Colliding Worlds

The last thing he really wanted was for the woman to be finding some place to hide in the ship. Illya followed the little woman through the corridors of the ship till they reached a small space that appeared to be her hut/room. Obviously there was supposed to be something in this space that she was looking for since all he could see currently was her feet sticking out from underneath her bed. Silently standing by he waited for some kind of information on what this was all about.

Instead of finding something useful the woman had started to pull out clothing. Of all things she had to ask him to turn away and he opened his mouth in protest and then closed it again. With a groan he turned his back to her. "Nah trouble ear meh?" Just because he couldn't quite trust the woman he would glance over his shoulder from time to time. Whatever this lady thought she would do he wasn't about to let her play a fast trick and fly off or something when he wasn't ready. There was potential for her to find another weapon and he didn't want that either.

Illya found his little woman to be highly abrasive. Her over enunciation of words and her exceedingly proud strut was enough to make him want to kill her. The only problem with killing the woman already was simply that he didn't know how to fix the machine or how to operate it with efficiency when it was finally repaired. Wandering behind her with a mostly helpless stance he just stared at the various objects that she pointed to. He understood they needed fixing, but again they were mostly words that he had no been familiar with in his use of the trader's language. There were only so many things that they could talk to others about in the common tongue and at times it was difficult to talk about anything besides trade. This was not trade and it was strictly based off of the ship and whatever it contained inside. The man had been in many ships, but he had not ever talked with anyone extensively on them or their operation.

Until now anyone that had dealt with his people had always ensured that they did not receive any training or technology that would allow for them to fly. Some rumored it was because the traders liked to keep them here to charge higher prices or that the traders were afraid that the Chippeqouti people would turn into pirates of sorts in the galaxy if they were given the chance to buy goods that would enable them to fly. It wasn't right that they were refused certain items and the traders that came here never brought anything that might enable them to do more than rove the land.

While the woman was occupied with her list he leaned against a wall and stared at the door that needed to have the seal repaired. That was one of the few things that made sense and he wasn't sure where he would get the material to replace the torn seal or if there was a special tool to repair it. Then she caught his attention with her announcement of needing the tools.

Letting out a long breath he nodded. "I ave tools. Yah use tose enstead?" Didn't seem that they would work since she needed hers because they were of a specialty. "Ugh!" Growling loudly he turned and started to march for the doorway. Peering over his shoulder at her he cursed under his breath and then felt the harsh reminder that the doorways on her ship were far shorter than those on the stone huts. Illya found himself staring at the ceiling and then her face as she looked down at him from above. "I get yah tools. We leave before tomorrow."

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Most of the afternoon had been spent with Illya helping the woman prepare the ship for repairs and now he sat up in his hut waiting for darkness to fall. In one hand he held a flashlight. It was a small one, and he hoped that she would be fast repairing the damage. Setting the flashlight aside he watched the snake as it began to slither past his doorway. Drawing the blade from his belt he darted outside suddenly and returned with a headless body of the animal. "Yah cook et." Tossing the carcass to the woman he nodded to her. "Den yah sleep."

Somehow it wasn't all that surprising to find out that she didn't know how to cook a decent snake dinner. Having a woman that obviously didn't know how to do anything, but fly was irritating. Angrily he chopped at the snake's body and threw it into a pan filled with bits of herbs and then shoved it over a small fire. "Nah yah cook da rest eh?"

Later that night Illya woke her. "Time." The two of them stole out of the hut and into the shadows. Illya held onto his flashlight and he whispered to her. "I find tools. Yah catch them an run." Sneaking into a nearby house he carefully turned the flashlight onto a low beam and began to rummage through the belongings and anything that looked like it was from her ship. Stealing from his own clan was going to be bad business and he needed them to be gone by morning. At the fourth hut he found something that looked like a tool and threw it out the window to her. There was no puff of sand, but he did hear a small clunk. Blinking a few times he wandered over to the window and shone the flashlight on her to reveal that she was holding her head. Was her night vision that bad?

Finally he found what appeared to be the toolbox and tiptoed out of the house. Carefully he handed it to her and walked with her to the ship. Shining the light on the toolbox looked at her. "Et all dere?"
 
There was as hard clang as Illya marched away from her and promptly hit his head on the metal door frame. She stared down at him and a crooked smile curled to her lips. "I think you made a dent in the door way with that hard head of yours. I can fix that too when we get my tools," she chuckled, as she offered him a hand up.

"I get yah tools. We leave before tomorrow."

He batted her hand away, his jaw working in embarrassment before he sat up and climbed to his feet.

***
The repairs wouldn't take long once they recovered the tool kit, but many system checks needed to be done in the mean time. The afternoon passed in relative silence considering that he did not speak the traders-language nearly as well as she did. Simple instructions in the tongue yielded varied results. After the second time he shocked himself trying to find the wire she needed from the ceiling panel, she decided he was best left to stand there and watch.
"The blue wire...not the...never mind."
He may have wanted to fly but he knew nothing about the craft he had "claimed." A good pilot always started out with knowing the inner working of their ship and he had a long way to go. It was obvious he was equally frustrated with her, especially when he killed a snake and tossed it at her like she knew what to do with it. Once he started cutting up the serpent's body with angry chops, she wondered if he would turn on her with the same blade. She was still very much aware the only thing keeping her alive was the fact she could repair and fly the Gylcryn.
They ate the meal in silence as day began to fade away. She was hungry, but found it hard to eat the meal, nibbling at it rather than eating whole-heartedly as Illya did. She was surprised to find that the man was a decent cook and the snake, for what she ate of it, tasted good.

Exhaustion had settled in, mostly because she was still feeling the results of blood loss, and it was hard for her to wake on command. The knowledge she would be leaving soon was the only thing that made her follow Illya out of the hut. The air was crisp in the desert night and she was thankful for the cargo jacket this time. Their own little raid had gone well, save for the fact that he was tossing some of her more delicate tools out of windows and had sent a larger wrench flying at her.

When they made it to the ship, he asked if her tools were all there. Her eyes roamed over the box with the tools and instruments. "It's enough. Let's get to work."

She started on the navigation panel, using the smaller tools and her tablet to transfer the displays to the camera screen instead. Illya started trying to work on the hatch, but judging by the occasional muttering, the task was not going well. The repairs went slowly and as the sun rose she could tell the man was growing restless, running his hand through his mess of dark curls. She knew once they were in the air, all bets were off. He would probably try to kill her once he thought he knew the ship well enough to make it fly.

The proximity warnings began to blare as someone...no several someones... were approaching the craft with weapons. "Shit."

Illya had gone to the exterior to check on the weapon system jam and would soon be met by what she guessed were angry villagers. They had come to collect more than just her stuff back. Weapons would have to wait.
 
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This ship was far more complicated than he had thought. Anything that he had made and put together wasn't quite this elaborate. Then again nothing he ever made had managed to fly. The worst that had happened was dropping a good 30-40 feet and one or two broken bones. That was a one time mistake which had cured him of experimenting with creating his own craft for flight. As much as he didn't really want to keep the woman she was going to be necessary for a very long time. If she behaved she might be worth keeping around and in the meantime he would just have to be a good student and learn as much as he could from her.

Desperation had begun to hit near dawn. Fixing the hatch had been a miserable task. That ridiculous little rubber stripping would no sooner be pressed into place on one side and then it would pop out on the other. Then he discovered that he should have put the hatch door back into its original shape before putting the stripping into place. Despite the fact that there were still several hours left she had a lot of work for the two of them to get done. Illya had to learn how to start the engines and she showed him several times. He did give her one annoyed expression when she told him to stay away from the gears. It was rather obvious that they were deadly should a person desire to shove their head in the way or any appendage belonging to the body.

There was something about not being able to manage the engine room and flight all at the same time during take off. Somehow the electric starter had been disabled or damaged beyond repair. So it was going to be up to Illya to get the machine started when the time came. Glancing out the window of the ship he ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

She had no idea what getting these tools had cost him. "We fly now?" The shake of her head made him almost cringe. "I do someting." Pacing the small space made available he looked at her expectantly. "Woman tell meh." There had to be something and she knew what there was left to do. Anything and he would willingly do it. Illya wanted to get out of this place and he wanted to see more, learn more, and return to this system to make trades that no one else would. He didn't care what the rules of trade were that the merchants had all chosen to live by or had been dictated to them. It was going to be his goal to make the money that he could selling what the people actually wanted.

It sounded like the only thing left was for her to get a few last minute things done and him to check the external weapons system. Illya stepped out the hatch door and he left it open to be sure that even if she lied to him about the engine room that there would be no way to maintain cabin pressure. There were a few things that he had heard of through listening to the merchants that had visited. Most of the details seemed not quite as significant as they thought, but he remembered anything and everything that he had heard about flight.

A little bit of sand started to blow in his direction and he knew that meant there was someone on the move. Early in the morning unless there was a serious wind the sand didn't lift off the ground quite as easily. Cool of the night settled it after the baking all day especially if the day hadn't been particularly windy and today wasn't windy enough to stir the ground yet. Looking up from his work he saw the various clansmen coming toward him and they were running. There wasn't any time left for the weapons test and he could be glad that they weren't in working condition. More than likely the woman would have thought nothing of shooting them all down. "Woman, we fly now!" Swinging into the ship he pulled the hatch door tightly behind himself and raced for the engine room. They needed to be ready to take off.

With a loud groan the lever pulled down and Illya pushed the start button. A groan sounded as the engines struggled to start. Dirt began to pick up and fly in the air. It probably had her machine almost plugged. There was a lot of problems with the dirt getting everywhere. All they needed was to get off this planet and then he could clean the dirt out or whatever it needed. Leaning his head on one of the wall panels the man muttered to the machine, begging it to start.

After some time of sitting in the engine room he decided that it was strangely quiet outside and he should inspect the ship. Just to be sure that he wasn't believing himself to be safe when he wasn't. Then there was still that woman around here somewhere. She was busy steering so he wouldn't have to worry about her. Illya slid the engine room door open and poked his head out before gingerly slipping out of the room the rest of the way and sliding the door closed behind himself. One hand resting on the hilt of his sword and silently moving through the corridors he finally came to a small room with a window. Everything looked a bit darker than it should. Not at all like the time of day it was.

Edging closer to the window he plastered his face to it and peered out. Below he could see his planet though it was hardly more than a swirling red mass of dust. For a quick instant his heart almost leapt into the back of his throat. It was all so far away. Illya watched the planet as if mesmerized by it. Then he heard the unexpected movement behind himself. Instantly his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword and he whipped around.
 
