Junebug watched the sport intently, making certain to keep a bemused smile on her face despite the barbarity. You could never tell what sort of savagery Indigs would go in for but the casual violence and death didn't bode well for the three travelers remaining long term. She needed to get some men and get back to the Highlander so they could get started on the construction of the dam, being out of contact with the ship this long was already beginning to make her nervous. They needed to get some sort of radio relay, perhaps the gun jeep itself and...

It took a moment for her to realize that Neil was speaking to her. Hastily she exchanged a few words with Wetumpkah who in turn turned to his attractive... slave? Assistant? Acolyte and babbled at her. The girl rushed of swaying her hips distractingly. Sayeeda watched her go with a frown and caught Wetumpkah cast a suspicious glance at Neil. A moment later she returned with an odd item of silvery metal. To her shock it had the same strange octoganal construction as the Ancient bunker and other ancient devices they had seen when rescuing/abducting Drake. The girl lay it before Neil all but batting her eyes at the pilot. This time Sayeeda definitely heard the shaman growl in quiet anger.

"Is that an Ancient artifact?" Taya piped up drawn from her frighted stupor by the presence of such an oddity. Junebug conferred in broken Zil with Wetumpkah, he was easier to talk to than the other natives by an order of magnitude due to his limited proficiency in Imperial.

"He says that it has been passed down for many generations, that it once bestrode the sky as a mighty hunter." As she spoke a cheer went up as one of the thrower bulls-eyed the target. A sudden hush drew her attention as a group of perhaps fifty men emerged from the treeline. They made no effort to conceal themselves but their tatoos differed significantly from what Sayeeda had come to think of as 'the locals'.

"The Itzucannu," Wetumpkah explained between dark glances at Neil, "We sent word to the tribes living far far that starman come to our village, they want to make honor."

"I see," Sayeeda said, keeping her tone happy but inwardly wondering how many such groups of armed tribesmen were currently making their way towards the field of low Zigurats.

@POOHEAD189

"Well this isn't the answer to my question but...it's certainly not unwelcome." He said, allowing the item to be bestowed upon him, feeling a terrible itching on his Xenos engraved palm, before it was suddenly silenced when he felt the item on his skin. Odd that this thing was still effecting him even after years of being in stasis from when it was burned onto his body on their first mission. What wasn't odd was just how difficult it was not to stare into the pretty eyes of the native woman. He did nearly gape at her swaying hips as she had gone. The last few months, and years in the stasis chamber had been...very dry.

"I can already tell this is going to be a problem." He said to himself, too softly for anyone to hear. Whats worse, he realized he would have a very difficult time controlling his urges if there was even the slightest hint he could get away with it with his life. No! No you idiot. Think of this...beautiful suicidal girl. She might be killed along with you. Will your dick be responsible for that? He cleared his throat and decided to feel his new gift.

Suddenly Neil stood, and gave a bow to Wetumpkah at the gift. "You honor me. If it pleases the Rakeeri, I would offer myself in the great games as well. To honor the Gods and show the skill of the Starmen." He offered. Neil knew it was a dangerous proposition, but he doubted they would execute Starmen as casually as they would others, and he was a very nimble and roguishly talented young man. He felt if the contests were merely throwing balls and showing off talents of dexterity, he would win no problem. Plus, it would keep his roving eye away from the buxom beauty.

"No! Neil..." Taya began, but Wetumpkah interrupted her with a wail of enthusiasm, clearly thinking along the same lines as Neil. That, or it was indeed a great honor to the Rakeeri. "You will be rewarded a statue of the sun if you are victorious. Yes yes, go and play the Radafiri!" He cried, calling for the guards to escort him down. Neil wasn't entirely sure what the Radafiri would be, but he wasn't too worried.

"Would you join him?" Wetumpkah asked Junebug, just as a naked courier stopped behind him, breathing heavily. Brown skin glazed with sweat, a rounded gut belying his strong legs. He announced the other tribes were within a mile of the city.
@Penny

Junebug’s smile could have cut glass. Careful to keep her teeth from grinding she rose to her feet.

“I would be honored,” she said evenly. By the look of worry in the Shaman’s eye she hadn’t been completely successful but that was alright. The cheering of the crowd rose as she followed Neil down the rough hewn stone steps towards the game field. She dearly hoped that the natives weren’t going to kill Niel, she wanted to do that herself. What had the man been thinking. On an instinct she looked over her shoulder and caught a glance of the Shaman’s pretty assistant beaming down at Neil’s back.

“Bleeding bloody stars,” she cursed although it was too quiet to carry over the crowd. Was their a man in the universe who wasn’t lead around by his prick? Not that the bloody fool of a girl was doing any better. They reached the ground before the zigurat and a score of large natives trotted out onto the field, each carrying a length of wood about five feet in length and half the thickness of a mans wrist, as well as a flat wooden shield that had been lacquered to a shinewith some sort of native resin. Above them Wetumpkah stood and bellowed loudly enough to be heard over the crowd. Two of the players peeled off and trotted towards Sayeeda and the pilot, offering them the shield and stick. Wordlessly Junebug took the gear and, dicovering the shield had a pair of leather straps on the back, slipped her hand through to clasp it to her forearm. Both items were light but solid.

“If you have any insight on how Radafiri is played, now is the time,” she commented acidly. Neil turned to look at her.

“I..uhhh..” he began.

“That is more or less what I thought,” she sighed. The group was splitting up into two distinct teams. A pair of hoops each painted the dirty orange of rock pigment was placed at each end of the sixty meter strip of cobblestones and the men, they were all men, took up positions along either end. Junebug went with her ‘team’ and stood in the loose line. As the did so a small child, no more than six trotted onto the field with a leather ball beneath its arms. Nervously they tossed it to the floor and scampered away. As one all the players tilted back their heads and yelled an odd undulating war cry. As if by some signal they cut of and lurched towards the ball at full speed, shields and sticks raised.

