In the light of morning on Crash+4, Tyreese Darnell brought Ezra some breakfast. Fastening flash gear over a plate carrier and a mask over his face, the large suited man gingerly stepped past the wall of crates and the plastic sheeting while clutching an MRE. It was the first time he’d ventured away from the safety of the ship since they crashed. For three days previously he’d paced, swore, agitated and generally been a bit of a nuisance. Gradually, the stress of the crash had worn off and the bruise on the back of his head had gone down. He’d stopped feeling sick too. Now, he’d finally drummed up the courage to go outside. The vista that greeted him was absolutely stunning. There had been a light rain during the night, so all the grass that hadn’t been scorched glistened with dew. The fog was gone, leaving a majestic view down the hill towards the marshes and lake on the horizon. A few small rocks tumbled down the side when he kicked them. Tyreese couldn’t actually see Ezra, so he opened comms. “Ezra, food for you here.” No reply. Perplexed, Tyreese skirted the Jotunheim’s hull until he was facing the massive primary thrusters. He looked around again. There was a camp nearby where the aliens had set up shop. He avoided them and went instead to the droid that stood guard. “Where is Ezra?” He asked the robot. “Opposite end.” It whispered back in Wodan’s voice. So Darnell traipsed back along the port side of the craft and looked up the hill. He saw another droid stationed near a clutch of bushes, and so walked up. The ground was moderately slushy underfoot, where the ash of burning shrubbery had mixed back with water. Darnell tutted at the shit now adorning his Oxford shoes, but pressed on. The droid’s upper bod swivelled to face him as he approached. It cradled a long gun, whirring softly. “Where is Ezra?” It pointed, and the mercenary’s IFF tag pinged blue in Darnell’s fake eye augment. A prone outline of the man cut through the bush leaves. “Thanks. Ezra!” Darnell called. “He is resting.” Wodan spoke through the droid, rather superfluously. Ezra jerked instantly awake, pulled his sidearm and pointed it at Darnell in one movement. He put his hands up, MRE in one of them. “Hey, it's me. I brought you food. Sorry, did I wake you?” Ezra holstered the gun but stayed prone, checking his watch. “No. Thanks.” He lightly clapped his gloved hands together and then cupped them out. Darnell understood the motion and chucked the MRE through the bush towards him. Ezra caught it and began opening it up. “The drones can deliver these.” He said before his first bite. “I fancied stretching my legs. The scenery is beautiful isn’t it?” “How goes work on repairs?” “I’m no expert, but it seems there is a lot to do.” Some of the Wodan and Eva’s drones skittered over the hull even now, analysing issues and welding things together. “You’d better get back to helping them.” “Listen, Ezra, I’m sorry you’re stuck here with the rest of us.” It felt weird for Darnell, apologising to someone who was essentially a contractor. But he needed this guy on side. “But look around. This is an inhabitable planet that isn’t Earth, and we’re the ones who discovered it! The opportunity before us is gigantic.” Tyreese kinda expected Ezra to respond there, but he didn’t. “Do you have a family?” Darnell asked, changing tack. Another pause. “Yes.” “When we get back, you’ll be able to tell them you helped colonise a New Earth. Give them a life they could never dream of. “We will be killed before then. I should leave, take supplies and hide until it's over.” Darnell’s face fell. “We can survive, Ezra. But we need you. If I can get back in one piece to make my recommendation, Tamerlane will be very appreciative of your help in this matter.” The figure in the bushes looked right at him, the MRE motionless in his hands. “One million per day.” Darnell laughed out loud. “That was for your whole team’s services!” “Now I protect whole ship by myself. One million.” “Two hundred thousand.” “Seven fifty.” “Three hundred.” “Five.” “Three fifty.” “Five hundred thousand per day.” “That is an extortionate long term rate.” “I leave tomorrow then.” “Ok fine. Deal. But you work for me, ok? Not the Captain. If I don't get back alive, Tamerlane would rather kill you than pay you that much.” “I’d like to see them try.”