The comm-link to the engine had started to malfunction and she hadn't been sure where Illya had wandered off to. She used her thumb print to authorize an auto-pilot sequence and made her way down the corridor to investigate. He could easily be in hiding, ready to jump her, now that they were out of orbit, but she highly doubted he would make such a stupid move. That would be condemning himself to a death in space, or worse depending on who found him adrift. The thought of coming across another Mryasx fleet gave her chills. It had not been too long ago that she had been on a scouting mission and run upon by several of the much large Mryasx home-world vessels. These ships were the size of small moons in some cases and carried enough fire power destroy her Gylcryn fifty times over. They dealt heavily in slave trading. To be caught by them was a sentence to be sent into the trade.
She passed by an open door and her eye caught a large shadow standing at the window over looking the shrinking red planet. His eyes were transfixed on his home-planet with an unreadable expression on his face. When she leaned against the door way, he heard her move, and whipped around, his hand already on his sword hilt.

She held up her palms to him quickly, letting him see they were empty. "Easy, I just came to check on you." Seeing his expression still tense, she nodded to the window. "You've never seen your planet from this view, huh? It's pretty. Even if it is hot as hell. What do you think?"

The woman had come in search of him and he didn't like it. Illya clenched his jaw and he narrowed his green eyes slightly. They were sharp and he searched her face. What was it she wanted? Was it so obvious that he'd never seen his planet like this before. All of this was suddenly starting to make him nervous. How would he know where his home was when he wanted to come back with books and ships? When it was time to trade would he be able to find it again.

Numbers he was good at. Reading was a little more difficult. She wanted to know what he thought and he didn't really want to say anything to her. Easing his grip on the hilt of the sword he glanced about the room. "Yah ave noting yah need ta know about meh."

Pointing to a chair he nodded to her and then took a seat opposite her. "I learn now." He wanted her to start showing him how all of this worked. To teach him how to fly. If she refused he planned to follow her so that he could learn what to ask.

She frowned at him and stayed where she stood. His demanding tone was the same, but his eyes told a different story. He was nervous, and it wasn't just her presence that was making that happen. There was no way that she was simply going to teach him to fly and let him zip away with her ship. A question plagued her that, until now she had been no chance to ask.

"Before I teach you anything," she said evenly, "I want to know why it is you want to learn."

Illya's brow pulled into a scowl. She was highly inquisitive and there was only so much he could say about this with the words he knew in her language. "I want ta trade. Not jes wit tose merchants like. I sell what da people want eh?" There was a lot more to it than that and he couldn't get it out. "Dere in't enough words for meh." Grumbling in his own tongue and looking at her Illya almost willed her to understand what he was saying to her. Still there wasn't any kind of recognition in her eyes when he spoke.

"Ah need ta learn." Growling a little he started off again and the words slowly got slurred until they were just a mangled mess of the trader's tongue and his own. "Yah teach an ah learn." The accent had grown a little thicker even though he had done his best to try and slow down enough to speak clearly.

She listened, trying to understand him through his suddenly thickened accent. He was making himself sound more ignorant that he was, probably to hide his true intentions. No, his eyes said that his was the truth, at least in part. Her grey eyes scanned him over with a searching sort of look before she sighed.

"Fine, we can discuss the details on the way-"

A loud tone interrupted her sentence. The blaring intruder alarm was going off and echoing down the hall. "What in the Wilds?"

Her eyes turned from searching to suspicious at him, before heading out of the door in search of the source. The sound was coming from the small cargo area beneath the living quarters. Jogging down he corridor she made a right turn, slamming into something with enough force to knock her back onto her butt. The wound in her side pulled open a bit more from the jarring hit. When she looked up, there was a tall man, one from Illya's world, glaring down at her and growling.
 
Illya jolted a little when the alarm went off. He maybe didn't know anything about ships, but this was not a good sound. The man got up and remembered to duck this time when he raced out the door after her. Even if she didn't want to teach he was going to learn all that he could from watching. Instead of being afforded a learning experience he raced into the room to discover that there was another Chippeqouti. "You!" Starting out in their language the Chippeqouti knew that the woman wouldn't understand them. It was best to keep it that way. "You steal from your own so that you can fly. Then what? Mmm Illya."

"No...I-I steal because we needed th-"

"We?" The man's face showed clear outrage as he interrupted. "Kill her and be done with it. Bring this back and we will all learn from it. Then we can fly and we can take what we need." Staring intently at Illya he glanced at the woman and then back to the other Chippeqouti again. "If you bring this back there will be forgiveness."

Staring at the other he shook his head. "There is too much to learn. She must teach me first. We cannot learn from only the machine." In the past they had tried with other ships and always assumed that there was something wrong or that they could not learn because of flaws caused by the crash. Reverse engineering a ship that they had no reference or training on had proven to be highly difficult and many ships had programs that would self destruct. Then they learned nothing for decades. "Le...Ugh!" A grunt sounded from Illya as the man lunged forward and the two of them crashed into a wall. Illya reached for his dagger. At this distance they were far too close for him to draw the sword. "I learn from her then I'll come back." Straining against the other man he pushed at him. "Let me learn."

The other man shook his head and he drew out his own dagger. "I'll do what I have to Illya. Hate to kill you, but you haven't left me much choice. We know it works now and we will teach ourselves after I kill you and her. It will go back now."

Illya ducked and threw himself at his opponent. They weren't far off from the engine room and he figured that was a goo place to dispose of a body. Well if they opened the bottom hatch. However, the issue was getting in there without being the body floating away. Angling for a sharp undercut he hit the other man square on the tip of his jaw. The enemy swung his dagger and caught Illya across his ribs. It was only a flesh wound thankfully. Illya grabbed for the dagger hand and he pulled it to the side while he shoved his own dagger deep into the other man's shoulder.

Crying out the man pulled away and grinned. He had both the daggers now and they were both too close for anyone to draw their swords. Pulling the other dagger out of his shoulder he lunged forward as Illya shrunk back through the doorway. Momentarily the man forgot about the woman as he was pursuing Illya.

Both of the men reached the hallway which proved to be a tight space. One that was treacherous since there was very little space in which to move. Inching away from his opponent Illya created a little more distance and then dove for the other man's feet. Both of them tumbled to the ground, but Illya popped up on the other side of the hall and he threw the door open to the engine room and ran inside. Hiding behind a larger gear he took a deep breath and waited for the man to come in.

The fight had left them both breathing a little harder and Illya strained to hear anything different though it was impossible in this room. Suddenly a glint shown and he twisted out of the way of the dagger. Grabbing the other man's arm he shoved it into the gear. It would be enough to break it which was uncommon and far more painful for a Chippeqouti than others. While the man screamed he watched the daggers drop from both his hands and then Illya reached up with one large hand and he squeezed the man's neck till the skin broke and still squeezed harder before he had a hold of the vital organs in the neck. Pulling back quickly and harshly he watched the body slump and then pulled on the body as the arm was crushed by the gears. Soon as the body was loose of the gear he drug it to the hatch and then started out into the hallway with blood dripping from his hands. Sealing the door behind himself he glanced at the woman. "He's dead. Ehm...put da body out?" Motioning a little with his hands he finally sighed. Maybe she knew what he meant and maybe not.
 
Illya emerged from engine room covered in crimson blood, having fought off one of his own people. His hands were dripping with the remains of his opponents throat as she motioned to her and said something she could barely hear through her heart beat thumping in her ears.
She had seen death before, even violent ones, but never had she seen such power from a humanoid before. What was he?

"He's dead. Ehm...put da body out?"

She didn't remember standing up and did not feel her boots on the metal floor as she stared at him silently, her grey eyes wide in shock. Blinking at him a few times, she walked past him, giving him as wide a berth as the hallway would allow and hit the vent button for the hatch. A warning bell triggered and the rushing sound of air esccaping broke the silence between them. The body made few heavy thuds against the walls as it was lifted up and sucked out into open space.
With that she went wordlessly to her quarters and retrieved the medical kit from her bed along with her old jump suit. She ripped the jumpsuit into a usable rag, since all of her linens had been stolen, and returned to Illya.
Her hands were shaking as she handed him the items, hoping he knew what to do with them. She doubted her voice would work if he asked her to explain.
Returning to the cockpit, she eased into her pilot's chair with a wince. Looking down she saw her own blood seeping through her shirt again, having bled through the tight bandages. Her mind was too preoccupied to care.

What was he? Why did he want to learn so badly? She couldn't fault him for wanting to learn new things, but there were better ways than taking someone hostage. Would he rip her throat out too when he got what he wanted? Probably.

There was also the matter of her attacker, who was still at large. They had no weapons available on the Gylcryn now, inside or out.

They also had no rations, no water, and a buggy navigational system that would not connect to any networks.

When she added all of these issues together the idea made panic rise in her throat.

She shook her head, dispelling the thoughts. They were unproductive. The situation was, what is was and all she could do was make level headed decisions from here on out.

First she had to figure out how to deal with Illya. She had nothing strong enough on the ship to kill him except for maybe the item in her go bag. Even still, she was reluctant to use it. Plus, as much as it irked her to say it, she was curious about him, even if she was reasonbly terrified of what he could do. No, the man had mentioned trading as his desire and every move he had made to this point had been a barter. Her life for learning to fly. Her hair....
She touched the frayed ends of her hair, still fighting down the anger over that stunt.
He understood the world as "this-for-that" and she could make full use of it.

The next issue was finding out where they were. There was normal radio traffic, but none from the Kaerealean Federation or its affiliates. Her navigation system was not able to download new maps, not until it was repaired. So, she had no idea where they were to plot any kind of course or find the closest repair station. There would be no Kaereleans this far, that was certain, but her ID chip could help with that. She could purchase parts and rations with her own funds and be reimbursed later when she could make contact with her superiors.

As for her attacker a report could be written, but there was nothing they could do if they ship reappeared other than run. For now.

Pulling out an battered notebook of grid paper from her console, and a dull pencil, she began calculations on their locations by hand, using her times from her last jump to estimate. As she worked, a shadow appeared blocking her light. She glanced up to see Illya standing over her from behind, his green eyes scanning the page. Swallowing her fear, she met his eyes for a moment and went back to her work in silence.
 
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The woman's eyes were ridiculously large and he stared at her when he walked past. Why was she staring at him? Hadn't she seen anyone die before? Till now he was sure that everyone had witnessed at least one violent death and this one was a little grisly, but she was adult enough to handle it. For the time it seemed that she was trying to avoid him and that hardly made sense. Illya had just saved her from the intruder and he did whatever was necessary for that. She was going to teach him how to fly. Why wouldn't he guard her?

Glancing at his bloodied hands he looked around for someplace to clean his hands off. Rubbing them on the walls wasn't really any good and neither was it a practice he figured he wanted to have started here. At first he hoped that she would show him where she had a well or some kind of bucket with water so he could somehow get himself washed up. Instead she stopped at her room again and he frowned a little when she started to thrust things toward him. Illya knew very well that she was trying to hand him bandaging, but he was still covered in blood and he hadn't a chance to wash it off so he could have clean bandages. "Wash first." Some words came out far more clear than others and those two were a bit easier.