@POOHEAD189

Well, Neil had originally had the idea that the Shaman would understand that he was from Gods damned outer space and that they might give them some kind of inkling on what this sport was, but oh well. Improvising was something he did best, though he wasn't certain why Junebug joined him and yet wanted to kill him at the same time. It was supposed to be just his life on the line! (Or his chance to get a gilded reward).

Either way, Radifiri seemed simple enough. Knock the ball into the painted holes and try to get around the team, or at least that was what the formations seemed to tell him. Neil dropped his shield on the onset, certain the item would just slow him down. Why were those tribal men using them anyway? It was just a ball after all.

The 'teams' clashed, Neil and Junebug in the center of their line, therefore closest to the ball. Neil heard the clack of bone and wood colliding, and the screams of two of them men, but he was so intent on the ball he did not notice what was occurring around him. He managed to get his club around the ball and he shoved the ball closer to his feet before the other team got to it. He did so, so he would have a better chance controlling the ball. It was by sheer dumb luck he looked up and saw a club swinging for his head.

He ducked just in time, the wind of the missed blow ruffling his tousled hair. "What in the hell!?" he exclaimed, clearly not understanding until now that this was a blood sport. Suddenly the shields made a ridiculous amount of sense, and Neil kicked the shins of the warrior that had attempted to brain him. The tribesman grunted and was distracted for a second long enough for Neil to backpedal with the ball, nearly juggling it with his club before he saw Sayeeda had moved forward.

"Good thing I've played some skyball," he deadpanned to himself, referring to his home planet's pastime game where one was meant to keep the ball off the ground for added points. He knocked the ball up, and then knocked it again, sending it soaring over the head of the tribesman toward's Sayeeda's position. Neil was just in time to swing his club up to block a blow, and he fought for his life as the ball flew wide.
@Penny

"Glad to hear it," Junebug called over the clatter of colliding players, ducking a swipe of a stick and sliding away from a tackle with an evasive twist of her lean body.

In a physical confrontation, be it sport, fighting, or a combination of the two as Radifiri seemed to be, the most important factors were physical size and strength. Junebug like a lot of female mercs had realized early on that she was at a disadvantage in both categories against the majority of opponents she was likely to face. There wasn't a native on the field that didn't have her by at least fifty pounds and the kind of strength that harsh primitive living imbued was no joke. The trick to surviving with such a disadvantage was to learn to fight dirty and never pass up an opportunity to put the boot in. The ball arced towards her but rather than focusing on it she leapt at her opponent, swinging the bottom edge of the shield at his face like a sword blade. It clattered from his shield with a force that rattled her teeth but rather than drawing back she surged closer driving a knee into her opponents crotch. With an inarticulate grunt he doubled over and she bought her other knee up into the point of his chin sending him sprawling to the floor.

In the academy all officer candidates had been required to play team sports as part of the curriculum. The process was a tried and tested method of making the cadets think as part of a team. Junebug like most cadets destined for the armored and played Kipsi. The game was played in micro-gravity with a small but heavy ball about the size of a grapefruit. The micro-gravity didn't allow true weightlessness but combined with very very smooth pitches made it difficult to bleed of momentum. You could pick up speed by running and bleed it off by dragging your feet, but it was many times more efficient to control your momentum of collection of poles which moved randomly across the pitch. Junebug had found that crashing into members of the opposing team to be doubly effective as any player who touched the side walls of the Kipsi chamber fell into a regular gravity zone and had to run back to the entry point for his team. Unfortunately while Kipsi was excellent preparation for controlling an air-cushioned vehicle, it was of limited utility here.

With a flick of her... staff? club? she directed the ball towards another member of what she hoped was her team, raising her shield to deflect the frenzied blow of an on rushing brute with a matted beard and teeth stained red with some sort of vegetable matter. She allowed the blow to turn her and twisted around the onrushing native, driving her elbow hard into his kidney as he stumbled past. Stars this was murderous a half dozen of the natives already showed bloodied noses or pressure cuts. It seemed to be poor form to hit a player while he was down, so she made an effort to make such blows appear accidental. The crowd was roaring as one of their team members kicked the ball at the basket, the hasty shot bouncing from the rim to the hoots and jeers of the opposition.

"Going to be kind of hard to run plays when we can't speak the language!" she called to Neil as they raced back towards their own baskets.

@POOHEAD189

Neil had managed to outmaneuver the one gunning for him, flanking his own team and dancing around the swinging clubs. He tried to get to his dropped shield, but it was too far across the field for him to make it to it just yet. "Yeah that does pose a problem," he replied as nonchalantly as he could to Sayeeda when he formed up with her again. Thankfully they had gotten the point with their quick thinking. A few of the others had noticed it too. One of the tribesman approached, and Neil held his club up defensively before he realized this one was on their team.

He attempted to speak to them, clicking his tongue and pointing his fingers. "Oh, cool." he sighed. At least this one wasn't ignorant there might be a language gap. From what Neil could gather, he and the other would head for the middle while Sayeeda was instrumental with going round the enemy team...probably. Neil gestured to himself, as if to say 'no shield' but the tribesman was already moving. Sighing, Neil headed off with him, straight into seeing the first death on the field. It was a man on their team who had been unlucky enough to be struck in the temple. Blood spittled out of his mouth and ears as he fell heavily onto the dirt.

"Ew," Neil stated, though he did his best to take advantage of the sudden pause from the death and furiously attack the one who killed him, swiping and thrusting his club instrument. The tribal player blocked with his shield, and then raised his own club to come crashing down on Neil. The Pilot instinctively thrust his hand out to catch the shaft, but no blow came. He saw the enemy tribesman gawking at his hand, and it was at that moment Neil realized the man saw the Xenos symbol that had been engraved on it.

Neil unceremoniously thwacked the guy on the head, knocking him out cold.

"And who said tattoos were poor choices?" the pilot quipped.

A garbled cry in the foreign language brought his attention to the ball suddenly flying over them like a freighter slingshotting around a moon. Neil leaped and knocked it, though it went wide and soared onto one of their foes's shields. Bouncing to the ground. Luckily, Junebug was close by. Neil cried out with his best tribal cry and sprang forward, trying to use his hand as a distraction do the warrior didn't knock the ball away before she could get to it.

