Silence

Anonymous Me
@aryamajor

There was a hush that fell over the desert this time of day. It was blazing hot and there wasn’t much that dared to brave the heat of the day. The tall lean figures retreated to their stone huts. Inside it was mostly cool though by evening it would be warm enough to ward off the majority if the cold. Now it was just the long hours of nearly blistering heat. However, it wasn’t the usual afternoon retreat to cool off.

Reaching underneath the bed roll the man withdrew a sword. It was one of the more effective weapons against his kind. He had a gun to ward off other kinds of trouble, but he preferred if there was a raid to use the sword as his primary weapon. The sword scabbard scraped against the rocks as it was pulled from underneath the dusty mat. Part way through retrieving his weapon he heard a cry go out across the village. Maybe the other clan had attacked first? Leaving the scabbard behind he simply drew the sword out by the hilt and whipped out the doorway of the stone hut.

A massive rolling cloud of the red sand swirled into the air and began to drop in waving curtains. This made it a good day. Ships rarely landed on the planet and whichever clan was close enough could make the raid. Since it was rare to find survivors now all he had to do was lay claim to whatever he wanted after the loot was gathered.

Laying his sword aside he started to draw near the ship with the others. “I’ll take the craft.” It looked to be in good enough shape that if he could figure it out the ship may fly again. A hum sounded overhead as another ship flew overhead and he ducked instinctively. While none of them had flown a ship the man knew that they were dangerous if you were not prepared. Cautiously he peered at the sky with his brilliant green colored eyes. Sneaking a little closer to the craft he laid a tanned hand on the ship and pulled at the levers.

Some of the others had begun to anxiously seek refuge anywhere that might hide them from the ship overhead. He wanted to see what sort of loot he could gain from this craft and instead continued to pry until the one lever that had been jammed came loose. A creak sounded and then a loud bang. Jumping a little he smashed his head into the ship and then growled. The man gingerly ran one large hand through his thick, wavy, black hair. Cursing under his breath he ducked under the wing and approached the door carefully. Reaching for his gun he shook his head. It was foolhardy to have approached without his sword.

This ship was in far better shape than many of the others that had landed and whoever was inside happened to be alive because the door had swung open and there wasn’t anyone in view just yet. Peering over his shoulder he couldn’t help the growing frown or sense of unease that he felt.
 
She hit the button frantically trying to get the landing gear to extend before the whole craft scrubbed, or simply shattered on the planet surface. Entering the atmosphere had been hard enough, having lost enough blood from the cut in her side to make her dizzy. A sliver of glass from her shattered navigational panel was still embedded in her left side, after being sent there by an unprovoked attack .Who attacks a ship mid-jump with no warning? None! Where between Kaereal and Juya had she been forced from the jump? Were they still out there? What planet was this?

The shattered navigational display crackled at her uselessly as the ship half bounced, half collided with the ground, sending even more pain into her from the motion. There was no way to tell where she was, but her exterior screen displayed an arid climate. Bright sun, and featureless red sand made up the landscape as far as her screen could see. Another one of the many warning sirens began blaring into the small cock pit. Proximity warnings. With a flick of her fingers over the control panel, she changed the cameras to the side. Natives of the area were approaching at a fast pace and they didn't look like they were there to make friends. "Shit"

With another quick stroke of the glass panel she tried to bring up the only defense the small craft had, but a groan and a click from below made it clear that wasn't an option. Weapons were out too. She unzipped the stiff collar of her grey flight suit, and tugged off her cap to free her black pony tail. No need for full uniform just to go into a skirmish.

Now, one of the Natives was right on her. A man with dark hair pried at the side of her craft with a blade in his hand. Wincing, she rose from the pilot's seat and hobbled her way down the corridor to the mechanism that opened it. After pulling down on the door-latch, she drew her side-arm from the holster at her hip. The weapon carried 20 shots, so there was no wasting the ammo. She would shoot to kill, but only if she had to. A warning bell accompanied a decompressing hiss as the door popped open. Steeling herself for a fight, she held her weapon with shaking hands as the man boarded.