There was a little place to wash it seemed just around the corner in the hallway. Following her pointed finger he stepped into a very tiny wash room. Back home they had washrooms, but not in their houses. Washrooms were pretty much a large community building with buckets. In a desert water was a commodity not to be wasted. Being on a ship he assumed it was the same practice. Only 3 gallons of water were allowed per person every day. 1 to wash, 1 to rinse the body after washing and 1 to drink. It didn't seem to matter where he looked in her wash room, there were no buckets! With some disgust he finally noticed her waste bin and he pulled the liner out of it. How could she be so unprepared? Illya sighed and ran a little water into the bucket. Wandering back into her room he took one of the rags and he tore the edge of it to make a washcloth. Dipping the edge of the cloth into the bucket he used it to wash all the excess blood off himself and then he stripped his clothes off and stood in the little stall to fill the bucket half way again so he could wash the rest of himself without smearing blood everywhere.

Each time he shifted or moved Illya would smash his elbow into the wall or hit his head on the second spigot that stuck out of the wall. Why you would be so wasteful to need two spigot's he didn't know. Maybe water was more plentiful where she was from, but this ship couldn't have a giant well in it so Illya tried to be extra careful with the water. Instead he rationed himself to only 1.5 gallons for the day and tomorrow he would not wash and only drink half a gallon.

Looking around for some soap he spotted a little bottle and he grabbed it. Opening the top of it he sniffed and then frowned. No wonder everyone left this bottle, it smelled terrible. There were little ocean waves on the front of it and trees. If that was how the place smelled that it was from she must have bought the cheapest soap. Bending over to pour some soap into the bucket he hit his rear end on the back of the shower so he carefully tried to move a bit closer to the bucket only to hit his head on the other end. Cursing loudly he finally decided to squat in front of the little garbage bucket. Before pouring the soap he slammed his elbow into the side of the wash stall again. This entire wash room was poorly designed.

When he finished washing Illya stepped out of the wash stall and slipped back into his pants. The shirt would maybe get washed tomorrow. His pants were the cleanest part of his clothing. Little wet spots formed all over his pants because there was nothing with which to dry off with. Already his side was dripping blood again and he stopped it with the clean cloth.

Staring at the other bottles she handed to him the man frowned. Illya sniffed each one and not a single bottle smelled like something useful. As for reading what they said that would be pointless. He could barely read his own language let alone a foreign one. Wrapping the bandage tightly around his side he winced a little. The cut from the dagger hurt, but it wasn't impossible to manage. For the time he left his shirt lay in the corner of the washroom. There didn't seem to be anywhere else to put it. Sliding on his socks and boots again he wandered out to find the woman.

Stepping into the room he glanced over her shoulder and smiled. No matter that it was friendly gesture. She was still trying not to look at him. "Woman." Pushing her away from the paper he shook his head. "Nah, we here." Setting his finger down on the sheet he stared at her. "I know numbers." He had been able to make out her calculations and despite not being able to fly the clans all knew how to chart their solar system. Illya had spent a great deal of his time learning and teaching himself all that he could from the various navigation books that he found in the other wrecked ships from his planet. Staring into her eyes he tried to get her to follow his gaze back to her little chart. "Look." This time he spoke as slowly and as clearly as he could to be sure she wouldn't misunderstand him. "If-we-travel-dis speed." Pointing to her speed calculated on the paper he nodded. "We-travel-dis-direction-then-we-here." Pointing to another spot on her chart he nodded to add some emphasis. "Yah understand?"
 
He addressed her 'pointing out that her calculations were mathematically correct, but had been based on incorrect information of her jump exit point. A estimate that made plotting a course difficult. Her eyes flicked from his bright green ones to the page, and then back to his. She had known there was intelligence hidden in them, but his gift for number and math was surprising.
"Yes, so it would seem," she said, quietly her head tiling to the side, "You know numbers and charts well."

She followed his guiding hand as he helped in adjusting their course. She discovered while she was in an system that was uncharted by the Kaereleans, it was near a system that looked familiar to her. If the course he helped her create was correct, and she believed it was since his math was flawless, they would find a supply port on the largest planet's moon. That port would be a rough pit-stop, full of thieves, gangs, slave-traders and the deeper vices that plagued that quadrant, but would have the parts they needed and supplies as well. Illya's stature may come in handy there.

Point to the point on a star chart, displayed on her fragmented navigational display, she pointed to the moon orbiting a purple hued gas giant. "Hinaiah supply port, is here. This is where we can fix the ship. I will set our course here."

He didn't seem to disagree, but his trader-talk was limited. She was sure, that "fix' and "ship" were understood and that would probably be satisfactory for the time being.
"I will teach you to fly, but trade is more than just knowing your ship," she said, "Learning trade-talk would make you a master tradesman. I could teach it to you as well, for a an exchange, that is."

Illya looked at her with a slightly annoyed but expectant face and a smile curled to her lips. "My name is Calysta. You must call me by my name."
 
Since the woman seemed open to his help Illya knelt next to her and began to write down his formula which was the same as hers only he incorporated a different set of numbers providing for a slightly greater distance. While he drew out a new course and took the straight edge of a chunk of metal sitting on the desk he drew the lines that were usually seen in the navigation books. Though he'd never been able to read all the other words in the books there were plenty of charts and tables with pictures on them to explain the math. Enough to have learned the material.

Once she had corrected course the woman started to point out other things. One of them was a planet and he watched intently. She was teaching now and it was his place to learn. Quietly he listened to her. Illya took special care to remember this place. All of space was so new that he was a little concerned he may not have the ability to remember it all. So many things and it was difficult to tell one star apart from another. Each moon was very similar and they were all massive compared to the ship. How did they learn to measure the moons and planets? Now he was finding himself more curious about the measurements and momentarily he had lost his focus on what she was saying. A slightly quizzical expression came to his face. He hoped it would be enough for her to explain what more they had to get more stuff for the ship and attempt to make further repair. If it was flying it should have been good enough.

Everything came to a abrupt halt in his mind. Illya flashed her a quick look. She wanted to trade him something for teaching him to speak better. No matter what she thought she couldn't make him a master tradesman and he wondered if she was going to try and trade for her freedom. Instead she simply asked for him to call her by name. "Yah dun wan a new name? I give yah one eh?"

She raised a brow at him, her grey eyes flashing up at him. He had probably expected a different sort of bargain, but right now she was stuck with him either way and she wanted the satisfaction. "I'd rather hear my real name," she replied, " Do we have a deal or no?"

As badly as he wanted to be uncooperative with the woman he knew he needed some help with the language. Illya tilted his head to the side just before a mischievous grin plastered itself to his face. "Yah Kalizda woman." Saying her name at his regular pace had slurred it slightly, but it was close enough. She had a little spunk and he could admire that even if she was a bit of a dud and couldn't cook.

Calysta watched him struggle on an answer and when he grinned, saying her name, albeit provincially, she chuckled. Perhaps he was not so ill-mannered as she thought. Maybe. "We'll work on it, but close enough for now." She set the course for the supply port and then glanced back to him. "Hungry?"

It was somewhat fun to call her Kalizda. Mostly because it sounded close to a word that summarized meant little bird in his language. Best of all she hadn't thrown a fit. Illya felt successful in renaming her. When she offered food he took a breath and then nodded. Perhaps she was better equipped cooking a meal that she was familiar with. Following her to a small galley kitchen he waited for her to start preparing food and to his horror it wasn't even fresh. Instead it was something that she simply threw into a small oven for a short time and then plopped on the table.

Illya had never seen rations in his life. Staring at the steaming platter of foreign foods he cautiously leaned over it and breathed in to see if it even smelled good. There wasn't a single familiar looking dish. "Yah dun cook. Dis..." gesturing to the plate he spluttered a little trying to find the words. "Dis is. Agh...I try et." For the time he figured it wasn't fair to scold her for her lack of ability. In time if she didn't improve he would have to get a new slave to teach her to cook properly, or perhaps just capture someone else to cook. The man carefully lifted the first limp green chunk of food and pushed it into his mouth. Chewing it slowly he kept a blank expression. When he finished he pushed his platter toward her. "Et was gud." Illya had to admit even if it was reluctantly that the food was satisfying regardless of the fact that it was something he'd never seen in his life.

***********************************************************

The idea of being at a new port was exciting and perhaps a little terrifying all in one. Illya didn't know if the council held the same as they had some time ago. There weren't many that visited his planet and that could be the only saving grace. However, his shirt was in ill repair and still covered in blood. He didn't have any other clothing to wear. Carrying extra clothes had not been necessary when they left. Besides one could always wash the clothing at night and wear it the next day. The clothing wasn't supposed to get ruined in a fight.

When they flew away in the ship Illya had hoped to get further away than this. However, if he was going to be smuggling goods he was going to have to learn to be out in the open. It was still uncertain if she knew about his kind or even what species he belonged to. Illya didn't know about her, but he wasn't too concerned about that just yet. All that would come in time. Asking certain questions could get him in trouble before he even got a start at this. Instead he decided that his bloody shirt could come in handy after all. People would be too busy looking at his shirt and they may not notice other things that he was doing. Little things like this were sometimes enough to make a good thieving all under a person's nose.

Illya returned to the washroom and discovered his shirt was gone. "Nah...I lef et ere." Digging around in the washroom he kicked the stool by accident and elbowed the wash stall side and then caught his lower back on the towel bar. Green eyes flashing he stalked out of the washroom. "Yah moved et! Can't find meh shet." Whatever he said must have come out wrong because she was grinning at him and he didn't appreciate it in the least.

"We need ta go and I can't find et." Instead she tossed a shirt to him that was new and he started to pull it on. By the time it finally slipped over his head he realized it was far too small and even the slightest wrinkle from his bandaging showed through it. It felt like he had to hold his arms out just to prevent the shoulders from tearing off if he should move his arms much.
 
He found her with small razor in one small hand and a lock of her choppy black hair in the other. She had evened out the ends of it resulting in a short cut in the back and her remaining longer locks in the front, framing her pale face. Calysta ignored his yelling and finished her hair before tossing the new shirt at him. He caught it and looked down at the material with a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face. She couldn't have him running around half naked on the ship and his other shirt needed to be cleaned at the very least. There wasn't enough water to devote to laundry, so her solution was to raid Wynt's go- bag for clothes.

Illya pulled on her co-pilot's shirt and she could hear the stitching pop here and there, trying to contain his broad shoulders and thick waist.
Her grey eyes scanned him over with a mirthful spark. The fit was as she thought it would be. He stood there his arms held stiff and she chuckled. "We can find you something else in the port or get your other shirt washed later," she said, stifling her amusement, "Just try not to breath too deep."