Above them, the crowds cheered and hooted. The sun was at its zenith in the sky, and the onlookers began a strange, archaic song.
@Penny

Dashing the last few meters to the ball Junebug aimed a kick towards the basket. Before she could land it one of the enemy players smashed into her from the side sending her sprawling across the cobblestones. The world stuttered for a moment but she rolled to her feet in time to see the opponent racing down the field towards the basket. One of her team mates leaped onto the man's back bearing him down in a flurry of swinging fist and lashing feet. Pushing herself up she retrieved her staff in time to see another of her team kick the ball towards her in a long arc.

The song of the locals began to swell as the ball bounced before her. She swung her shield at it like a bat hammering it down field towards the basket. Howling with anger or excitement a massive man rushed at her. She thrust her staff like a spear into the fellows stomach setting her whole body against the weight. Even from a few feet away she heard the air rush from his lungs as the point took him beneath the sternum and he twisted sideways vomiting messily.

At the other end of the field a ruck had formed around the ball, which evidently had not gone in where locals clubed and kicked at each other in frantic excitement. Cursing under her breath Junebug saw Neil leap into the fray. Rushing down the field she drew her shield up in front of her intending to smash into the ruck, but quite suddenly the ball shot from the fracas and into the basket like a pit shooting from a namas fruit. They crowed roared and a bass gong sounded somewhere up on the zigguurat. As though someone had flicked a light switch the brawl ceased. The gong sounded again louder and more insistent. Junebug slowed to a cautious walk, uncertain if this was part of the game or if something had gone wrong.

@POOHEAD189

The smell of sweat and blood nearly overpowered Neil's senses in the brawl, and though he was stronger than he looked, the men around him were combat trained and used to intense physical warfare. He felt like he was knocked about a bit too much, and was just lucky enough to not get anything more than a glancing blow as of yet, but that would change sooner rather than later if the ball didn't get free. So using his monkey-like dexterity, instead of attacking the men head on, he decided to duck under the melee and trip the tribesmen up as best he could until he paved a way toward the ball.

"Shit!" He cried when he saw a club aiming for him, and he dived downward. His head had escaped the club only to knock against the ball with a loud 'thunk.' To say he was light headed after the diving strike to his cranium was an understatement, but perhaps the Gods were watching, for the ball shot out and into the goal.

The next thing Neil knew were rough hands grabbing him, dragging his limp body out of the dying quagmire and into the light. The pilot had a welt on his head and a very ill favored, near unconscious look. But he was alive, and the cheers erupted for both he and Sayeeda for their exceptional teamwork. He was too far off to see, but the servant woman was in awe at his Radifiri skills, biting her lip and gazing hungrily. However the celebration was not long lasting, as the men dragging him set him on his rump across the field with what was left of his team and Junebug, and a Shaman with the same manner of dress as Wetumpkah emerged, stalking across the field. His very presence demanded the game end and the tribesmen prostrating with respect.

"Who is that?" Neil asked tiredly, holding his head.

The Shaman stalked up the central stairway of the Ziggarut, followed by three other Shamans in succession. Wetumpkah greeted them in the traditional manner, and quick words were exchanged. Pointing at the mountains, and at Neil and Sayeeda, there were gasps from the accompanying Shamans. Neil would have made a jibe at their popularity, but at the moment he would have rather a plasma gun incinerate his head.
@Penny

Junebug stood beside Neil leaning on her staff. She was keyed up, way too keyed up, and her skin prickled with adrenaline. After years of action her body was struggling to separate the stimuli of games from the stimuli of war. It made her queasy and made her palms itch for a weapon. Sweat glistened on her body despite several attempts to wipe it away with the cloak of feathers she had been given, the material was just not adsorbent enough to do the job.

"Haven't a clue but I don't like the smell of it," she commented glancing around at the locals. Their faces seemed to be mixed between confusion and fear, not a particularly good sign for a celebration. The Shaman were gesticulating at each other now, more agressive now that the traditional forms of greeting had been expended.

"...honor of our...not you..." angry semi intelligent voices sounded in Junebug's ear. Her face blanked to the neutral expression she wore when she was confused before she realised that Taya, still seated by the Wetumpkah had activated her implant and was transmitting the conversation to her.

"I like, really don't like where..." Junebug began as she tried to parse the archaic language but before she could finish the thought Wetumkah shot to his feet and struck one of the other shaman across the face with a full armed blow. The servant girl, apparently taking a moment away from mooning over Neil, screamed as another of the shaman drew a dagger of some sort of black volanic glass from his robes and lunged at Wetumpkah.

"Break! Taya get clear!" Junebug shouted, trusting her military grade radio to squash the girls more ornate but less powerful civilian model. The teir of the Zigguarat was descending into a chaos of flying crockery and flailing fists. Cries of horror and outrage gripped the crowd as half the men rushed towards the base of the pyramid and the other half tried to flee into the low structures of the village. Whether by luck or bad timing a score of warriors trotted from the treeline in full ceremonial war gear. The doubtless had intended to take part in the games but seeing their Shaman under attack rushed towards the villagers, flinging spears and screaming guttural war cries. Junebug hardly had time to pivot and duck behind her shield, covering Neil as well before the flight of missiles plunged down one slamming into her shield with a musical thunk.

"Go go go!" Junebug yelled, tossing aside her staff and plucking the spear from the shield. Both of their weapons were on the top tier with Taya and the stars alone knew whether the girl would think to grab them. Even as she spoke a disorganized group of native warriors with bone swords and rock clubs rushed from the huts to crash into the interlopers. This was going to get really messy.

@POOHEAD189

Neil was covered in dirt, tired, and still extremely woozy from the blow to the head. But he blinked rapidly, doing his best to gather himself up, comically confused at the sudden eruption of violence. He stood up to his full height as another volley of javelins flung above and past his head, seemingly oblivious to the danger. He placed a hand over his eyes as he gazed up at the ziggurat, squinting. "So what's happening?"

