Molybdenum trundled towards the strange giant. The only creature sizeable larger than himself. "Can you stand, friend?" On noticing her limp legs he begins to lean down intending to pick her up. Then he paused as he registers her sizeable claws. He cringes back and pauses and waits a response, deciding to air on the side of caution lest she decide to take offence to his attempt to assist. She could pop him with ease.

I looked up to see a strange sight, some sort of exo-atmospheric suit that would be unwieldy in normal atmosphere. I breathed in, the dusty air carried no pollutants of note, crisp and marked of an undeveloped world. My leg moves slowly, trying to test my nerves and make sure my body was not permanently damaged by the sedatives. I answer his question, drawing one in and pressing my arms out. My vision immediately blurs, not yet fully capable. Vertigo was setting in, but I forced my body up to one knee. I flick the individual clawed digits on my hand to make sure they were all still responsive.

The sun is so much brighter than the shipboard light, my eye slits narrowing with the exposure. My mouth was free, able to speak without issue, able to feed as needed... I would not need to feed for a time, and as I look into the tinted glass, I see the outline of something that looks distinctly unappetizing, how a humanoid could be reduced to bone with all soft tissues destroyed is an intriguing prospect. So many questions, but for now I answer his "I think I can. I will be a moment." for whatever he may be, a humanoid could not overpower me here. A lack of danger was welcome for once, but the future was still unclear. Other prisoners were speaking to each other, but I was not yet paying attention to it. "Who are you?" I ask the strange being.

Saeyeon Kim

Kim heard what some of the people in the group proposed to get out of their current predicament, most of what was said she did not like at all. Trying to grief the locals isn’t what she signed up for. Granted, she didn’t sign up to be taken captive, be subjugated to hard labor, and dropped off at some desert part of a planet either.

She nodded when Dusk gave his opposition to the plans and provided his alternative.

“I have to agree with Mr. Dusk,” she said. “I doubt trying to pose as bounty hunters or government tax inspectors are going to net us enough money to find transportation and leave the planet. Might as well try and be friendly the locals while we can. I don’t need to have an actual legitimate reason for bounty hunters to go after us.”

"To add on to what my fellow kiellar has said," Vaehach interjected, his angry eyes carefully settled on the Ragon though he had no other visable reaction. "I settled down in the republic that nominally claims this world, and I saw some of the advertisements to try to improve colonization efforts. We're dealing with a dhasath world here with a large kiellar minority. And, if I were a betting man, I'd wager most of the kiellar here are either veterans of the War or the children of veterans. The Dhasath alone also have more than enough reason to kill that thing. Useful for us, sure, but not until we need heavy lifting."

He looked back to the crew broadly before he continued, give a gesture to remind them to keep moving. "We're on a frontier world as well, so I'd also bet on us not receiving the warmest welcome even if we didn't have the ragon with us. Most of us look like convicts because we are convicts, and I haven't made it this far to be hanged from a street-lamp by some backwater colonists because some of you let petty morals outweigh good sense. There's a time to make a stand, but this isn't it. I don't like it, you don't have to like it, but that's the reality of the situation."

He sighed for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he trudged forward. Frustration now bluntly shown through with every word. "And the best lies aren't the crazy bullshit audacious ones either. They're the ones with a grain of truth to them, the ones with less moving parts and less stories to keep straight. If we steal enough clothes for two or three people from homesteaders along the way, they can go into town with the story that they're survivors from a crash, collect donations of clothes, food, and water for the group and find us some honest work to do."

"Now lets keep moving, you godsdamned fools!" His shouted. His voice carried over the crowd, evoking the image of of a particularly tired sergeant despite his currently unkept, scruffy appearance.

Dusk’s disbelief and consternation did not really register with Bandit. With fewer preconceived notions about how things out in the boundless depths of space ought to be, the android had a better grasp upon the fundamental absurdity of cosmic life and would not be so easily dismayed. Instead, an astute observation from Neri about the android’s incompatibility with headwear turned the her attention the plumber’s way. “Yup! You need some pilferin’ done, I’m yer gal. This ain’t a charity though, sunshine. You wanna put me to work, you’re gonna need to grease my wheels.” Bandit rubbed her two fingers against her thumb. “I ain’t workin’ for IOUs no more, either. From now on, folks gotta gimme their heads up front! Or cash, I guess. Straight to the ol’ deposit box, if ya don’t mind.” She tapped the rim of her gaping neck-hole.