He held his weapon with a steady hand, looking opposite of the corridor and to the blood-stained cockpit first. Good.

"Don't move, or I will shoot," she said, as sternly from behind him.
 
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Since there wasn't any immediate danger the man decided to board the ship. He could at least get a look at the inside. All he had was a gun and the pathetic knife that he had used to help pry the door open. Mentally he was still kicking himself for leaving that sword behind. It was so strange to find a ship that could still be walked through with ease. Sadly it wasn't all that big. In a way it was disappointing to think that he had claimed his loot as the ship. Since he was going to have to challenge at least 3 others for the rights to own the ship it was best to see what kind of condition it was in and soon enough the others would be crowding in to lay claim to other things.

The boots he wore left a small trail of sand wherever he went. It was a fine almost smooth sort of sand that stuck to every surface like clay. Even a hint of moisture made it stick like a plaster to whichever surface it touched. Almost silently he worked his way through the short entry toward the light. A little light was usually where all the controls were at.

Taking a breath he stared at the small opening to the cock pit and he frowned. There was blood everywhere and no body. Wasn't any sign of ejection either. Sometimes there was a special hatch that fliers escaped through. Ducking his head he started to move into the pit to investigate it further and to look for whoever had flown the craft. They could be hidden in the small cabinet. Before he could reach the cabinet he heard a voice behind himself. Obviously that was where the pilot had gone to. It sounded like a female voice and she was using the common tongue. One that he understood more than he spoke. Everyone learned some of the common language if they wanted to trade anything between clans, or were interested in travelling more extensively in the future.

Telling him to stay still was a stupid thing. Did she really expect that he would stand there and let her kill him? Thankfully he had already ducked enough that he could easily dive into the cock pit. Carefully he put his hands out to the side and then made a sharp twist though it wasn't in time to completely avoid the fury of a bullet from her gun. She was a far better shot than he had anticipated. The entire back of his shoulder throbbed. Even the shoulder blade hurt a little, but it didn't break. That was what most didn't understand about his kind.

Readjusting his grip on the hilt of the knife the man licked his lips and took a sharp breath. It was hurting, but he needed to make sure this little female wasn't going to be causing anymore trouble. Any hesitation on her part told him that she wasn't likely to be reveling in the thought of charging in after him. "Yah did ent tink ta ave me stay put eh?" With a thick accent he posed his mostly rhetorical question to the woman.

Sliding along the wall a little closer to the doorway he reached out and shoved the door shut with all his might. Unfortunately the frame had been bent enough that the door did not close firmly and instead clanged before swinging back open. Letting out a sigh and a few choice curses he decided to stay put till some of the others from the village came to loot or finish her off. Shouldn't be too long.
 
He had spoken the traders language well enough to understand her command, but had disobeyed anyways. The shot was still ringing in her ear and another wave of dizziness swept over. The bright crimson stain was spreading over her jumpsuit with each passing second, and she could feel the blood running down her side. If she didn't stop the bleeding soon, she was going to pass out and they would probably kill her. The medical kit was in the back, in a secured locker, but she couldn't leave the door unguarded either. He was sitting out there waiting for her to do something stupid, or waiting for reinforcements to arrive.
She leaned against the bulk- head wall near the broken hatch, holding her side in one hand and her pistol ready in the other. From this angle she would be covered from any incoming fire unless they came through the door, which they would regret, but it also blocked her view of what was happening outside.

"And you didn't think I was serious, eh?" she quipped through the door. "I don't want a fight, but I will if you force me to."
 
Was she mocking him? Eyes widening slightly and then narrowing he scowled. Throwing the eh at the end. It was just the way he talked most of the time and she was throwing it back with an obvious twist that seemed to be a pathetic imitation of his accent. However, that last little sentence caught his attention and he peered about the blood spattered room. Some of this was likely hers. "Uh...I dun-dun not ave ta fight yah. Some dis blud ist yo-ours." It seemed that whoever the female was she could speak the language far more fluidly and he was struggling to form his sentences. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he couldn't quite make it sound as good as he wanted and for some of it was he wasn't even sure that it came out right. "Ah cun wait."