He was subsequently yanked by Junebug out of the field as the tribesmen charged through it, clashing against the forces of the other tribesmen. Neil's brow furrowed in confusion, before Sayeeda screaming for him to get in shape somehow brought a tingling from his palm, which somehow jolted his system and brought him back to focus. He parted from her and gave a steadying breath. "I uh..." he said, running a hand through his hair. "I can get our weapons and Taya." He told her. "I know how to duck and dodge my way through shit. You watch my back."

With that, the chaos of the warriors and the screaming non combatants on the stands would have daunted most anyone. But the crew of the Highlander were made of sterner stuff. Neil knocked aside a warrior's whose back was turned, and as Junebug finished him off, Neil held his palm up to distract another warrior before he took his javelin and ran him through. It was when they broke through the line that it was a bit less dangerous, though still confusing as all hell.

Neil leaped and vaulted up the stairs, yanking people off balance or out of the way and almost snake-like slipping through the crowd until he made it to the top with Junebug close behind, a few steps down. Wetumpkah had a nasty gash on his forehead, and the other Shamans seemed none the better. One of them was now dead, a dagger in his gut. Neil wasn't a political scientists, but this probably meant war so it was best to get the hell out of here.

"Neil!" Taya called. She was on the ground, her legs scraped as if she had been roughly shoved. Thankfully she wasn't hurt, or worse, kidnapped and violated like he suspected would be a captured woman's fate. He dove around the Shamans, banging his knee but finding his balance and stumbling over to Taya, helping her up. "Where's the guns?" he asked her, and she nodded at the items below the wooden seats the nobility used. Neil grabbed ahold of his pistol and tossed Junebug her sidearm. It was good timing, because he suddenly felt healthy and supple arms cling to him, and the assistant woman was probably begging him to save her.

"No no, he'll only kill you!" Neil yelled, as slowly as he could (like that would help her understand).

"You!" Wetumpkah cried, pointing at Neil above the brawl. "Starman! She is mine by right!"

"I don't claim anyone!" Neil cried, picking up Taya by sweeping her off her feet, not exactly having the means to keep the buxom assistant away from him as he leaped down the stairs. Somehow the assistant kept up as she made it down there, and Neil was wondering for the first time if she had been mistreated here with Wetumpkah.

Fuck it, not my call. I'm the pilot. Neil shot at a tribesman, the gunfire cracking so loudly a few of the tribesmen cried out in surprise and anguish.
@Penny

Junebug hurled her spear into one of the shaman who was rising with a wicked looking bone kris, the heavy wooden shaft lodging deep in his stomach but failing to kill him instantly. The man fell to the ground screaming and pawing at the shaft as she snatched the thrown sub machine gun from the air. With no time to unhook the shield she clicked the safety off with her thumb and fired one handed into one of the warriors, on whose 'side' she had no idea, hurling him back with a neat hole above his breast bone.

Wetumpkah lunged at her and she leveled her weapon and pulled the trigger by instinct. There was a metallic click and an audible crunch as the weapon misfired. The shaman was fat and even had he been thin would have outweighed Junebug by a considerable margin and the tackle sent her sprawling down the stone steps. By instinct and training she held onto her weapon and managed to curl herself into a ball, transforming a falls worth of broken bones into an equivalent amount of bruises and scrapes. Dizzily, she pushed herself to her feet when she hit the next tier a moment before Wetumpkah could manage the feet.

"We are friends damn it," she shouted at the shaman as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, drawing a long metallic blade from his belt and grinning through his stained teeth at her. He snarled something at her in his own tongue, too rapidly for her to translate it, it seemed to have something to do with regretting not sacrificing Neil to Rakeeri when he had the chance. Sighing she pointed her weapon and pulled the trigger again. It clicked a misfire a second time. Screaming a curse to the goddess she worked the action to eject the stuck round and pulled the trigger again. A third misfire. Wetumpkah rushed her with his knife and she batted him away with her shield, ducking under his arcing knife. The shaman laughed an ugly laugh as he squared off again.

"Rakeeri protects me from your magic starman!" he sneered triumphantly, sneering at the weapon in her hand. Sayeeda flipped the gun in her hand, caught it by the barrel and then smashed it down into the shaman's grinning face. Wetumpkah went down like a sack of carbohydrate mix and Junebug felt teeth crunch under the blow. For good measure, it was never a mistake to put the boot in when you had the advantage, she delivered two more overhand blows into the supine Shaman and then sprang over his mewling body and down the steps.

Below her was a scene of utter chaos. Hundreds of natives were engaged in brutal hand to hand fighting. From her elevated position Junebug could pick out at least three distinct factions, although why there should be so many she could guess. Shields splintered and spears arched in the afternoon light. Here and there fires were springing up and some of the larger groups were gathering into crude phalanx. Sayeeda even saw children, some who must have been under then throwing stones and hurling projectiles from small leather slings.

Neil and the two women he was apparently carrying had reached the bottom step. There were natives all around, though the sound of his pistol firing seemed to have cleared a space around them. She vaulted two wrestling men and raced down the stairs after them.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on," she said as she reached the trio, "But I'm quietly confident that its well after time we got the hell out of here." The well endowed native girl pulled at Neils arm and gestured wildly, spewing forth a liquid stream of the native babble. The woman was clearly have hysterical so Sayeeda tucked her submachine gun into the waist band of her ridiculous cape and grabbed her by both shoulders.

"SLOW. DOWN. BREATHE," she ordered sternly but calmly. The woman continued to babble for a second longer but then her words slowed, her ample chest heaving.

"Know...safe way..noo mubanta," she managed gesturing towards a small stone structure a few dozen meters from the base of the pyramid. Junebug had no idea who or what a mubanta was, but it didn't seem a time for linguistic lessons.