The Gylcryn's auto-pilot chirped at her from the cock-pit, signaling their arrive into the "no wake zone" surrounding the port. Her expression went from playful to business like in an instant as she scurried around him to the pilot's chair. Pulling the outer cameras up with a practiced hand, the display revealed their destination.

A grey mass of rock covered in lights of all colors sat in front of a massive gas giant of swirling purple and blue. The planet behind the port was so large it filled the entire screen as if the rest of space did not exist. Ships of all sorts were pulling into port, floating down to the surface of the moon with ease, while others were leaving orbit in flashes of white light emitting from their jump drives. It was almost like an insect hive with constant comings and goings.

Illya had made habit of following the woman as she taught him about the ship. Landing was certainly out of the routine as she adjusted camera's. There was so much. Blinking a few times he let out a long breath and rested his hands on the back of her seat. "Dis a large place?"

She heard him sigh and felt his heavy hand settle on to the back of her chair. Was that a sigh of nerves or excitement? Her instincts told her it was a mix of the two and she could hardly blame him. "Not the largest, but yes," she nodded, "Hinaiah is very crowded and very dangerous. It is not my first choice to land here."

Giving an uneasy chuckle he leaned to the side slightly. "Danger for who? Yah mebbe?" It seemed to be a safe way to inquire if she knew what he was or if there would be trouble for him here at the port or not.

She stole a glance at him and flashed him a side ways smile."For us both, but I think we'll be fine, as long as yeh stay very close." Her words were not a mocking, merely playful this time, hoping to break the nerves.

"Close ta Kalizda woman?" With a huff he said the words though he was amused by her. "Dere is naughting yah could do. Little bird."

Calysta gained permission to dock at a free port and began the sequence, guiding them down to the surface manually. Her hand was steady and natural at the joy stick as she began their descent. The ship jostled as they landed on a narrow paddock she opened the side hatch and extended the metal plated ramp. With the security settings linked to her voice commands, she tossed on her cargo jacket and exited the ship with Illya close behind.

A short walk from the landing strip put them into the middle of an crowded street. Stalls lined ever space between brick and mortar shops. Where there wasn't shop space there were people clogging the path. Some were humanoids, but others were life forms he would never have imagined. Some had scales, or bright slick flesh, others towered over the street and everything else in it. Goods of all kinds were piled outside doors, and on stall tables. A blue- scaled Orillion spied Illya's blade and held up his own wares, which included a fine sword with a sharp tip. "Bestests bladeds in the the porttt," it said in stuttering trade-talk.

Illya paused, having been addressed, only to find he was stalling the flow of the street and a larger beast was side stepping him. A large leathery creature bumped him, as it passed with no regard at all. When Calysta looked back she found him glaring at the larger creature. If he took a swing at the wrong person, he would get them both killed. Dying in a the streets of this slum was not what she had in mind. Doubling back, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the away. "You do not want to piss that one off, trust me," she said over the din of the crowd, "We're almost there."

She stepped into a side street that was far less crowded, and into a dirty shop filled with parts, most of which had seen better days. A humanoid with a potbelly and mottled nose welcomed her in trade-speak. The two spoke quickly, too quickly for Illya to follow. The traders eyes looked him over briefly and then he asked her something in a different language. Calysta gave the man a hard look. Why would he even ask her such a thing? As if she would ever sell someone into the slave trade or the fight pits, even if he was a pain the majority of the time.

"Absolutely not," she snapped back, "Do we have a deal or no?"

"No offense Miss! Aye we have us a deal. Payment on delivery."

Calysta turned away from the man with a furrowed brow and looked to Illya. "Parts are arranged, lets get out of here."
 
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The two of them had barely stepped out of the ship and it felt very different here. Almost cold. Illya almost never wandered outside at night on his home planet. As with many of his kind he didn't like the cold. Perhaps the single most disturbing thing to the man was the sheer volume of people. He had never seen so many in one place at one time. A female with scales passed by and he recoiled slightly. She didn't look normal and if she had a disease he didn't want it.

Turning slightly to look at a merchant the Chippeqouti was finding himself curious. Apparently you couldn't just stop in the street and when he was bumped he glowered at the offender. Illya took a step toward the creature with his fist balled up. He was half tempted to just punch the ugly lout. Did it have to be so hard to just stop and look at a sword? If it was any good Illya wanted to have a look at it. Guns were nice, but only to a point. They weren't all that effective from his experience unless you made a gut shot and then it would work pretty well. Otherwise bullets would only maim a person and when Illya fought he wanted to make sure he came out on top and didn't just settle with maiming the opponent.

Before he had a chance to decide if he wanted to punch the rude leather skinned thing he felt the woman's hand slip into his and pull him toward a store. "Where?' Illya had forgot the entire reason for being here and he wasn't even sure what they were looking for. Irritably he pulled his hand away from hers and followed the rest of the way till they reached a small store.

There was nothing comforting about the way the deal went in the store. Illya couldn't help glancing at the store owner a few times. If she wasn't the only one to know what the ship needed he would have suggested dealing with someone else. Perhaps there wasn't anyone else or Kalizda didn't want to wander any deeper into the city. Turning on his heel Illya started out of the building after her. This time he knew that it was only etiquette to keep to yourself around here. Didn't seem to matter to anyone if you were jostled here and there. A human with slimy skin brushed against him and Illya tried to step to the side only to find himself bumping into a giant. The man had to be around 10 feet tall or more. Carefully he tried to sidestep again and ran into another creature. It wasn't long till Illya lost sight of the girl and he found himself lost in a maze of people.

One of the creatures turned toward him and shoved him roughly. "Move, you're blocking the way." Illya stumbled out of the way and he tried to press against a building and peer into the street for the girl. Then he spotted a few men in uniform working their way along the road. At first he didn't pay attention to them and then he noticed one of them point toward him. That was signal enough for Illya and he tried to slink away. Despite the fact that there were those taller than himself he was still taller than most and he had a problem disappearing.

Cursing under his breath the Chippeqouti decided to try and make his way to the ship. He was sure he could find the craft at the very least. Illya looked behind himself only to see a large leathery creature lunging for him. Ducking out of the way he dodged into an alleyway. Anywhere would be fine. They still must have had bans on Chippeqouti through the area.

The city guard sent their undercover Prantis toward the alley and they moved to the other side. Either way they intended to catch the man. An anonymous tip came from a disgruntled shop owner. It seemed that he had been offended by the presence of the Chippeqouti and he mentioned that the Chip had been threatening. Considering that no one had seen one in nearly 100 years it was surprising and disconcerting to see another. In the meantime there was another group dispatched to find the smuggler that had begun to help the Chippeqouti move. They were not to be given any way out of the exile and whoever the pilot was had directly defied the code.

When Illya saw the men closing in he decided to run for the other humanoids. Whatever this other thing was she had warned him not to fight it. Charging for the other three Illya turned sharply and instead broke a window. Pulling at the bars he tried to bend them and instead ripped out part of the wall. It provided enough space with which to crawl through. Inside he could see the warehouse was full of various goods. As far as he could tell it was a packing facility or shipping bay of some kind. Rummaging through one box he found a different shirt and ripped the one he had on off. Taking the black one out of the box Illya slipped it on and then took the vest in the box 3 down the row. There were guns on a separate conveyor belt.

Illya ducked and rolled under the stands he was at and popped back up near the weapons. A bullet whizzed past his head and he cringed. Snatching a gun Illya checked to be sure it was loaded and found it wasn't. There were clips a ways down the line and some bullets, but that would take too long. Instead he turned and threw the gun at one of the officers as hard as he could.

A rewarding thud followed and he burst through the front doors of the building. He was close to the ship. So close. Without bothering to use the trader's tongue he yelled at Calysta to go. They needed to start the engines and get off the planet before they locked the magnetic barrier on the port. Seeing a few boxes with supplies Illya grabbed one and threw it into the bay of the ship and stacked the other 3 together and pushed them up the ramp. Finally he managed to get one word out that was something she should recognize. "Go go!"

The ping of bullets sounded all around as the door to the bay closed. Illya started for the engine room to get them running so they could take off. If that part hadn't been fixed yet it could make things tight. Another bullet skimmed just inside as the door was about to latch. The ricochet sent it wildly into the room and it hit Illya near his temple. Falling limply to the floor in the docking bay the blood began to force its way past the bullet that had lodged itself in the side of his head and form a puddle on the floor.

There was a mix of banging and humming when Illya woke. He winced some and peeled his face off the bloody floor. Almost the entire left side of his face was sticky with the congealed blood and he lifted his hand up to feel where the bullet wound was. "Aaagh." Gingerly he picked at the wound till a flattened bullet came loose and tumbled down the front of the vest and shirt he was wearing. A tink sounded as it hit the floor and he growled. "Dey shot meh." If he knew any curse words in the common tongue he would have used them.
 
Illya had gotten lost in the crowded streets on their way to the next shop. The buzzing merchants corridor was so thick with people even his tall frame was swallowed up into the masses. Where had he slipped off to? If he became too lost, he would probably be picked up by snatchers, or run into the wrong person. What did that matter to her? She had been trying to be rid of him since he boarded her ship, and this seemed like a convenient end to an unfortunate encounter. An easy escape.
Calysta paused in the alley way before her feet began taking her back to the Gylcryn.

Then she stopped again, her mind filled with questions. His species was different from other humanoids she had encountered. The bullet she put into his back and the fight with his own kind had proven as such, but what was he? Why was he so desperate to learn to fly? He had not proven to be a bad student. Quite the contrary. Though he had little respect for her, he was quick to learn and listened well. She had shown him the index of planets the Kaereleans had begun at the very beginning of their space exploration, and he had seemed interested, almost fascinated. The space port was obviously overwhelming to him. Perhaps it was because his people were so remote? Opening travel and more trade to that hellish world would be good for the people there. Maybe that's all he wanted.

With a sigh, she started her course back to where she had become lost. After a few minutes of dodging in an out of the crowd with no success of finding the broad shouldered man. She started toward the Gylcryn again. The most logical place for him to go would be the ship if he did lose Khalizda woman. If he couldn't make it back by the time repairs were finished, then she would leave.

****
When she returned to the Gylcryn she found the merchant's delivery at the dock with the parts she had ordered tucked into several cases and crates. The Ryln courier held out a digital note pad for her to pay by using her ID chip, but when she pressed her thumb to the pad, payment was declined.
"That can't be right, run my ID again-"

Her words were interrupted by Illya exploding into the dock with armed pursuers at his back. He yelled at her waving at her to run. She hesitated at first but as the bullets began to ting off the metal dock and her ship, she bolted toward the cockpit. Illya tossed the un-paid for crates on the ship as the courier ran away.
"What did you do?!' she yelled as she slammed into the pilot's chair. There was no reply besides gun fire and some yelling. " Chip-!"
She tore away from the dock as the hatch closed and blew past the ships around them. Two smaller ships followed her and began hailing her through the radio in multiple languages. "Halt and submit to boarding."