Having the female alive might be beneficial the more he thought about it. He wouldn't have to figure out how to fly all by himself. There was a possibility that he would have to fight some of the others if he laid claim to her too. "Yah like ta live?" Waiting for a moment he grinned and then continued. "Make deal wit meh?"
 
She listened to him and gave a dry laugh, causing a sharp pain through her side. It was obvious, even through his piecemeal traders-talk, that he knew time was on his side. All he had to do was wait for her to bleed out. What is it he could possibly want besides to whatever small tokens he could scrap from her ship? Unless it was her wanted, for whatever reason.

Of course, she would be dead soon at this rate. Heat rolled in from outside, but it was a cold sweat trickling down her temples. Swiping her hair off her forehead, she took a deep breath before replying.
"Why are you offering deals, when you could easily let me die? What could you possibly want?"
Her voice came out far more unsteady that she desired.
 
The smell of blood was getting thicker in the ship. It was beginning to heat up like a little oven and he wiped some of sweat forming on his brow. A smirk came to his face when she gave her nearly shaky reply. There was a hint of strain in her voice and that meant he wouldn't have to wait long for her to become unable to resist if she proved to be problematic in the near future.

Shifting he leaned a bit closer to the door. Obviously she had not understood his meaning to make a deal and that meant he had the upper hand. He had the upper hand anyway and he was determined to have his way no matter what she thought. "Eh...I wa-ant ta fly. Yah mine da ship is mine. I fly." His brow creased with intensity as he strained to hear her answer no matter how weak or strong it came out. If she just said yes it would be far easier than having to fight for his rights to her and the ship and then fight her to. Fighting her wouldn't be too big of a deal. For the most part he was sure that she would be easily defeated and while he hadn't got a very good look at her he had noticed that she was considerably smaller. "Deal?"
 
She could almost hear him smiling in his reply and a shock of indignation coursed through her." Yah mine da ship is mine."

If he was laying claim, he could simply come in and take her and the ship, but he was still waiting. Maybe he really does want to fly? Then it dawned on her that he may want her ship, but he wouldn't know how to pilot the craft, even if he tried. A wry smile worked its way to her lips as she thought over the this supposed deal.

She belonged to nobody and the Gylcryn was hers. She was it's captain and the title would not be relinquished with such ease, but she was running out of time. At this point, she would need help to even remove the glass and stitch up the wound. Her hands were shaking too much to make threading a needle possible. Trusting him was out of the question, but she didn't have to trust him to use him.

"You want to fly? Fine," she said, with a sigh, "If you help me stitch this up. I will show you how to get anywhere you want to go. I may even have enough supplies to help with that little bullet wound I left in your back."
 
Her answer took seemingly forever and he started to feel impatient. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other he breathed in deeply. The shoulder had been aching steadily for some time. Any moment the rest would be coming to the ship and he was anxious to claim her and the ship at the same time. If she would just agree he could claim to take her captive which already made her his and then he could fight anyone of senior status that tried to lay claim to the ship. It was all a process and he was fairly sure that he would win the fight.

Finally the answer came and he smiled broadly though he was still behind a wall with her on the other end. "Drop da gun. Come ere." She was seemingly taking forever to even answer the simple request. Cautiously he peered around the edge of the doorway. "Drop da gun." Even if it wasn't likely that she would kill him by shooting him again, it still hurt.

He wanted her to drop her pistol? Then again, she had shot him and the blood dropping to the diamond plate floor reminded her she didn't have much choice. With another sigh, she removed the clip and tossed the ammo to one side of the corridor before sliding the gun to the other end. Now at least, he wouldn't be able to use her own weapon against her.

"Gun is dropped, but the medical supplies are with me in the bulk head," she replied, still remaining defensive, "You can come in here."

The woman obeyed in part and then demanded that he come to her. Grumbling under his breath he saw her reason since it seemed she wouldn't have the strength to step down into the cockpit. Most of what she said hadn't made much sense after that. He understood the part about medical supplies being with her, but the rest was rather cryptic. They were not words that he'd heard before.