"Great, lead the way!" Junebug yelled, combat trained voice clear even over the cacophony of the clan war or whatever the hell it was. She shoved the girl physically in the direction she indicated. With a hesitant step the girl stumbled across the square and, after making sure they were following, ran into the building. Junebug followed without hesitation, figuring the place was at least defensible if not a fortress. Neil fired his pistol into an onrushing native and dropped Taya, now apparently willing to move under her own power and followed.

The interior of the building was dark and cool and dominated by what looked to be a large stone well, circular and about four feet wide. The girl hopped up onto the wall and slipped over the side with a splash. The three companions exchanged looks ranging from puzzlement to horror and rushed to peer down. The native girl stood knee deep in dark water waving frantically to them and pointing away to the west.

"Its an aqueduct...," Junebug realized, remembering the large stonework she had seen in the hills on the way in.

"They must bring water in from the mountain streams," she explained even as she climbed into the well and dropped with a splash. The water was shockingly cold for a tropical environment but it wasn't as though she hadn't worked up a sweat. Taya splashed down next losing her balance and sprawling in the water, completely submerging for a moment before popping back up gasping. Neil came last and managed to land more gracefully. Now they were of a level Junebug could see the native girl was pointing at a series of stone arches that ran at a slight upward angle, water trickled down and the stone footing looked slick but manageable.

"Guess we are going this way," Sayeeda commented and flicked on the intergral flashlight in her submachine gun. The beam splashed illumination up the aqueducts tunnel.

"At least something on this damned thing is working," she grumbled.

@POOHEAD189

The water was a welcome shock to Neil's senses. It was cold enough to grip him for a moment, but he was also quite hot and realized that was probably why he felt such a contrast in temperature. He was more than glad light filtered through into the first section of the aqueduct, and followed Junebug as her light led the way. Oddly enough, the stone on their feet was well carved. Most of the roads above were made of dirt, but even such a basic structure as this was a very different style of architecture.

"You know when we get out of here, first thing I plan on doing is taking a long ass nap." he said. "Right after a good shower and some nice steak."

He didn't give the impression of complaining, more like daydreaming. Despite how rough the day had been, Neil was nothing if not energetic and upbeat. He remained in the rear to protect Taya, the girl shivering from the cold and probably the dark. Neil placed a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped with a squeak. "Hey, hey it's ok." He chuckled, giving her a wink. "Sorry, I just..." she began, at a loss for words about the last few days. Neil then felt a hand on his shoulder, and it was his turn to jump, only for him to find the fearful beauty gazing at him, her eyes big and dark.

"Just uh...stick close." He said. She obviously understood nothing that he said, but his soothing meaning was caught by her and she did, one hand perpetually tugging at his necklace lightly while he held his gun out. He was attracted to her but Gods, they needed to make it out of here first. He made sure to listen out for any splashes of pursuit, but for once they were lucky. At least in them escaping quietly. However the tunnel was long, and water made trudging a whole lot harder.

The section they stopped at was a...dead end. Sayeeda's gunlight illuminated nothing but stone wall, though on second inspection she saw the pool before the wall had no discernible floor. The woman at Neil's side babbled something incoherent, but after a moment Junebug explained that they had to swim before they made it out. The hesitation of the crew was palpable, and so the woman offered to go first Neil suspected, as she gripped Neil's arm tighter before making her way to the fore and diving in.

Neil shrugged, and told Taya to stay near Junebug's light as they all took a breath and followed a moment later.
@Penny

No soldier liked swiming. It was slow, awkward and there was no cover, plus there was a fair chance that unless you had specialist hardware it wouldn't work. Junebug was no exception but she had gone through rigorous swim PT and at least she didnt have her armor and fifty pounds of gear to contend with. Holding her breath she plunged into the water after the woman diving straight down two or three meters before moving sideways through and opening. Following her guide she kicked off the bottom stiring up a storm of blackish sand before racing upwards and breaking the surface once more. Their guide was grinning with genuine excitment at the stunt and it bought a small smile to Junebugs own lips as she turned her light back to reveal Neil and Taya breaking the water. Brushing wet hair from her eyes she climbed into the ankle deep water of the ledge. To her surprise there was light filtering down from above and a series of handholes was carved into the side of the tunnel. Their guide pointed excitedly.

"Its a filter," Junebug realised as she reached down to scoop some of the sand from her sandal. As she suspected it was a mix of fine white river sand and a dark black substance.

"They must dump charcoal into the pit there to filter it," she mused wondering at the ingenuity of people who it was easy to think of as simple savages.

"Probably how your not so secret admirer knows about it." Taya giggled at the jibe which made Junebug grin, teeth flashing white in the dark. The girl had a right to be scared but if someone could laugh at a time like this there was hope for them. Neil said nothing but she had the impression he was blushing. Lossening her patrol sling she draped her weapon over her shoulder and climbed up the handholes pushing back a small cover of broad leaves that clearly kept the rain and animals mostly at bay.

It was a relief to be out in the open again, something only noticeable with the absence of tension. Junebug wasn't claustraphobic, no tanker was, but confidned spaces were killboxes in her mind and best avoided where possible. The clearing the found themselves in was surrounded by medium sized trees. The area was clearly tended and some sort of legume type crop was trellesed around them. It was nearly nightfall now but judging by the glow from across the low ridge the party was still in full swing back at the city. With a sigh of relief Junebug sank down onto one of the large roots, feeling the cool water begin to evaporate in the tropical heat.

"Captain," Taya said with a ghost of a smile, "You look a bit like a plucked chicken." Junebug regarded herself for a moment, in several places the feathers had come away from her cape exposing the underlying animal skin, giving her a patchy and disreputable look.

"Well so long as Im not a cooked goose I guess I'll count my blessings," she retorted. It was a weak joke but it got a chuckled that helped to release the tension of the past several hours.

"We ought to get going back towards the Highlander," she mused, levering open the breech of her submachine gun as she did so. A greenish sludge dribbled from the chamber as she freed it. Sighing she stripped the magazine from the weapon and tumbed free one of the plastic sheathed rounds. It was the size of a poker chip and comprised a hyper dense metal pellet along with coiled hyper conductive copper gold alloy that worked with the electromagnets to accelerate the round down the barrel. Experimentally she rubbed the round between thumb and forefinger. The plastic crumbled like compacted dirt.