Neri seemed to be under the impression that the marooned prisoners couldn’t traipse around the wasteland in their smallclothes, and honestly, Bandit didn’t follow her logic. What, pray tell, was stopping them? Bandit certainly wasn’t wearing much of anything, just her makeshift cape, which was a very recent addition. And she looked great! At least, nobody else had told her otherwise. When Castleton voiced his thoughts on the possible virtues of near-nakedness, Bandit nodded along. Or at least, she would have, if she had a head to nod with. DANG IT. Between that and being unable to return Jane Marshall’s subtle head nod of respectful solidarity, Bandit needed to find herself a head, and pronto. For other reasons, too, although she couldn’t exactly remember why.

When Larce offered everyone a celebratory smoke, Bandit waved him off. “Nah, tryin’ to quit.”

The other prisoners’ introductions mostly rolled off Bandit’s mind (or lack thereof) like water off a duck’s back. Whether Kieller, Dhasath, Earthling, or otherwise, all the people she’d met in her life were transient, soon to vanish from her personal orbit and never reappear again. She had only so much random access memory, so if these people didn’t want to end up forgotten, they’d need to prove themselves worth remembering. Bandit did, however, somehow get a sense of Ruvulla’s inordinate scorn, a contempt born of odd familiarity. The android’s attention lingered for a moment on the Colonel’s steely face, trying to gauge her intense expression. That look made her skin(?) crawl. Did she maybe know something, something even Bandit herself did not? Probably not…that was an extreme logical leap, even for circuits as fried as hers. “Well, heatstroke ain’t a problem for me,” she muttered. “Not for a spell, at least.”

Although the android had zoned out due to Ruvulla’s disdainful scrutiny, tuning back into the convicts’ primary conversation indicated that some sort of alternative plan was in the works, spearheaded by the suave smoker. It sounded like they wanted to adopt a more discreet approach when it came to robbing the nearby town blind? That sounded a little like beating around the bush, but as long as it lined Bandit’s pockets, it couldn’t be all bad. That magic word ‘mining’ worked wonders for her, and it gave her a newfound appreciation for Larce. WAIT, LARCE? AS IN LARCENY? IS THIS TYPECASTING?

Not everyone was fully on board with the plan, though. People began to hem and haw, pointing out flaws and suggesting alterations. Larce’s scheme quickly got so many holes poked in it that Moly was probably scared shipless. Neri even tried to call a civilized vote to get the gaggle of irritable killers, outlaws, and scallywags organized. Now that was optimism that Bandit couldn’t help but like! When multiple votes for a true honest approach were cast, though, the android sighed. Some people were making an awful lot of assumptions about how much of a team these misfits really were. There was that big lizard for instance, the scary woman rather preoccupied with the big lizard, and Mr. Gasbag. When a gruff but otherwise unidentifiable Kieller man started rattling off societal and historical exposition as a prelude to taking charge, Bandit’s attention quickly drifted toward the ridge that supposedly veiled a colony settlement. “Gettin’ bored real quick…”

When Vaehach’s bellow resounded over the group, it both jolted Bandit out of her reverie and gave her just the excuse she needed. “You got it, hoss!” Without further ado the android launched forward, her servos whirring as she took off in a headlong sprint that quickly ramped up to forty miles per hour. Clouds of dust flew as she raced away at top speed, headed straight toward the ridge. A little rock was no match for a TABS-EVA unit’s agility after all, even in-atmosphere. Once she overcame the terrain, her next stop was the town, with or without any of the other prisoners and their plans.

---

CJ took a few moments to breathe deep, luxuriating in a vice that'd been denied her for too long. One of the kiellar seemed to be more concerned about the Ragon among them than the overall situation, and the other seemed to put the two on equal footing.