Stepping in front of the woman he put his gun away and slid the dagger back into its place on his belt. Frowning at her he stared intently at her body. "Yah ave medical en bulk ead?" There wasn't enough on her to indicate she had any medical supplies on her person.

She was crouching slightly, holding her side as he walked over and put away his weapons. Her sharp, grey eyes were staring back at him, with an expression to match his and sweat beaded on her pale forehead. Did he not understand? "Medical supplies...are...there," she said, pointing with a bloodied hand to the over-head compartment at the end of the corridor, "On the top shelf....in a metal box..."

Eyebrows raising slightly he stared at the little shelf that was barely considered up. It wasn't terribly high. Carefully he made his way over to the compartment and pulled it open. Taking the metal box out he peered deeply into the compartment just to be sure that there wasn't anything else in there. Could have been something small he wanted, but there wasn't anything else. Glancing up at the woman he frowned again and then marched back over to where she was. Thrusting the box into her arms he watched. She wanted it to heal her and inside it was a different sort of medicine that he had not seen yet. What they had was very different.

Her hands seemed to shake and she was unsteady at best. "Mmm." Nodding his head he watched for a moment longer. "Yah very weak." He'd barely finished his sentence when a shadow appeared in the doorway and he yelled to them in his own language. She surrendered to him and that meant she was his. All he wanted was her to teach him how to fly. This was the chance to fly and he wasn't about to let it pass him up.
 
Having the medical box shoved into her arms caused the glass shift and she let out a yelp, before shooting the man a hard look. The man was tall, much taller than most men Kaereal. The idea that there were more of them waiting outside the door made her mouth go dry, and her heart pound in her ears. There was no way she could take him in a straight fight, or anyone else, being wounded like this. She fought a rising panic and shook her head, trying to calm down.
One problem at a time. Wound first. Hostiles second.
Pushing everything else out of her mind for a moment, she focused on the task at hand, and unzipped her jumpsuit to reveal a plain tank top and shorts underneath before opening the medical box. Inside, there was the standard gauze, antiseptic, bandages, pain killers, needle and thread and even some medicines that could induce sleep. She snatched up the needle and thread, knowing it would be impossible to start it after she removed the glass. Her hands shook and she she missed the eye of the needle over and over, until finally she got lucky.
Now for the hard part.

She made sure the antiseptic was within reach and then clutched at the glass shard. "One...two..."
With a hard jerk, she pulled it free with a yell, slinging dots of her blood over the floor. As soon as it left her side, more blood gushed and the pain made her slump over. Dancing black spots crowded her vision and she reached out for the bottle, but could make her arm move. Looking up to the man's tan face, she mumbled something even she couldn't understand, and the hit the metal floor, totally unconscious.

 
His prisoner was moving at a frantic pace and it seemed the harder she tried the more she shook. Since she hadn't asked for any help he was going to let her be. As the others stepped on board he could hear the ransacking begin. They were currently of more interest and he turned his head to see what they each wanted from the ship. A sudden sound like she was shifting about broke into his world and he glanced at the woman who was looking even more pale than before.

Whatever she spoke he understand, but he took it to be a plea for help since she was still bleeding and was now passed out on the floor. "The ship is mine. Remember I lay claim to it." Calling to the others in his language again he then scooped the woman up and carried her out of the ship. Sand sifted under the edge of her shirt and began to cake to the wound. There was already an obvious sticky layer of mud gathering along the side of her face where she had been sweating. Taking her into the stone hut he laid her down on his mat and started to pull her shirt off so he could see the wound. She was going about healing herself all wrong.

"Eh." Her side was a mess and it was something he had to admit would even hurt him. Probably quite a bit more than the shoulder. Grabbing the wash bucket he peered at the water inside and dunked the rag in it. The water than ran off the rag was mostly clear. It was difficult to get good water in the desert. Rinsing her abdomen with the rag and water he then wiped the rest of the mud off with a clean rag from the shelf.