"Curse me for a fool," she said and then looked up at the puzzled expression on her comrades faces.

"From my perspective these rounds have only been here a couple of days," she explained, tossing the worthless round away and trying the next one.

"But really, they have been under spring pressure for two years, its work hardened the plastic." The second round crumbled also.

"Damn lucky it didn't get me killed right now," she groused. This round still workded and she manually cycled it through the weapon with a series of clacks as she pulled the action open and closed making sure the loading mechanism worked. It was no guarntee but it was the best she was going to get.

"I think our best bet is to hike a few clicks off into the bush," she made a general gesture in the direction of the Highlander, "And then try to figure out what we are going to do."

"Also," she went on, turning to address the native girl in her own tongue, she was watching Sayeeda as though she was performing some sort of magic trick.

"You got a name?"

@POOHEAD189

"Lucky my gun's old fashioned then." Neil said in regard's to Junebug's malfunctioning submachine gun. He'd used plenty of state of the art weaponry before, most recently when he had the flamer during the Xenonid attack. But his old mech fighter had a revolving cylinder cannon for its main armament, so he had taken up a .44 magnum in homage to it. There was no strain on the chambers with the bullets, thankfully. It might not have as rapid of a rate of fire as many guns, but it was reliable and it had stopping power.

His hair and body were soaked, though the sudden warmth of the dying day changed that. He could already feel a mellow heat washing over him. He enjoyed heat more than most, but it had been very harsh here. It was more than welcome at the moment, however. He still did undo his revolver, taking it apart and making sure to dry the bullets. It might be reliable but you never know when water was involved. Even laser rifles had trouble with water.

"Quetzalli" the woman said, somewhat enchanted and elated that she had not only had escaped with her life, but she had helped the Starmen in doing so. Her previous gazes at Neil also showed a bit of what she was planning, but at the moment she was just happy to be free from Wetumpkah and being around such strange and wondrous people.

If Neil was reading her mind, he'd be grinning at how she'd feel about a full set of clothes and maybe some well cooked meals. Or a soft bed for that matter. But at the moment he was just putting the bullets back in his gun and strode over to the woman and Junebug. Neil's brows were raised as the woman looked to him and pointed to herself. "Quetzalli."

"Is that her name?" Neil asked, and Junebug gave a nod and a grin.

"Fuckin' sweet. I'm Neil." He said, then realized he spoke far too many words. "I mean uh..." He pointed to himself. "Neeeeeiiiil" he said slowly. She reached over to grab his hands, enfolding them in her own as she batted her eyes at him, her voice a sultry whisper. "Neil"

"Oooooh kay." He chuckled, trying to keep her focused on them surviving still. Honestly he felt like she was a cool woman, because she seemed about as crazy and exciting as him. But he'd just gotten out of a melee and he was still woozy from the bonk to the head. Might want to make it back to the Highlander before they picked out drapes. "Let's see if we can find some place to lie low." The pilot said, and though the woman was somewhat unfamiliar with this part of the jungle, it was not too hard going as they made it a few miles deeper into the woods.

"Taya" the younger woman said, giving a wave to Quetzalli, and the other nodded in turn.

Once the sun was fully down, two moons appeared above them. They had found a small glade to rest for awhile. Neil volunteered to climb a tree and see if there was any fruit up there, as Junebug had deciphered from who Neil called 'Zalli' that a pear shaped, pink fruit was good to eat. He'd just found a couple in the dark when they heard a roar that reverberated off the trees, sending a cold chill up each of their spines.
@Penny

A moment later a second roar, much closer than the first, rang out in answer. Zalli spoke quickly in her language but so low and so rapidly that Junebug got hardly a word of it. Not that it mattered much, the fearful look on the girl’s face was enough to tell her what she needed to know.

“Oh Stars, oh Stars,” Taya moaned hugging herself tightly and looking around in close to a panic.

“Stay calm,” Junebug instructed. Unconsciously she checked that the loading tube of her sub machine gun was firmly locked in place. Seven of the thirty round load had been functional. Maybe functional anyway as there was no test short of firing them that she could trust. It was unlikely that Neil had an overabundance of rounds either.

“Fwgao?” Junebug asked Zalli, struggling for the native word for fire. The girl shook her head vigorously and made a circling motion with her hand.

“Got it,” the mercenary acknowledged wishing for about the thousandth time that she had her helmet. Infrared would make the job significantly easier, but then if she had all her gear then a pack of hungry predators would be no threat at all. What they needed was a defensible position, somewhere the trees were a bit less tight and the animals whatever they were would be visible long enough to line up a shot. The top of the lightly forested ridge was about two hundred meters away. It never got completely clear but the rocky soil near the crest made the vegetation thin and stunted.

“Climb,” she directed, gesturing uphill with the muzzle of her submachine gun. Something rustled in the bushes behind her and she spun to level her weapon. The darkness fell suspiciously quiet and the sudden lack of birds chirping and insect skittering was as shocking as a gunshot.

“Neil take the lead I’ll bring up the rear,” she said, keeping her voice calm as her muzzle quested for a target. Keeping the two noncombatants between them they started slowly up the hill. The moonlight was bright but save, for the occasional flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, Junebug could see nothing of the creatures that were certainly hunting them. After three or for minutes of tense travel they neared the ridge line when suddenly Junebug bumped into Zalli. She risked a glance at the woman and saw that she had frozen, big eyes wide.

“Uhh Junebug,” Neil said unnecessarily drawing her attention. Atop the ridge, fifty yards away, a shadow was slinking into view, silhouetted against the moons. It was uncertain in the darkness whether it was more similar to a big cat or a gorilla but the three great pupils it opened ruled out any thought of terrain origin. Its face rippled slightly with suggestion of big teeth or fangs. The woodland behind them rustled with concealed movements as the lesser members of the things pack took their positions.