Whoever they were, she had no intention of letting anyone else aboard the Gylcryn. With a quick key stroke, she cut off the radio and hit the throttle, opening it up to full speed halfway through the atmosphere. The ship shuddered, resisting and then shot off into open space with the two cruisers close behind. Another few keystrokes with her opposite hand, she plotted a course.

"Not so close, guys," she hissed. Then she hit the jump-drive, praying it would work. With another shudder, the drive whined and the lights flickered. Please work. A hard jolt sent her into the back of her seat as the drive engaged and she left the cruisers behind in her wake.

****
Calysta put them safe in an orbit under the glittering rings of a planet across the quadrant. Their pursuers would still be looking for them, but why? That answer was with Illya, who she had not seen yet. She jogged down to the engine room to find him on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Kneeling beside him, she checked for his breath by putting her hand on his chest. He was breathing light but steady breaths and he was warm.
He had survived a bullet to the back...but a bullet to the head? No humanoid she had ever seen had survived such a wound. The question came again: What was he? She would ask him when he woke up, if he woke up. He would be too heavy to move alone but she would be able to clean him up some.
As she rose to her feet there was a distinct whine and the lights flickered again, then cut off.
"Damnit! Come on!"

******
When Illya began peeling his face from the floor, Calysta kept her hands working on the the engine electrical panel but looked down at him, nearly blinding him with the small flash light clamped between her teeth. The room was dark save for a few emergency lights running the bottom of the wall and her light.

"'Bout 'ime oo' woke ub," she said, "Wasbt u're oo'd 'live."
Closing the panel, and removed the flash light form her mouth, looking into his eyes. "I don't suppose you'd like some bandage for that? Or will you simply heal as easily as you take a bullet to your head?"

The sudden light in his eyes made the man groan.He had a headache after that. Holding a hand up he tried to shield his eyes from the flashlight. "Ugh...Jes some pad for et." A square of dressing would be all he'd need for a day or so. Shakily he reached out for some of the railing in an attempt to get off the floor.

Flicking a switch, to the left there was buzzing sound and the lights came back full force. He could see her properly, a few scratches were on her face, but otherwise her grey eyes were calm and sharp. "So you do heal fast," she surmised, "Though you shouldn't be healing at all. You should be dead on that floor. i want to know.....what are you, Illya?"

Illya was still busy holding his head and staring at the little flattened bullet on the floor. The lights were almost worse than the flashlight. Did she have to turn them all on? "What da yah mean?" Illya had never seen a person die from a gunshot wound to the head. "I em Illya. Yah already know dis." There were times when he found some phrases confusing in the other language.

Not your name," she replied, remembering to speak a little slower, "Your species? Your race....your people...what are they? What are they called? One of the men chasing us called you a "Chip." What does that mean?"

After she explained what she meant it made more sense and he scowled. "Chippeqouti." He really hoped she didn't know what that meant and since she was asking it was a good time to find out. "Yah know what dey are? 'Ear of Chippeqouti before?"

She stared at him, even though he scowled down at her. "No, but I will make you an offer. You explain it to me, and I'll find you some 'herbs' for the headache you obviously have."

Illya started with a nod and then grunted instead. Wincing a little he rested one elbow on the railing and let his head rest on his arm. "Chippeqouti rule de system many years ago. Alliance formed an den dey rose up an exile meh kind. We are forbidden ta ave certain books an we cannaugh leave de planet." It was how he figured best to explain the history.

Calysta could see he was in pain, but she couldn't stop in her questioning. "That explains a few things....and what is the penalty for leaving the planet? Or helping someone leave?"

The question she asked was only reasonable though he figured she would likely want to get him off her ship now. "Eh...dey kill meh an probably yah to."

The answer wasn't unexpected, but she had hoped that his reply would not be execution. He had made her take him from the planet and now she was on the run with him...because of him....anger flared and her hands curled into fists as her jaw worked, fighting the urge to punch him. Still, underneath her anger, she knew what was done, was done. It wasn't as if she could go put him back where she found him,. "Well, lucky for you, the Kaerelean Federation doesn't practice the death penalty."

Deh who?" Illya raised his head an looked at her. "Dat where we go now?"

"That's where we're going now," she replied, turning to leave, "Not only am I aiding and abetting an escapee, but I'm also wanted for robbery too. My money has been cut off for some reason and my ID shut down. But hey, you learned to fly, right?"

Before he could reply the Gylcryn gave a violent lurch,sending them both tumbling to the floor, as the sound of ripping metal screeched from outside on the hull.
 
Pushing off the railing Illya was ready to protest her statement and then he was tossed to the side. Grasping for the rails the man barely caught himself and he heard a solid thud like a hollow rock hitting the ground. There wasn't time to complain about his head getting hit on the way down. "Yah tryin ta kill meh?" Illya looked over toward the sound of metal being ripped off. It didn't sound good and he assumed that it wasn't. "Go fly." She needed to get them out of here and fast. For the time he was going to check on the sound and maybe set up one of the guns in a turret.

Just as he arrived in the room with the supplies there was another crashing sound and Illya began cursing under his breath. Tearing into a box he pulled out a large gun. At this point the larger the better. Illya stalked his way to the first turret and mounted the gun then slid into his seat. A gun couldn't be that hard to figure out and he was determined to get out of here alive. Wherever she was from, that's where they were going and nobody would kill him regardless of the fact that he left home. In fact it might be nice, because if she had never heard of his race then chances were that her people hadn't heard of his race either. That would afford him far more opportunity than this place. Tightening the last screw on the mount he turned in the turret to see that they had a larger ship preparing to board his ship via portal.

"Eh!" Resting one hand on top of the gun and then resting his shoulder against the butt of the weapon he let out a long breath and then squeezed the trigger. The aim was always better if you shot while exhaling. A smile came to his face as he watched the portal begin to glitch. A few more sensors would collapse it and any men inside would have to return to the mother ship or they would die in just a few short bursts of fire from his gun. Using a gun was always useful in a war.

Taking another deep breath Illya waited for the portal to begin settling again and then he hit another critical sensor. It was only a few minutes more and the ship began to float more smoothly. He stayed with the gun and watched as the other ship fell behind them. Obviously there was something that they wanted on board or they could have blown them out of the sky. Illya wasn't sure what they wanted, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with his slave. Wandering back through the corridors of the ship he came to the place where Kalizda was at. "Dey could ave killed us boght. Yah ave someting dey want eh?" Leaning a bit closer to her his nose almost touched hers. "When yah crashed I claimed da ship an yah. Dah ship belongs to meh and yah belong to meh, I ave a right to know wha dey want."
 
Calysta's injured side collided with the electrical panel as she was thrown the floor.
"What now!" she yelled as she grabbed the railing. Scrambling to her feet, she ran to the cockpit and threw herself into the pilot seat once more, ignoring the fresh waves of pain in her side.
The outer cameras revealed a long tan and brown cruiser out-fitted with cannons on the wings and underbelly. Far out matching her Gylcryn and the same type of craft that attacked her mid-jump 3 days ago. Who were they and what the hell did they want?

There was no time to think about it. Whoever they were could have blown them away, but instead had aimed for a disabling shot off the bow. The same sort of shot as last time she ran into them. She cursed herself for not having been quicker in restoring power, life systems, and the engine. That issue had cost her time she could have used repairing the outer weapons. The only option was to run and the idea of it made her furious. As she hit the jump-drive, forcing it into another run, a shimmering light reflected off her console. A boarding portal.
The sound of a gunshots echoed through the ship. She had little worry for Illya being shot. After all, he would wake in a few hours and pull the bullet out as if it were a splinter. Still, those bullets could kill her and whoever was attempting to board would be well armed.
More gun fire pops were heard and until the shimmering light was gone. The portal had been disconnected either by distance or gunfire.

Eyeing the power outputs of the jump-drive, she found them safe enough and stood behind the captains chair, having put the Gylcryn on auto pilot. She wanted to know what that ship was, and why continued following her. What was-

Her thoughts were thrown when Illya appeared in her face, his green eyes glaring and his nose no less than a centimeter from hers. "Yah mine and dah ship..." She stared at him with cold grey eyes, her shoulders back and jaw squared and then she snapped. A bony fist barreled into his jaw without a single warning.

"Augh." Illya glowered at her from beneath his brow. Grabbing both her arms he pinned them to her side. "Yah dun even know how to behave." Squeezing a little harder he noticed the expression her face change and then he loosened his grip again. At that point he realized that he had lifted her right off the ground and he allowed for her feet to touch the floor again.

The bruises on her fist were worth having caused him a small measure of the irritation she had gone through since meeting him. He pinned her arms down and squeezed hard, lifting her off the floor and making bones ache a bit where his hands gripped. She didn't cry out or struggle, continuing to face him down. "I don't know how to behave?" she hissed coldly, in his grip, "You don't know how to behave. You have never even left your own planet, yet you are trying to claim me and my ship as if you know anything at all, beyond your home. Let me tell you something: I belong to no one and this ship is mine. "

Still holding onto her arms he leaned closer to her again. This time she wouldn't be punching him. "I own yah until the debt is paid. Yah want to pay for yah half da ship first den fine. I apply teaching ta that section of debt first." She was working it off fairly quickly with her knowledge and teaching. Still it was time that she knew and understood her circumstances. "If yah tink yah life isn't wort da price den maybe I should ave let yah die eh?"
She was breathing hard and it was clear given the chance she would hit him again. "You never owned this ship or me. I dealt you my knowledge and it was given. You can't claim things that don't belong to you. I imagine that is what got your people exiled in the first place, isnt it? If you don't let me go right now, you will never learn to fly. I will set us adrift and we both can die."

"Yah set us adrift and we'll die. They find us. Little bird I will keep alive for dem eh?" The Chippeqouti knew very well that she wouldn't like that. "Make sure dat's what yah wan, or yah can see da book. I make yah price fair." Illya figured she might want to see how the book worked. Otherwise he was a dead man either way and he didn't care much what she chose to do. Calling her bluff was all he wanted to do now. Idle threats were often pointless.

His mention of a book made her icy stare flicker with curiosity for a moment, though it was over run by his tight grip. She wanted to understand more. To know more. But he would never respect her and she would never submit to being owned. "If we dont cooperate, either way we are dead," she said, "Put me down and show me whatever it is you want."