Getting up from her side he wandered over to the other corner of his hut and collected a few jars. Pulling out some of the desert mint he bruised the leaves and threw them into a small sitting on the window sill. It stayed hot and anything thrown into it was usually cooked shortly. Bruising a few other herbs he tossed them into the cup and then stirred it with his pinkie finger. "Ah!" It was a little hot, but you needed that to make a decent poultice. Taking the cup from the window he set it on the stone table to cool slightly while he grabbed a strip of clean cloth and poured the contents of the cup onto the cloth and then smeared it around. Should be enough to ensure that the would would be clean and then he could wrap her side tightly to ensure that the bleeding would be minimal.

When he was finished with the process the man sat a short distance away from his bed mat and watched the others rush about outside looting whatever was left of interest. So far no one had challenged him for the ship and that was good news. When she woke up he could have her begin teaching him how to fly and if there were any repairs he was sure he could do it without too much trouble. All he needed was a little instruction from the woman.

Night was coming and she still hadn't woke up. Finally he lost patience and he knelt by her side. Staring at her face for a long moment he determined that she wasn't anywhere near waking up. So it was best to wake her up then. "Aye." Pushing on her shoulder he grimaced. His own was still sore and he couldn't very well reach it. "Yah wake now."
 
A man's voice and a pressure on her shoulder dragged her mind out of the blackness. Groaning, she nudged the hand away from her a little. What happened? All she could recall was green eyes and the sound of her own numb body hitting the metal floor of the ship. The ship! Her eyes opened and she was met by the same set of eyes, framed by a tan face and curly dark hair.
Her eyes roved around the room wildly, looking for anything familiar. She was not on the Gylcryn any more. She was in some sort of stone hut lying on her back with no memory of having been brought there. This must be his home? The air was blessedly cooler here and smelled of herbs, clearing out the tinny smell of her own blood. Goosebumps raised over her skin and jt was then she realized her shirt was missing, but being bare wasn't her concern. With shaking hands, she felt at her wounded side, and found it bandaged. The spot was still very painful, but not as bad as it had been. He had stayed true to his word, at least so far.

"You... helped...thank you..." she croaked, trying to make her dry throat work, "Where... is my ship?"
 
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Sitting back on his heels he waited for her to settle down. This woman was far too jumpy and it made him feel uneasy. It seemed the panic gradually wore off and he met her gaze. "Ah help, yah teach meh ta fly." Pausing he let out breath and then pushed her over in the bed. "Later, naw we rest." Personal space had never been a concern and he didn't like he idea of sleeping on the floor. The mat was slightly more comfortable and it provided some barrier between himself and the sand.

The man rolled on his side and put his back to her. Though he intended to get some sleep he was still wary. There was a chance she would prove to be difficult. If he were in this situation he would try to run when the captor fell asleep and that was doubtless what she intended to do. Only other possible outcome was that she would try to kill him. None of those options sounded all that marvelous so he determined to remain as alert as possible while he tried to get a little rest before the morning. Then he could fly and that would change everything.

Simply flying meant so much that he had always thought about and now new ideas were coming to mind. In the past he thought that he would fly to make more successful raids on neighboring clans and now it was maybe worth discovering another planet. He knew enough of the trader's language to start some trading of his own and see what the life of a merchant was like. Just the thought made him chuckle. There was no way he was going to make it as a merchant. No one would take his kind as a merchant. It was far more likely that he would turn into a pirate or smuggler of sorts. Besides that held far more appeal for a great deal of reasons. Probably the primary reason that was appealing was simply because he would be allowed to operate under less rules and he could trade with whoever he wanted and depending on how hard it was to procure something he could drive up the cost or sell the the highest bidder. If selling goods was about making money then he didn't know why merchants wouldn't sell to certain men.
 
The unceremonious shove and sudden company in the bed made her almost want to run right then and there. She was glad when that seemed to be the end of his interest and he laid down with his back to her. If he fell asleep, she would make a run for it. Fatigue from blood loss still gripped her, but wouldn't let that keep her from finding the Gylcryn.