“Statistically,” Junebug observed dryly, her skin prickling with adrenaline, “We have to catch a break sooner or later.”

With a roar and a clatter of stones the thing launched itself down the steep slope towards them. Neil’s pistol roared but Junebug was already turning her attention back to the rear where a trio of smaller animals burst from concealing bushes. Offering up a quick prayer she squeezed the trigger and was relieved when the weapon snapped off the first two rounds without a hitch, sending one of the creatures tumbling away down the slope. Stars above the things were fast, even scrabbling up uneven footing. Behind her Taya and perhaps Zalli were screaming but she didn’t allow it to break her concentration. She managed to put a round into the second of the three animals a few feet before it reached her but there was no time to line up the third before it struck her. Junebug managed to parry its slashing claws with her weapon but the weight of the thing smashed her to the ground, driving the wind from her lungs.
@POOHEAD189

At Junebug's comment, Neil shrugged. "Well, math's never been my strong suit." He said, twirling his gun before he aimed it at one of the stalking predators, a low clicking noise emanating from its throat. It's three, too-intelligent eyes were all that was visible in the moonlight other than a general shape.

"You're an engineer!" Taya breathed, hysteria in her voice. She obviously wanted to focus on anything other than the night terrors that stalked them, but once one leaped at Neil she screamed once more. Zalli cried out in fear, though it was also for fear of Neil. Luckily, the pilot had learned how to spread a shot long ago. Even with the preturnatural speed of the beast, he aimed with his gun and used his free hand to pull the hammer back in quick succession. The first three shots missed, and Neil's heart nearly leaped into his throat before he saw his fourth and fifth shots hit. The rounds thudded into the predator, causing it to give a shriek that nearly pierced his ears.

It hit the ground and twitched. Neil shot it a sixth time to make sure it was dead, before a rough noise and Quetzalli yelling something he could not understand had him spinning around. Taya was shaking, unable to will herself to move and aid Junebug who was fighting for her life. Neil wanted to run at the creature with his knife, but if he moved he would get attacked by the last creature prowling in the brush. He knew the only reason it had not leaped at them was because Neil might fire at it, thankfully the predator could not understand he needed to reload.

The pilot hastily reloaded, though he knew every second brought Junebug closer to death. He placed two rounds in his revolver, spun the chamber and fired on instinct. The bullet thudded into the muscled, leopard-like creature's shoulder, causing it to weaken its struggles as it attempted to bite at Junebug, who used the opportunity to kick it off of her. Neil heard a twig snap and spun, but it was too late for him to fire at the creature that pounced on him. It was by the grace of the God's he ducked in time for its claws to miss him, but its body hit him with a glancing blow that sent him and the creature spinning onto the ground. His gun and knife flew wide and into the dirt. Agile as ever, Neil spun in an almost breakdance style and kicked it before it could gain its wits again.

Junebug and Neil would be both proud and baffled at what happened next. The Captain would hear another crack, and a bullet would wound her beast's paw, the smoking gun it came from was from Taya's trembling hands as she used Neil's last bullet. Meanwhile, Neil was speechless when Quetzalli stormed into his quagmire of his struggle with the creature and began to stab it with Neil's knife, receiving a slashing wound to her arm for the trouble but it was enough to make the predator retreat into the brush with a whimper.
@Penny

The night was clear and quiet again save for the heavy breathing of all concerned. With a weary effort Junebug pressed one hand to the ground and lifted herself to her feet, taking care to keep her weapon free. Smoke drifted slowly from the barrel of the weapon as she scanned the jungle. Taya trembled, holding Neil's smoking pistol in both hands. The girl's eyes were like saucers and Junebug gave it even odds that she was about to throw up. With meticulous care she refastened her patrol sling and slung the submachinegun before picking her way up the slope. With a slow deliberate motion she plucked the pistol from the young woman's unyielding hands, cracked the chamber, closed the weapon and put the safety on before handing it back to Taya. Zalli stood not far away, forearms slicked in blood from the knife she held in a reverse handed grip. The native girl's chest heaved with exertion and excitement which Junebug was objective enough to concede was distracting. She didn't try to take the knife, the girl obviously knew enough to handle the weapon.

The large creature lay sprawled against a grayish boulder projecting from the ridge, greenish blood flowing into the volcanic red dirt. Up close the thing appeared to be more cat like, though given a weird aspect by the unusually long front legs. Its mouth was filled with long razored teeth as well as cartilaginous spurs that ran from the things joints. There was a strange smell too, like a combination of cinnamon and ammonia. Junebug wondered if the things were venomous. Turning her flashlight on she illuminated the things paw and was relieved to find claws but no obvious venom.

"Well," Junebug commented, voice seeming oddly loud in the quite the followed the moments of frenetic action.

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

In the aftermath of the ambush no one was enthusiastic about making camp and they marched through the night, stopping briefly at dawn to eat a quick meal of fruit foraged by Zalli and Neil. Taya marched resolutely head down and grip tight on the gun, though what she thought it would accomplish with no rounds was any ones guess. An hour later Taya stiffened suddenly and Junebug lifted her weapon.

"I have a ping from the Highlander," she said, the first words she had spoken in some hours, voice cracking for want of a drink of water. She seemed to focus for a moment and then turned a few degrees to the north.

"Got a bearing," she reported happily. Another hour later, guided by Taya's radio beacon they climbed over the low rise and looked down upon the crippled ship, still moored to the bank and unmolested.

@POOHEAD189

The trek was uncomfortable to say the least. Neil sometimes felt they were being watched the first mile or two, stalked by the predator they had wounded. But soon it disappeared, and not a glimpse was seen of it again. Zalli's arm bled, but not profusely. She had handed it back to Neil, and Neil in turn ripped a bit of his native dress to wrap around her wound once they ate breakfast. "You know, so much shit keeps happening," he said to Sayeeda with a shrug and a helpless smile. "I keep forgetting we're not getting paid by someone."