The woman did make at least one concession and he set her down. Illya had been prepared to hold her all day if necessary. "Here." Reaching into his pant pocket he pulled out a little black book. "Yah crash on meh planet and I asses value of da ship. I keep yah and asses yah value. If yah wort nothing I kill yah." Pointing to the numbers he let her see that it was all permanent and he hadn't changed any prices. "Price of yah life an ship total are here." Pointing to the circled number in the middle of a page he then flipped it over to show other markings though mostly numbers. "Yah teach meh and dis yah pay. Yah pay for da life an when meh training is done I sign on part of yah crew. Dat is da deal yah make when I take yah home and fex yah up."

She opened her mouth to argue his little book of numbers, but the paused. This was more to him than just a deal, this was a way of life. They took what fell to the planet because they were trapped there...like scavengers. Her eyes dropped to the book, scanning the pages and then back to his. Part of her mission was to scout; meet new races and learn. From his view what he had done was fair and made sense, even if it did not. "Illya, has it always been this way on your planet?"

Tilting his head to look at the woman he left one finger planted on it. "Yes. It has been dis way since before da war." Carefully closing the book he slipped it back into his pant pocket. "Yah work for meh to compensate for trouble of saving yah."

In his mind, this was a truth. It wasn't a malicious one. Strictly business. Though the thought of people's lives so quickly "assessed" made her a bit angry, and if she was honest a bit sad. What a way to see life... only its functional value...She still disagreed with him entirely but he only had to think he owned anything, even if he never would. She rubbed her arms where his grip had been and stared up at him. "If all you will ever see is numbers on a page, than so be it, but you will never come at me like that again."

Returning her gaze he shrugged. "Den yah won't hit meh again." Carefully he looked down at her arms and noted the red marks where his hands had been. Illya didn't think he'd grabbed her that hard, but she was not as strong as the Chippeqouti. In a way he felt badly. He was bound by honor to protect her so long as she belonged to him and that was a failure on his part.

A moment of silence pass between the two until Calysta's eyes broke away from his and she walked past him. "I made a deal for medicine for your head, if I remember. Come and I'll give you some."

She lead him to the washroom and gave him two pills from a white bottle, before taking two herself for her own aches and to prove they were not poison. If she had wanted to poison him , she could have done it long ago with the item from her go-bag that now sat in her pocket. She left him to clean up as she thought about what their next move should be.
They were lucky that the docking station had refreshed their tap water and cleaned the filters as part of their service, but they still had no drinkable water on board or food since she had no chance, and now no funds, to buy any. It would take days to arrive at the Kaerelean Federation border. She needed to get her weapons up and find them some way to get supplies.
There was a way they could earn funds, but it involved another stop. She wondered if Illya had any oppositions to gambling, and how far his affinity for numbers could go.
 
Illya followed after Kalizda quietly. What he wanted was to just go lay down in the tiny bunk. It had been her previous partner's bed and while it wasn't the more comfortable the man wasn't going to complain. In a way it was nice to have a real bed instead of just a mat on the ground. If he could go back there were so many things that he would have changed. Instead he was here now and things were as they were. There was no point in wanting to go back or trying to fix the past.

Cutting the thoughts of the past short he took the tablets from Kalizda and swallowed them before wandering over to the spigot to wash them down with a tiny splash of water. Even if the ship 's well had been filled while they were gone he had no idea how far they would need to go before it would be reasonable to stop again. Taking the garbage bin again he frowned. It was too bad he didn't have a chance to get a real wash bucket. Running a little water into the bucket he carefully dipped his fingers into it so he could wash the side of his face and around the wound in his head. In many ways the day felt like forever and in other ways he couldn't believe that he was here and time had gone by so quickly

Wandering over to the quarters he blindly flopped on the bed as gingerly as he could and used the pillow to prop himself up just a little bit. Sometime during the night he heard mumbling and sat up in the bed. Maybe she talked in her sleep. Laying down he slept again and stayed in bed all the next day. There wasn't any point in hurrying for anything till they were ready to land.

After 2 days of avoiding the woman and sleeping nearly all day Illya felt somewhat better and far more human. Oddly it seemed that the woman wanted to stop here to get some fast money. A grin came to his face and he winked. "I know how ta get some money. Take meh to a fighting ring. I win da purse and den yah use it to bet on meh. Just remember dis for meh ok? It's bad luck to bet against a Chippeqouti. We all know dis and we always bet on ourselves." With a widening grin he couldn't help notice that her face wasn't quite as excited or pleased in expression. "Eh, yah jes dun know how many oter ideas I ave and never use. Should give meh some credit for not using every idea that I ave."
 
Illya slept and Calytsa was grateful that for once he wasn't at her back. Too much had happened over the past days and she needed the time to process and think about everything. Her hand was bruised from punching him in his strong jaw and there were a few spots on her arms, but those she suspected were accidents. He could have done much worse, like rip her throat out, but he had only meant to keep her from hitting again.

Even so, she was relieved when he went into their quarters and fell asleep. She spent her time making repairs as they slipped through quadrant after quadrant. After installing the navigation panel and running diagnostics until her eyes were too tired to look over the numbers, she retreated to her bed. The sight of the man snoring faintly on the bed made her chuckle. Illya took up most of her co-pilots space, his shoulders were too wide for the bed frame and his feet hung from the end. She laid down on her uninjured side and stared at him for awhile. Messy black curls were flopped over into his face and his arms were folded behind his head. The hum of the ship could make anyone sleep like baby.


****

They landed on a small planet called R'kt, most of which was a barren, ice-covered waste land. The population lived in deep tunnels underground where the only warmth could be found and ran any trade that would attract business, but the main offering was gambling. Here they could hopefully earn enough money for rations and drinkable water. As they exited the ship into the cold bay, he looked to her with a broad grin and winked. Apparently sleeping for two days had improved his mood.

"Eh, yah jes dun know how many oter ideas I ave and never use. Should give meh some credit for not using every idea that I ave."

Her serious look melted, and some how she found herself smiling at him before breaking out into a laugh. "I think you use plenty of them, Illya."

They took an elevator down to the depths of the gambling quarter and came up to the entry window where a bookie with faceted bug eyes waited for them. Beyond the door to the right of the window the sounds of a crowd cheering and jeering could be heard.

"You fight'n?" the creature buzzed as his glassy eyes looked her over in amusement.

"No, I'm here to place an entry."

The insect glanced up to Illya standing behind her, obviously much more impressed. " Biggun'. Name an' species of yer slave?"

"Uh, this is X'ren, and I'm not sure what he is," she lied, "Doesn't speak very much. Great for repairing engines though."

"Tha' so? His first round'll be in 10 minutes keep'm under control til' he's in the arena. If'n he wins he'll be put up on the roster autuhmatically. Good luck."

Calysta nodded as the door to the right buzzed, unlocking for them to enter. Inside was a massive stone pit fifteen feet deep with a dirt floor where two large creatures were locked in bloody combat, grappling with each other, while the crowed screamed at them, urging them to fight. She disliked the fight pits and what they represented, but Illya had been insistent he could win the money they needed. After what she had seen him do, she had no doubt that he could.

When the fight ended and one of the creatures drug from the pit, a new round began with Illya's fake name announced over the intercom. The opponents name was announced as Tryl.

Calysta looked to Illya who had been standing beside her watching the previous fight. "Good luck..." she said, with wink, "I'm betting on you to win, you know."

As she spoke, the opponent dropped into the ring. He stood taller than Illya and equally as broad with yellow skin and not two but four arms. He howled and pointed at them both as he pounded his chest, inviting them to fight.
 
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A few days of leaving the woman alone seemed to improve her attitude. Much like a child he had to put her away for a time so that she learned being with others was a privilege. If the future provided for such opportunities he figured it couldn't hurt to keep this little lesson in mind. The smile was a little nerve wracking though and he tilted his head before answering. "I tink mebbe I dun use enough eh?" It was half in jest. Illya liked to see if he could get reactions out of the woman and she seemed to be in good humor. Enough that he couldn't quite get a rile out of her. Perhaps she felt badly for him going down into the pits. Snorting to himself he almost had to laugh. She wouldn't feel bad for him if it took a lifetime. So far she'd shown nothing, but disdain for his person and way of life.

Despite the attempts to distract himself Illya couldn't help feeling a little nervous. He'd heard of the pits a few times and none of it was good unless you were talking about the money. Numbers could be unpredictable, but Illya had never lost a fight yet. Wasn't often anyone would challenge him and when they did he wasn't worried about it. More of his concerns when he fought was the possibility of injury or just the general hassle of a fight.

Finally the elevator came to a halt and he watched as the doors slid open. Silently walking behind the woman he watched her take control of the situation. Illya was glad she had because he was concerned he wouldn't have been proficient enough in the language to make his desire to fight clear. In the meantime he studied the large eyes on the one that Kalizda spoke with. Those giant eyes made him wonder if they were anything like a fly. Did he see a thousand images of each person in his eyes and create a fourth dimension? The momentary wondering came to a stop when he heard the name she chose, which was worthy of a glare and he figured he could after they were out of this alien's line of vision. There was also a slightly irritating fact that this little bookie thought he was the slave. For now it didn't matter. If they needed money it was his job to ensure that they had it and if he wanted her to perform as a pilot and teacher then he needed to give her the appropriate tools. This fight was necessary as were the next few. Whatever it took and he wasn't sure how long the night would be. At least the concussion seemed to have passed and he didn't have anymore headaches from the bullet.

Illya cautiously followed behind the woman and watched the fight before his take place. It was fairly fast paced and he studied the two of them fighting. It wasn't hard to guess which one would be winning. Some men were good at it and others were not so much. What made him most curious was whether this was a fight to the death or just till the other gave up. Perhaps those were questions he could have asked before coming into the room. From appearances it was till someone died or until the other fighter was unable to continue. Maiming was the order of the day. He didn't want to kill anyone he didn't have to.

Any of the preliminary thoughts about the fight were shoved to the back of his mind while he watched the fighters to see if there was anything different about the pit. Some of the walls he noticed the men were avoiding. Edging a bit closer to the front Illya tilted his head to get a look at the wall. There were plenty of spikes along the edges and then patches of rough stone that would tear a man up if nothing else did.

Suddenly he was finding himself being nudged and then he heard his name being called over the speaker for a second time. That name she chose was lousy. Next time they did something like this he was going to pick the name in advance. Something he could remember. Dropping into the pit he looked up at the hundreds of faces gathered round. Many of them were drunk and they were just here for a show. He could give them any kind of show they wanted as long as it got what they needed in the end.

His opponent dropped into the pit with him and the man beat on his chest like he was some sort of animal. Illya stared at him for a long moment and then walked toward the center. No need to get himself caught along the walls. What he didn't know about the center was the trap that was set to keep men toward the sidelines. A click sounded and Illya wasn't sure if he should stand still or jump. Either way the opponent had started barreling toward him and if it was a land mine Illya might lose his leg, but the other would lose his face. Leaping off the center plate in hardly a blink of an eye he felt a sharp snap dig into his boot and he fell back in the attempt to get free. Tearing the sole of his shoe from the jaws of the trap.