Without protest, she laid beside him on her back mostly because curling to the side hurt. Not to mention his large frame took up most of the space and if she gave up any of her own there would be no getting it back.
The sound of the dry wind whistled through the cracks in the stone walls around her accompanied by the whispering of shifting sands.
"If we're going to share a bed, would it be too much to ask for your name?" She asked in a wry tone.
 
After a good chuckle at some of his ideas he decided to try and get more comfortable. Scooting in a bit further onto the mat he felt himself bump into the female. She had been sure to take up as much space as possible and that was slightly annoying. Then again if he stayed close he would know if she tried to get away or not. Taking a deep breath he shifted a little more to try and get comfortable. Instead he found himself feeling increasingly uneasy with this woman laying next to him. There wasn't anything in immediate reach, but if he fell asleep and she managed to slip out...

While he was busy thinking of ways to prevent her from causing trouble she interrupted the highly important thoughts. "Eh?" She wanted his name and he got the idea it wasn't because she liked him so much. It was easy to tell if a woman liked you and so far she didn't give that impression. "Illya." Grunting the name he kept his back to her.

An equally mischievous grin came to his face. "I dun need yah name. Already know et. Woman." Snickering to himself he nearly shook with each new round. There was no need to look at her. Even if she hadn't intended to tell him her name he was sure that calling her woman would eventually get to her and she would volunteer the information. After he'd finished his laugh he grunted at her again. "Sleep." Having to use the trader's language was a difficult thing and talking in it so much was almost making his jaw hurt. All of it felt entirely different to form the words. New languages were not something he excelled at and neither were many other subjects. There were a few he was excelled in and that was about it. Perhaps it was because they were the only subjects that were of interest while the rest were hardly worth the effort.

Part way through the night he felt a bit of shifting and then his shoulder lit on fire with a surge of pain. "Agh." Sitting up in the bed he glowered at the innocent looking female. "Move." Pusing her onto her good side he laid down so that she would be on her side and he scooted in further so that he was close enough for his plan. She could only lay on her good side so that meant the arm he pulled around his waist and held in place was on the same side as her injury. She wouldn't be pulling around too much. Her hand rested in his and her arm was mashed between his side and much larger arm. "Yah stay very close. Nah more trouble eh?"
 
Illya.
Ill-mannered
more like. she thought ruefully. The wind outside continued to graze the hut with cold air and sand as she tuned in to her surroundings. Was this entire planet a desert? How can a place be so miserably hot one moment and wretchedly cold the next? It was nothing like the usually tepid climate of her home continent on Kaereal. A chill swept over her and she tried to cross her arms to escape the bumps crawling down her bare arms, accidentally nudging Illya in the back with her elbow. She froze, hoping the contact didn't wake him, but her heart sank a little as he grumbled and turned over to her. He pushed her to her uninjured side and then snatched up her hand, capturing it firmly around his waist.

"Yah stay very close. Nah more trouble eh?"

She jerked at her hand which only resulted in a sharp pain running down her side. "Damnit," she hissed and she clamped her eyes against the stinging, "There would be no trouble if you would let me go."

Escaping the grasp on her hand wasn't going to be possible. He outmatched her in size and strength, which was evident by his heavy arm and hand pinning hers.The position was uncomfortable and made her side ache with a dull throbbing. The man had also managed park himself on the ends of her long pony tail, trapping her further. Her nose was nearly touching his shoulder, but at least his bulky frame provided some sort of warmth against the cold air.

The wicked thought of smacking him squarely in the bullet hole in his shoulder crossed her mind. It would serve him right for tossing her around like some sort of rag doll, and for the Woman...comment. Hitting him would only make him angry though, and he would be a tough opponent even if she was in peak condition. No, she would wait now. Wait until the right moment. He would not need her name in that moment either. Illya would be addressing her by the proper title soon. Captain.

A little smile crept its way to her lips and she dropped her head to the mat, to letting sleep sink in.
 
As soon as he had secured the woman she tried to free her hand. It wasn't an unanticipated move and he rolled his eyes. If she was going to be doing that all night long... Thankfully it was only a brief struggle which obviously caused her some pain. That was a good thing and he had hoped it would work this way. All of it was providing she didn't try something else stupid.