He gave a laugh at his own words, unable to help himself when he viewed their dire circumstances. Neil and the others ached and had a true want for water, but they moved on and kept at it until Taya announced with a croak that the Highlander was near.

When they finally made it to the ship, Neil gave a savage "yesssss," clenching his fist. Running his hands through his hair, he remembered they had fresh water and food onboard, not to mention a showering unit. Yes it was all limited, but if they got the engines working again it wouldn't matter. Plus the shower water went through the automated cleansing system to be drinkable again. That should still be working if the life support was.

Taya nearly wept when she saw the ship, though instead of crying or prostrating herself, she gave the longest and most tired sigh. "Thank the Gods of the Realm." She said, swallowing to make her throat the tiniest bit more moist from their long trek. Quetzalli was happy too, but in an entirely different fashion. While not quite as used to rough situations like Junebug, she was still a tribeswoman and knew how it felt to face harship. Her main focus was on the strange beast made of metal before her, larger than all dwellings save the ziggurats she had served in. Her eyes were wide and her full lips were open in wonder.

Neil, of course, saw it as an old friend. "Can't wait to have another chat with Lonney." He coughed, and headed toward the open hatch door and toward the inner entrance, his feet digging into the sand before they stepped on solid Xarconian steel. The young pilot inserted the correct algorithm to open the door. To their relief, it opened with a small 'hiss.'

"Permission to clean our wounds, wash up, and get something to fucking eat Captain?"
@Penny

Junebug felt comfortable for the first time since Fornax. After a few hours sleep, and a shower so hot that her skin was still warm minutes later, it felt as though a veil had been lifted. She sat at the galley table sipping hot bitter coffee and chewing determinedly toast which had been blackened to within a few degrees of ash. The clothes helped immeasurably too, few things were as subltey disorienting as strange garb, now she wore fatigue pants, combat boots and a tan brown cotton PT shirt.

"Take that brush and pull it through the ring," she instructed, gesturing with a piece of imitation bacon. Taya, seated across from her and wearing some of Sayeeda's spare close, picked up a piece of the disassembled pistol spread on the table and started to scrub the capacitor ring.

"Like this?" the girl asked. Junebug nodded her approval as she chewed her fakeon and took another swig of the bitter coffee. The smell of gun oil and cleaning products was a familiar and comforting one to the veteran and she picked up the stock of her own plasma rifle, a far more complex weapon than the one Taya was practicing with, and began snapping the pieces back together. Checking weapons and gear was a routine task but she couldn't pretend that her malfunctioning submachine gun hadn't made her a little more enthusiastic than usual.

"Hi-lo," came a sultry voice from the bulkhead door. Junebug looked up to see Quetzalli, clad in a gray jumpsuit, sniffing at the air. The girls eyes were wide and continued to dart from wonder to wonder. Junebug felt a pang of sympathy. Entering the Highlander would have been jarring for her under the best of circumstances but she had also taken a REM learning program while she slept. Sleep learning a language wasn't a matter of going to bed one night and waking up fluent. The technology provided equivalency to existing linguistic connections, it made learning a new language far easier than unaided study but a full course took weeks and relied on practice to consolidate the knowledge. Scrambling brain connections also left the student disoriented and made it hard to focus. Mercenary units enroute to theaters frequently used the technique to pick up enough local dialect to get by. Of course their primary concern was usually booze and companionship which were pretty much human universals.

"Hello," Junebug replied gesturing the girl into the compartment.

"Come, eat," she directed, pointing to the plate of bacon and toast in the middle of the table between the broken down weapons. She finished reassembling her rifle and clicked through the automated diagnostic before propping the weapon in a corner and wiping the tabletop clear of the minor detritus of the task.

"First officer," she said formally before taking a mouthful of coffee, the word tripping the shipwide communication circuit.

"Please report to the Council of War and Breakfast in the galley."

@POOHEAD189

Sevendust blared in Neil's ears as he gave the engine a tuneup, trying to reroute every spare inch of power to the thing he could while cleaning out useless functions to get better output. His goggles were illuminated by the torch of his multi-tool as he worked, a grin on his face. He'd been yearning to work on something mechanical since they'd landed on this primitive world. Oh, he had attempted to rest, but he was at the point where he was so tired sleep wouldn't come, so he decided to make the most of it. While the ladies had gotten somewhat settled in, Neil inhaled a muffin replacement and delved into work.

Luckily it was just his muscles that were tired more than his nerves or eyes, and he could tank through that no problem. Time didn't seem a tangible thing until he felt more than heard Sayeeda's voice over the comm. He blinked, taking the eartube out of his ear and the goggles off his eyes to make sure. Once she repeated the order, he set his tools down and was eager to tell her the theoretical good news. He grabbed the door handled and swung out into the hall, before literally bounding into the War room, half excited to tell her, and he could smell the food from the hall. He appeared in the doorway suddenly.

"Hey..." he began, and for the first time he realized that he was the only male aboard the ship with the possible exception of Lonney when he had the right accent. Junebug sat straight and confident, exotic and strong. Taya waved and smiled. Quetzalli was elated that he showed up. They all looked at him, and he gave a smile. "So, what is up?"

"Hi-lo." Zalli said, giving him a broad smile that spoke volumes. Neil blinked, almost not recognizing her because she wore actual clothes. He pointed at her while he looked to Junebug. "Did she take a nap?" He asked with a smirk, and once his suspicions were confirmed he gave a laugh. "Well, I am glad to have you aboard." He said to her, reaching out to kiss her hand. Her smile grew more pleased, and Neil vaulted over the back of his chair and plopped down, fakon already in his mouth before he realized what he was doing.

"Scho fa good newv iv." He began, mouth full. Taya exhaled in a small chuckle, which brought him back to reality. He downed some water and continued. "The good news is, we have a small bit of power. Only...a fraction of what we usually would have in the engine. One of the pylons didn't use all of its juice, and I took out some secondary systems. So if we can somehow find a R.I.P. tide around the planet, I believe we can get out of here...assuming we know what galaxy we're in."
@Penny