Junebug slept. Like all veterans she had the knack of sleeping whenever and wherever no matter how dire the circumstances. Like many veterans though, that sleep was easily disturbed and so when an unfamiliar hand shook her shoulder she was awake and grasping her assailant by the throat before her concious mind had a chance to weigh in on the matter. She felt greasy skin beneath her grip and could feel the catlige of the wind pipe begining to deform beneath her grip. Dimly she was aware of someone calling her name and the sounds summoned her back to the present moment. She was standing in the large hut they had retired to with a terrified woman, perhaps thirty cycles old grasping desperately at her hand. Embarassed and disgusted she let the woman go. The native immediately fell into an attitude of prostration.

"Uhh... you ok Captain?" asked a concerned sounding Neil. She was breathing hard and adrenaline burned through her prickling her skin like insect bites. With studied deliberation she forced herself to calm down.

"Sure... sure, just startled me is all," she muttered before reaching down to help the trembling Indig to her feet.

"Sorry," Sayeeda said as best she could in the womans language, "Sorry sorry." The girl seemed to understand the words but still seemed petrified. Well of course she bloody was she had just been half strangled while trying to wake someone up.

"Name is call you?" Sayeeda tried.

"Kimbala, Starman," the girl said in a quavering voice. She added some more that was unintelligible to Junebug.

"And what are you doing here Kimbala?" Junebug asked glancing around to Taya and Neil for support but finding none.

"I take you to clean," the woman explained reaching out diffidently to grab Sayeeda's hand. She shrugged helplessly to her companions and let herself be lead away.

The woman, Kimbala, took her behind the village to where a series of pools fed by springs bubbled energetically. With slow gestures she communicated that Junebug should get in. Stripping off her clothes she slipped into the water and to her surprise found the water to be hot, just short of scalding. Well of course they were volcano worshipers afterall, it stood to reason they would have volcanic springs. Trying hard not to think of the stories she had heard of springs suddenly sublimating to steam as magma shifted below Junebug submerged herself to the neck. It felt surprisingly good and the slickness of the cryo liquid, unnoticed except for its absence, sluiced away. The Indig girl splashed in behind her and began to rub her with some sort of coarse soap. It was harsh to senses but she allowed it to happen. Next her short hair was washed and methodically combed with a bone brush. It seemed a waste of effort to Sayeeda but it must have been some sort of ritual because the girl kept up a musical liquid chant while she did so.

Once the bathing was completed Junebug was lead from the spring by the gentle but insistent tug of Kimbala's hand. She began to rerobe immediately but the girl stopped her with surprising determination.

"Well I'm not going to bloody well go back naked," Sayeeda muttered in exasperation. In answer the girl produced a long grass skirt bejeweled with some sort of opalescent shell. Refusing to give in completely Junebug pulled on her underwear and bra before donning the thing. Next the girl produced a cloak of sky blue feathers and draped it over Sayeeda's shoulders providing more decency than she had with the airsuit tied around her waist. Finally the girl began to tie leather straps around her foot, continuing at length until they were encircled by intricate but serviceable swathes of the pale brown material.

"Kimbala what is all this for?" she asked bemused. The girl smiled a dazzlingly white smile.

"Games."

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