Rolling to the side Illya rose back up to find himself wrapped with four massive arms. With a vicious jab of his elbow he caught the creature right in chin and with the extra space allowed by the four arms he turned to face his opponent. Taking hold of the thick hair on top of the alien's head he scrambled up the body of the creature and smashed heads with it. Almost instantly a blinding light flashed through his own head, but the other had fallen limply to the ground. For now Illya wanted to play by his own rules of only maiming and not killing.

There were some boos an a few surprised cheers from the crowd. Lifting his face he glared at them. For those that were booing the loudest he figured he could give them a little start. Racing across the bottom of the pit and then launching himself part way up the wall he kicked against the jagged rocks and pulled himself nearly up to the crowd. Many of them that would have been in reach backed away with shocked expressions. A few were still too drunk to care and they laughed at him like he was some sort of pet. The temptation was too much so he grabbed one that was close enough and began to drag him to the edge of the arena. There was so much yelling and screaming that Illya figured the drunk had learned his lesson. Dropping back into the pit he waited for the next unfortunate person that he would have to fight.

It seemed that once you entered for the night it was for the entire night. Illya would glance at the woman from time to time. He was tired of all the fighting, but they had to be done soon. Sweat was dripping from his forehead and he blinked a few times. Hopefully she knew better than to bet everything on him every round.

One man approached the woman and he smiled broadly. "You make a fortune with that one. What would your price be if you were going to sell him?"

Illya almost cheered when he heard the announcement for the last round. It was all going to be over with soon enough. After the other fights he had worked up a sweat, but he wasn't even going to have much bruising to show for it. Looking up at Kalizda again he noticed that she was talking with a man and it made him wonder what was going on. What he really needed was to focus on the last fight.

A leathery, giant, hairy man fell into the pit and he showed his sharp teeth in a crooked smile. This was the same kind of alien that she had warned him not to make angry. Illya took a deep breath. She probably knew better than he did and so far he hadn't been worried about any of his adversaries until now. Perhaps it was because he was too ignorant about the others to know if he should be concerned or not. Working his way around the edges he cautiously made his approach on the giant creature. Like lightening the hulking figure threw him against the wall. It as far faster than one would initially give it credit for. The Chippeqouti felt sharp rocks dig into his skin and he counted himself lucky that it hadn't been the spiked part of the wall.

Groaning he pulled himself off the ground. His entire back felt like it was on fire. Just as he stumbled to his feet and staggered a little he saw the huge alien come at him again. This time he didn't underestimate the speed, but there was only time to block the hit. Throwing his arm up Illya caught the heavy punch right in the middle of his forearm. With a sharp left hook as a counter he caught the other right in the kidney. Momentarily the opponent doubled and stumbled back. Illya pursued with a few more quick jabs aimed for the gut the Chip ended his spurt of punches with a right undercut to the chin.

The other was losing ground and then it surprisingly brought a knee up into Illya's chest. "Ugh..." Clutching at his chest momentarily the Chippeqouti decided this one would be far more difficult to just simply maim. This time he waited for the alien to charge again and he side stepped. Jumping in behind the adversary, Illya wrapped his arms around its neck and tightened his grip with one arm and then dug his fingers into the pressure point near the point where the shoulder meets the neck with his other hand. A strong arm reached up and pried his hand pressing on the pressure point. It was far too logical and Illya could only assume that this alien had fought in the ring before and he knew that Illya was trying to put him out faster than what choking would do. The neck hold was only a distraction.

Using both arms to pull Illya's one arm out in front the creature began to run and then threw itself on the ground making the outstretched arm of Illya's crash into a rock with both their bodies weight on it. A loud crack sounded and Illya cried out. Still determined to win the fight he loosened his arm around the creatures neck only long enough to tighten his grasp by grabbing onto his opposite upper arm. The creature pulled itself off the ground and began to pull on the broken arm while it tried to back up against a spiked wall.

Illya braced against a safe portion of the wall with his feet and he pushed back until he felt the creature beneath him crumple. When they hit the ground he held on for a moment longer and then got up. Cradling his arm he stumbled for the edge of the arena and waited for the rope to be lowered so he could get out of the pit.
 
"Eh, yah jes dun know how many oter ideas I ave and never use. Should give meh some credit for not using every idea that I ave.".

"I think you use plenty of them, Illya."

"I tink mebbe I dun use enough eh?"

Calysta gave a light laugh and she looked at him with a wry smile. "I think you are lucky to get what you do from me."

"What do I get from yah?" Illya's eyes almost pushed into half moons as he grinned back at her.

Her smile grew to a playful one as the elevator shuddered to a halt. "Why the pleasure of my company of course."

Illya raised one eyebrow. "Well yah seem to think highly of yahself. I feel bettah a few days without yah."

"Yes, the vacation was nice," she quipped, half jokingly.

"Glad yah enjoyed it, Kalizda."

****

Calysta had only been to the fighting pits twice before, once as a child and the other as a raw cadet in Skycorp. She'd hated it both times. The smell of blood and booze among sweat lingered here even when the pits were closed. When Illya jumped into the ring for his first round, she was surprised to see him looking so calm. Was he not nervous about stepping into the ring at all?

She watched him, her grey eyes intent as the two massive competitors circled each other and then made their moves. Illya immediately found the trap in the center. Forgetting how indestructible he was, she gasped and grabbed the side rail in her fists. "Watch the walls!" she yelled, trying to warn him of those too. Her words were lost to the jeers of the drunken crowd. Why had she thought bringing him here was a good idea?
Illya had been confident that he could win, but he never let his home planet before and some of his opponent he would she did not want him to die in the process.

He freed himself and then brought a swift end to the first round, and she was relieved for a moment. He lived...and he had won! The crowd jeered at him and as he glared into the bright spotlights, panting. Suddenly, jumped up the edge of the area, snatching up a drunk. The spectators scattered, clawing and climbing over one another trying to get away.

"Control your slave!"

As if she had any control over him? This is why she hated the fighting pits. People were not chattel. For as rude as Illya could be, he was not an animal, but being in the pits too long could make you into one. She had seen what it could do to a person first hand. He released the man before the bouncers could wade through the crowd to stop him, and dropped back into the pit, looking satisfied.

Round after round he took down every opponent. Not only did he win, but she noticed he did so without killing the other.
He had enough skills to take on someone without killing them and did so even though it created more work. When he had killed his comrade, she had thought he was the type that would kill because he had the capability. He was simply stronger than everyone else and knew it. Watching him, she realized that had been an assumption on her part and not in keeping with how he had treated her so far.


Incapacitating his opponents took its toll though and when the last round was called, Illya stood in the ring covered in sweat and caked with dirt. He had blood splattered on him, but it was impossible to tell if it was his or not and he looked tired. She caught his bright eyes as he glanced up and she gave him an encouraging smile, until the Udine stepped into the ring across from him.

The creature towered over him and her grip on the rail tightened, her knuckles turning white. Udines were violent with skin that was nearly impenetrable, and they felt no pain. They were typically banned from the ring because it would be almost impossible to fight one, even with weapons, much less with bare hands. Whoever was setting the matches had allowed one to fight, probably as a test and the please the crowd.
The two clashed and the crowd around her roared with battle lust and drunken jeering.

"You make a fortune with that one. What would your price be if you were going to sell him?"

The voice was nasally and caught her off guard in middle of the fight. A thin man with black hair and several earrings up his nose was looking at her with a broad smile.

"He's not for sale," she replied, turning her eyes back to the fight.

The man stepped closer to her and put his hand on the rail beside hers. "Everything has a price. Tell me what his would be."

Calysta turned to him, her grey eyes flickering with annoyance. She was keenly aware that some believed everything had a price, even if she didn't agree with it. "True, but I'll say it again: He is not for sale."

A loud crack echoed from the ring and she looked down to see Illya pinned against the wall. He was hurt and it was more than just a simple cut this time. She forgot all about the man standing beside her as the Chip continued fighting. "Illya!"

As soon as the Udine crumpled to the ground under his hands, she shoved her way over to the opposite side of the arena where he was climbing up. Greeting him with a smile, but concerned grey eyes. She couldn't ask him if he was alright here. That is not what owners did, and she would look strange to ask. Instead, she began pushing back the cheering crowds to get him away from the pit.

******

He had earned more than enough to supply them, but it was relieving to be done with the pits. She collected their earnings, and after shaking off some of Illya's new fans, she managed to order a stock of rations and fresh water delivered to the Gylcryn. Thinking of Illya, she also ordered more medical supplies before making their way back to the ship.

"Are you alright?" she could finally ask now they were walking alone.

A man stopped in front of them, blocking the corridor to the elevator. The same man who had wanted to buy Illya. "I thought you looked familiar. You're not an owner."

Looked familiar? How could she look familiar? Two broad shouldered men came from behind them and one grabbed her arms twisting them behind her back as the other went for Illya.

"I'll take you to the Baxrions, for the bounty on your head," he said with a cool smile, "Perhaps you should have sold the man while you could and left. Now, he'll be mine for the pits."

Calysta stepped back, driving her heel into the man's toes. "Ahg!" His grip loosened and she sent a pointed elbow into his ribs, then while he doubled over her, she whipped around and sent her palm into his nose. He howled as the cartilage crumpled from the strike and blood exploded. Stumbling away, the attacker glared at her, holding his nose.

"Oooo'bith!"

With a growl he leaped at her, trying to tackle her to the ground, but she side stepped then delivered a hard kick to his knee as he passed. With a snap and a scream, he went down clutching his knee. A yelp hit her ears and she turned her attention to Illya, ready to take down the next.
 
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The rope dropped in front of Illya and it was a small ladder form. Not much to go by and he carefully took hold of it with his one hand and let his broken arm hang limply at his side. Heaving himself up to get his feet on the rope rung he winced a little. His hand hanging loose was shaking uncontrollably and Illya couldn't feel it, but he knew it was shaking because he could feel it fluttering against his side. It was far more comfortable to have the arm cradled instead of straight, but he didn't have the strength in his arm to keep it held at an angle. With the first step on the ladder it tilted to the side and Illya mashed his shoulder into the wall with a little added pressure to his arm he groaned. It was impossible to hide the fact that his arm hurt to high heaven.

When he finally reached the top after mashing his arm several times he stood at the edge of the gate half dazed. He barely comprehended what was going on. Staggering behind the woman he instinctively winced when some of the people started to gather around them. One thing did stick out to the man. Kalizda was keeping the crowds away and he wished he could have expressed some kind of thanks, though at this time it would pose a certain risk.

