Junebug closed the medicomp around Taya’s body and bought it live with a few touches of the holographic pad. Ordinarily the autodoc would have been overkill for sunburn and dehydration but Taya was very fair and hadn’t been exposed to a lifetime of grueling physical activity the way Junebug had. The blond haired woman sighed immediately as salves and antiseptics were applied to her skin and intravenous hydration began to replace the fluids she had lost on the grueling march across the desert. Crossing to the pilot's seat she took a cup of water and downed it in single long pull thrilling to the feel of the cool water in her parched throat.

Neil had already gone to sleep but Taya was too burned and dehydrated to go quite yet. Sayeeda had opted to take the first watch, mostly because other than Saxon, she was the only person in any condition to do it. Lony confirmed that Saxon was in the hold, he seemed to be conducting some form of meditation, though from the way his nostrils and scales were flared, it had more to do with adapting to the new temperature than it did with finding inner peace. 

Indra watched from the corner of the room. She was clearly tense, no doubt worried that the Highlanders might simply turn around and sell her to Sven. The woman’s body was too perfect to be the result of natural processes, Junebug suspected genetic engineering rather than surgery but she wasn’t an expert in such things. Few worlds that could afford such high tech luxuries were ever in the market for mercenary soldiers or at least they tended to the hiring for service on some much less well off colony worlds. If Sven was indeed after her, it was a miracle she was still free, coming to the Highlander was probably the one move the Cyborg wouldn’t have predicted. That made her either extremely lucky or extremely smart and Junebug wasn’t sure which one to go with just yet. 

“You won’t turn me over to him will you?” Indra asked as Junebug refilled her cup from the dispensing nozzle. Her voice had a vulnerable quaver that made even Junebug’s pulse climb a few beats. She glanced sidelong at Indra trying to determine if this was a conscious effort to manipulate her, but she saw no guile in the woman’s worried face.

“Look,” Junebug began, searching for a way to make herself understood without making herself look like a monster.

“I’m a mercenary, but I’m a good one, if you contract my crew to get you off this dustball, than that is what we will do,” she explained. It was unlikely that the woman really appreciated how seriously Junebug took her contracts but it was enough reassurance for Indra to break into a nervous smile.

“Do we need to sign paperwork or anything?” she asked in what Junebug thought might be a weak attempt at a joke. Instead of responding she reached out her hand.

“Let's make it a full repair of my ship and a million credits and you have yourself an extraction team,” Junebug offered. As expected Indra grasped her hand and shook it firmly.

“So what does Sven want with you?” Taya asked unexpectedly. Junebug had forgotten the young aristocrat was in the room until the moment she spoke.

“I mean I can see what the old Pasha wanted but Sven… I didn’t get the impression he was that interested in… in the normal human stuff.” If Indra was ashamed of her previous slavery to the Pasha she didn’t show it.

“I don’t know what he wants, perhaps to ransom me to my father?” Indra supposed. Junebug shook her head. Whatever else Sven was, he was certainly ambitious, she doubted he would be happy being the tin pot dictator of one city on an insignificant dustball for long. Whatever he had in mind for Indra it would be a bigger play than a simple ransom.

“How will you get in touch with my father, if your ship cant fly?” she asked, more at ease now that the deal had been struck.

“She can fly,” Junebug snapped, a little defensive at the idea that the Highlander was in that bad shape.

“Sorry, it's been a long couple of days,” she apologised, draining another glass of water and refilling it.

“What I meant to say is that she can fly, it's just we can't inset into the RIP without some serious repairs. As for how we will get in touch with your father… “ It was a fair question, there was no way to communicate between systems across interstellar distances. The usual protocol was to send message capsules, miniature spacecraft, or to have freighters and merchantmen carry news packets with them. As all systems paid a small fee to any ship transmitting a packet, most merchant ships did so as a matter of course, often allowing an automated system to handle the whole thing start to finish. There were rumors that the Terran had constructed a few array of quantum binaries, theoretical pairs of electrons, carefully separated so that they could use quantum entanglement to instantaneously transport data from one place to another, but that seemed more like campfire stories than anything Junebug was willing to put stock in.

“Neil really is the engineer on this boat,” she admitted grudgingly. While she could work on most systems with the aid of her helmet, she just wasn't the same sort of tinkerer that Neil was.