Sleeping was far less than comfortable that night. Illya could barely get a few hours at a time before his shoulder would begin to ache and having to hold onto her hand firmly was uncomfortable whenever she would pull or try to adjust. Not to mention she took the order to stay close far too seriously and practically had her nose stuck between his shoulder blades. It was always possible she chose to get that close just to annoy him and take things to an extreme. This woman was playing a different sort of game and he didn't trust her. Releasing her hand he sat up to stretch so he wouldn't hit her, but it seemed that she might have thought to sit up too when he felt the back of his arm hit into something. Glancing at her with a disapproving look he shook his head and got up.

"Yah come." First order of the day was going to be having someone patch him up. There was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn't be trouble if he had her help so instead he was going to have to find some way for her to pay. She had to learn you didn't shoot or harm without consequence. Standing in the doorway he noted a reluctance or very slow motion. With a growl he grabbed one hand pulled. "Come."

The two of them arrived at another small hut and Illya beat on the door. When a woman answered the door he motioned to his prisoner and his shoulder a few times while he spoke to the other in his own language. It was best to conduct business in his own tongue when he could. Besides the fact that the doctor knew even less of the trader's language the old woman preferred not to hear it if possible. With a nod she welcomed both of them inside and Illya motioned for the woman to sit. A familiar scent of herbs and the pungent presence of the tea seemingly permeated even the stones of this house. Illya accepted a cup of tea and the physician walked around the woman and examined her for a moment before grabbing her ponytail and gently brushing the hair. It was beautiful hair and a thick black color. Black was the color the doctor preferred and she carefully pulled the woman's hair into another loose ponytail before suddenly chopping it off.

Noticing the look from 'woman' Illya shrugged his one good shoulder. "Yah dah dis. Yah pay ta fex et. She like yah hair." Calmly he remained seated while the old woman prepared a few herbs. The man only winced when she began digging in the wound to retrieve the bullet. Near the end of the digging he tried to look over his shoulder at the woman and she elbowed him in the head with a firm order not to look.
 
She glared at Illya with a murderous stare. He had impatiently pulled her from his hut while she was looking for her shirt, lead her through the camp in only her bra and shorts, and now had used her hair as some sort of payment. Her hand felt around at choppy hair cut she had just received. Her long hair had been sheared up to an inch past the base of her head.
The urged to curl her shaking fist up and strike him across his jaw was growing with every second as the physician began removing the bullet. She stayed silent though. Any words that came out of her mouth would be fighting words and now was not the time. There would be a time though and soon. Once he took her to the ship she would teach him how to fly alright. Crossing her arms she watched the older woman take out the bullet and drop it on a table nearby before soaking a clean rag with herb-infused water and cleaning the wound thoroughly.
He grunted a bit when the healer wrapped a tight bandage from his shoulder and under his opposite arm. The hair-stealing woman wasn't exactly the most gentle physicians and when the operation was complete they were shooed out of the hut to make way for another visitor standing outside the door.
As soon as they were outside, she wheeled around and looked up at the tall man with anger flashing in her grey eyes. He may have been a foot taller than she was, but at the moment she could care less.

"Let me make some things perfectly clear," she snapped, "As far as I'm concerned, you got yourself shot when you boarded my vessel. I am not a bargaining chip and I am not chattel to be bartered. The next time you want something from me, maybe you should take the time to ask."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her short black hair catching in the hot breeze.
 
Belen was about as gentle as every other time. The doctor was never one to use a delicate hand unless it was required or a bone was broken. Everything else was considered a simple cure that the people could have cared for themselves. He just happened to be unfortunate enough that he couldn't reach the wound and it was sore. When they were done Illya stepped out the door with the female that he had acquired. Instead of being able to start work right away the woman was yapping up at him.