Gradually the crowd of people thinned out and the two of them were soon alone as they came near the elevator. Illya carefully held his arm in place and tried to keep the hand from quivering so much. Gritting his teeth he shook his head in answer to her question. Right now he felt like anything, but ok. They were almost to the elevator and to freedom when they were stopped. Whatever was going on he didn't like it and Illya carefully let his injured arm down and stuffed the numb hand into his pant pocket so there would be some support for his arm.

A man reached for his arm and Illya growled before turning sharply and bringing the elbow on his good arm up to the neck of the enemy. Smashing him in the throat firmly he heard a cry and then gasping. This one regretfully wouldn't be making it out alive. The Chip stared at the writhing figure on the ground. A collapsed airway was something you couldn't fix and he wouldn't get any help in time even if there was something to do for it. Turning slightly he caught a tiny fist in the shoulder and he glowered at her momentarily. With his good hand he grabbed her by the arm and pulled the woman into the elevator with himself.

Slumping against the wall Illya cringed as he pulled his hand out of his pocket. Even the slight movement of that caused him a considerably amount of discomfort. His arm had swelled at the elbow and it was nearly impossible to bend it more than 90 degrees. There was swelling and bruising that had begun to extend his his hand and all the area around the break was a deep purple with some splotchy looking skin as it discolored due to the internal bleeding from the break.

Before they reached the doors of the building the cold air rushed at them. Closing his eyes momentarily the Chip clenched his jaw and lowered his head as if it would deflect some of the cold. He hated how bitter this planet was and then the wind made it all the more harsh. It soothed the pain in his arm slightly, but it didn't help that much because the cold caused the rest of his muscles to contract to help maintain a little more warmth. The break above his elbow was almost unbearable by the time he walked up the ramp of the ship. They needed to get out of here and he needed something for his arm. By now the majority of the pain had dulled and instead of feeling the intense pain in his arm he felt sick.

Illya gingerly sat on the edge of the very small bed and then laid back while still holding his arm. His hand was still twitching and he ignored that for the moment. No matter how hard he tried not to make noise about it, Illya started to moan and groan within a few minutes of the ship starting into take off. Every vibration seemed to surge through his bone and no amount of padding could help it. Illya in a moment of desperation shoved his pillow behind his shoulder and wrapped his arm in a blanket to see if it would keep things manageable for now. What he was most concerned about would be the possibility of a fever or something else that might go with the injury.
 
Calysta turned to the man who had stopped them as Illya dealt with his own assailant well enough. The man started to pull a gun from inside his coat pocket. What a terrible place to keep a weapon. Launching forward as his arm extended she knocked the muzzle to the side with one hand, reared back and punched him in the mouth. Yelling, he stumbled back and she snatched the weapon out of his hand, and pointed it at him. The man with the earrings wiped at his bleeding mouth and spat at her before running away. She needed answers and started to aim at his leg, but Illya grabbed her arm, tugging her away. The man turned down a corner and out of sight, taking whatever information he had with him. There was no time to chase him down and doing so would just expose Illya even more.

He pulled her into the elevator and immediately sank against the hall, clutching at his arm. Pocketing the gun, she hit the lever that sent them to the surface. As the elevator rattled its way up, to the surface and opened, Calysta gasped at the sudden blast of cold that struck them. Illya was walking slower and a bit crouched from his injury and it made progress through the frigid air all the more aching until they reached the extending ramp of the Gylcryn.

Illya hobbled toward their quarters while she came to her pilots seat and brought the engines online before lifting off. She rocketed from the atmosphere and started them in a cruising speed, putting as much distance between them and Rk't as she possibly could. A bounty on her head? Braxions? Why would they put a bounty on her? The Kaereleans were in treaty talks with them and she had just delivered one of the signing diplomats to the Ginarah, a neutral planet. What would they possibly want with her?

A groan sounded from the the quarters over the hum of the engines. Illya. She put the Gylcryn in auto pilot and strode down the hall to their quarters to find him cradling his arm wrapped in a blanket and still filthy from the fight.

"Hang on." She left the door way, and when she returned, she came with a box of medical supplies and a cup of water. Placing the medical supplies on the table she knelt beside him and looked at his arm before looking him in the eye. His bright eyes were dulled with pain. This was her fault. "I have some things for pain, but if your arm is broken, it will have to be set. Let me see?"

Shifting on the bed slightly he watched her leave the room. When she returned Illya felt his stomach lurch at the sight of the cup. He didn't think he'd be able to keep anything down. When she leaned closer to look at his arm he frowned at her. She seemed to be insistent on seeing it though he'd wrapped his arm and he was holding it as still as possible for the time. Even if she was right that they would have to set it, he didn't want to have anyone even look at it. Right now Illya could almost swear that it hurt for someone to look at his arm. It was as if every nerve knew that someone was looking. Carefully peeling a layer of the blanket away from his arm he winced. Illya watched her warily. She'd only asked to see his arm and he wasn't prepared for her to touch his arm in the least.

Angry, swollen skin took up the patter part of his arm. It had broken so badly, she could hardly believe he had managed to climb out of the pit with it in such a condition. Swallowing, she reached for a white pill bottle and opened it up, dumping some of the pills into her bony hand, before looking him in the eye. He forehead was beaded in sweat, this time from the pain he was in. "It's broken...and will have to be set...but I don't want to do that unless you ask. These pills will help dull the pain either way...."

Illya took the pill from her and swallowed it. No matter how sick he felt, anything to help with his arm would be worth it. "No point setting it unless yah got something to hold it in place." Gingerly he put the blanket over his arm again and carefully supported his arm. "Know any doctors?" The only one he knew was back home and they couldn't go there. Surely if she had been travelling she would know of one that could help.

"Yes, but they are not close. It will take a day or so to reach them from here," she replied quietly, her eyes shifting from his, "I can get us there in less time if I push though."

Nodding a little he winced. "Eh, do what yah know best. Hurrying might not help." Illya shifted in the bed a little. "Anything for uh..." He couldn't think of the word. "Am I hot?"

His cheeks were red, but that could be from pain and shock from the injury. She reach up tentatively and put the back of her cool fingers on his forehead and his cheeks, checking for fever. "You're warm, yes," she replied, brushing a curl away, " I don't know anything about your physi- your body- Would you have a fever so soon?"

Illya shook his head. "No. I need medicine." Adjusting his arm a little he winced. "Something to stop meh from gettin too warm. Eh...I get uh..." Pausing he tried to think of how to describe it because he couldn't even get close to coming up with the right word. In fact he was certain he didn't know it. "Too warm makes meh shake?"

She gazed at him, her grey eyes focused on trying to understand, but failing. She didn't know specifically what he meant by 'shake' but she figured he was talking about a fever. Fevers could be just as deadly was another other serious wound. She dug in to the medicine pack until she found a pack of pills and popped one out. "This isn't going to stop a fever...but it will keep the heat lower until we can get to a doctor...take this." She put the pill in his good hand and then came left the room. A moment later she returned with a rag dampened with cool water and placed it onto his forehead, hoping to see some relief. "Something my father would do when I had a fever as s child. It will keep the burning a little lower too, hopefully."

Obviously she didn't understand what he meant and went a little overboard on things with the cloth, but he wasn't going to refuse the help. Anything that would prevent a fever was going to be good enough. "Danks." Taking the cloth from her he wiped his face off the rest of the way. A grin started to cross his face though his forehead was still creased. "Eh, yah break bones or sickly?"

She smiled some at his question. "Both, I suppose. I'm not a full blooded Kaerelean and that made things hard, but I'm stubborn, so that made up for it."

"Half blood?" Illya was shocked and slightly horrified at the prospect. No wonder she wasn't well as a child. He'd never met a half blood that was in good health.

His tone as he spoke the word, made his disgust over her lineage clear and her smile faded to be replaced by reddening cheeks. "Yes. My mother was a Kaerelean and my father a Terran, another humanoid race."

His frown grew deeper as he thought about why someone would purposefully choose a partner outside of their own kind. "Chippeqouti never choose outside." As he made the statement a little matter of fact came to his mind and he chuckled a little. "Eh well...No one else would ave us." Wincing again he tried to adjust his position to give her more room to sit. "Why would she, yah mum look outside her race?"

He shifted over and she let herself come a little closer, careful not to bump his arm. "Heh, I couldn't imagine why," she said, with a quiet laugh and a crooked smile, "I'm not sure why my mother fell in love with my father. She met my father on a Kaerelean outpost as he was passing through. They stayed with each other a few weeks and that was the end. When I was born, she sent me to Kaereal where my father was stationed and I never met her. My father raised me." She let a quiet moment pass and then looked to the bright eyed man again. "Your people view partnering differently?"

"Uh...y-yes." Illya was slightly confused at the arrangements made for her as a child. "De woman chooses her partner and de man accepts. Dey work togeter and dey ave some children. Little ones work soon as dey are big enough. A mate is very important. We only like to agree once. Dere is no law against partners outside de race. It just doesn't happen."

He seemed to be in less pain now, or at least the conversation was distracting him, and her curiosity was piqued, "Agree only once?" she mused, "That would make things far simpler. If there are no laws against partners outside of your race, then why don't you? Is it because you don't like people like me?"

Illya sighed. "No, because we are alone and a woman wants a strong mate." For a moment he became quiet. "A man only accepts if he likes de woman. He can't choose, he waits for a woman to ask, because she tinks he will make a good mate."

"And women outside never choose males from you culture," she reasoned, quietly, "Logical enough. Different from my world, but logical." She checked his forehead again, noting the temperature had not improved, but she needed to go set the course for the doctor. Rising to her feet gingerly, she looked him over feeling of all things, guilt. "I'll go plot the course for the doctor and come back in a few minutes.," she said before giving him a little smile, "Don't go using any of those ideas you have while I'm gone."

Illya gave her a weak smile. "Yes, that is why we don't have any half blood." Then her joke only made him smirk a little wider. "Meh only idea is to sleep."

She chuckled and flipped off the light before closing the door, to let the man rest. With things under control, she returned to the cock-pit and began laying a course for Zkreen. The Zkree were a humanoid race living on an idyllic continent on their home world. They prided their society on perfection, having done away with more feral needs, they devoted their lives to science, including medicine, and the development of their culture. Their standards for scientific improvement and innovation attracted some of the brightest minds from all over the galaxy. Men and women who wanted to study and collaorate with them. While they do allow understudies, they tended to look down on other races, and could become impossible to work with. Calysta had had the pleasure of meeting one of the Zkree on one of her first scouting missions. A blond haired, blue eyed woman and physician called Detra.

Lucky for her, Detra owed her a favor and it was time to call it in. With the course laid in, and no pursuers in sight for the moment, Calysta leaned her head back against her chair and tried to rest her own mind.
 
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