Staring down into her face he blinked a few times. Her voice had raised to a shrill level, lips curled back in anger, and her face contorted to display her entire attitude. A bit of breeze caught the back of her hair making her look like her hackles were raised. Overall the entire scene reminded him very much of a little dog. "Eh..." As soon as she'd finished she was marching off. There wasn't even a chance to respond to her. One way or another she was going to learn that things were perhaps different here than they were at home and whatever her problem was he didn't know.

There wasn't anywhere for the woman to go so he watched her with a slightly amused grin. Obviously she didn't know how to live here and in the long run it would make his dealings with her easier. Eventually she came to a stop and he wandered over to join her. "Yah shot meh, yah pay." Illya stated himself in a matter of fact tone. "Yah mine and yah ave naughting. Mebbe yah like ta give yah clothes away?" For the first time since last night he noticed she didn't have her shirt and he stared at her for a moment. Raising one eyebrow he let out a breath and stared across the sand for a moment. It was her choice to wear clothing or not. Didn't know why she wouldn't have put her shirt back on when they left the hut this morning. That wasn't his problem though.

"We work naw." Grabbing one of her hands he started back with her toward the ship. The outside of it had been left in pristine condition. Inside the door of the ship it was obvious the cabinets had been emptied of rations and anything else that could be pried from the ship without too much trouble. "We fex et eh?"
 
In one ear and out the other.
She could tell by his expression nothing she said was going to have an any bearing on what he did. She would just start not bothering to speak to him unless absolutely necessary. The air in the day time here was stiflingly hot and even the breezes felt like furnace blasts under the glaring sun. The pale skin on her shoulders and cheeks were growing hot, burning in the harsh desert sunlight, but she ignored it. He had grabbed her hand up again and started leading her to the ship. His hand was large enough to engulf hers and they were rough. It was obvious he had lived in these harsh conditions his entire life and knew how to survive here. She would have to rely on that depending on how long it took to repair the Gylcryn, if it could be repaired at all. The thought that the ship could be unsalvageable made her stomach flip. Spending the rest of her life in this forsaken place was not a future she wanted to think about. As they walked though the village of stone huts as people went about their day. Some of the passing natives gave her strange looks with brows raises in accusing, awkward or amused expressions. She vaguely wondered if this was more to do with her lack of clothing and hacked off hair than with her being an alien.

When they arrived at her ship, the grey and white hull looked undamaged save for a charred scar near the nose left over from the attack. She went inside to see that the cabinets and lockers had been picked clean. Rations were gone, the few weapons available, the medical kit and all of her belongings had been carried off. Even the tool kit was gone, which would prove to be a problem.

She went into her quarters and crawled under the bolted bed. The movement was causing her side to give shooting pains and she could feel the wound open just a little. With a growl, she pulled up the grate under the bed and was pleased to discover the thieves had not found her go-bag. She pulled out the large grey duffle bag and shimmied from under the bed, before tossing the duffle on top. Inside she found a fresh set of clothes, a smaller medical kit, a few rations and another handy object she would leave there out of sight.

Illya had followed her to the doorway of her quarters and was standing there with an expectant face. "You could turn around," she suggested as she started peeling the rest of the disgusting jumpsuit off. She was done caring what he would see or wouldn't, but it never hurt to ask.

She peeled off the rest of her clothes and donned the fresh ones. Pants tucked into her boots, a white t-shirt, and a grey cargo jacket would do well enough in the heat. At least they would keep the sun off of her, though a hat would've been nice as well. She made a mental note to include one in the next go-bag she put together. Finishing up, she left the rations and medical kit out on the bed and tossed the empty bag to its hiding spot under the bed.

"Now we work," she said brusquely to Illya as she brushed past him headed to the cockpit. Taking stock of the repairs needed, she formed a list in her mind as she spoke aloud in the traders-tongue to him. If he understood, good. If not, she would do the repairs alone.

"The navigation panel will need to be rerouted. That hatch needs to be fixed to seal off the cabin. I also need to check on the solar-drive, luckily there's no short supply of fuel for that around here. I will also have to address the weapons situation...."

She turned to Illya and looked him in the eye. "If you want the Gylcryn to fly, I need my tool kit. It's gone and repairs are impossible without it."
 
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