"Now lets keep moving, you godsdamned fools!" His shouted. His voice carried over the crowd, evoking the image of of a particularly tired sergeant despite his currently unkept, scruffy appearance.

He was barking orders, too, which she didn't appreciate one bit; whatever rank he may or may not have held, it didn't mean a damn thing out here. He'd been dumped out of the same stinking scrapheap as the rest; at least the human sergeant was casting a vote rather than expecting everyone to follow commands.

She took another drag and looked over the Ragon; she'd never fought one, but she had fought alongside one in her pirate days. Main thing she knew about them was that common courtesy went a long way toward not having them rearrange your fleshy parts. This one seemed to follow that pattern; they were asking the same kind of questions as everyone else had about the most unusual member of their unusual group. That was worth looking further into, far as she was concerned.

Then her thoughts were interrupted by Bandit opting to shoot past her toward the ridge. The draft pulled the cigarette from her mouth; she managed to clamp her left hand on it before it hit the ground and returned it to the corner of her mouth, looking a fair bit worse for wear. She followed the dust trail with her eyes for a few more moments in bemusement, and turned toward Vaehach; as much as she was bristling at his command of the situation, he could at least make his voice heard.

"So, uh... How's that figure into our plans, hoss?"

The Kiellar's expression shifted in surprise as the robot mustered a speed none of them could hope to match while stuck on foot.

Useful, he noted, at least when aimed at the right target. The impulsiveness, if one could call it that, left him less than impressed at the decision.

---

"So, uh... How's that figure into our plans, hoss?"

"If the machine comes back with something useful," he replied as he followed the deep ruts in the sand left in Bandit's wake, "We'll call it reconnaissance. If we pass its shot-up chassis on our way to the town, we'll call it stupidity and it won't be our problem any longer."

@Bingelly@Pragia12

To no surprise, Larce raised his hand when the vote for a dishonest approach was called.

“You know, I've actually tried the tax inspector ruse before. Ended up with full access to their books and everything. Unfortunately the discrepancies I found were the result of city officials skimming from the top. Triggered a full scale investigation into their finances and a massive restructure. Had to bail before I drew anymore attention, but they did offer me a treasury position before I left. Benefits would have been nice, but I don't think I could have made the hours work.”

When the call for the 'dishonesty' went out, Neri's hand went up as well. She gave a short laugh at Larce's talk about being a tax inspector, which was about the moment she noticed the ragon and began slowly backing away, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the creature which was talking to the skeleton in the spacesuit. Out here there probably wasn't a real chance of outrunning it. Where could she run to? But she could potentially run faster than someone else.

The others didn't seem as worried as they should, but some of them were humans and probably had no idea what they were looking at.

The distraction was enough to set aside any thoughts of making a smart comment in response to Vaehach's outburst. In truth his plan was the simplest, "OK...we're going with what the old soldier says," she said hurriedly, her voice lower than before, "I'm a good candidate to go ahead and ask for some donations. If what he said is right about this world, I'm going to look like a friendly face. Dhasath tend to look after other dhasath... who wants to come with me? I'll take the first two hands up."

She was not going to stay out here waiting for someone else to come back with clothes when there was a, potentially, hungry ragon amongst them...

"OK...we're going with what the old soldier says," she said hurriedly, her voice lower than before, "I'm a good candidate to go ahead and ask for some donations. If what he said is right about this world, I'm going to look like a friendly face. Dhasath tend to look after other dhasath... who wants to come with me? I'll take the first two hands up."

“Allow me to humbly offer my support and services to your escapade miss.” Castleton strode forward to stop before the plumber-turned-convict. “While only human I believe I will at least be able to look out of my depth and thus illicit pity for our cause.”

He did pause to kneel by the ground and scoop up a few handfuls of dirt. Rubbing the grit onto his hand and over his face to make his appearance more battered, and hopefully, sympathetic.

”Captain” James Castleton

“Allow me to humbly offer my support and services to your escapade miss.” Castleton strode forward to stop before the plumber-turned-convict. “While only human I believe I will at least be able to look out of my depth and thus illicit pity for our cause.”

He did pause to kneel by the ground and scoop up a few handfuls of dirt. Rubbing the grit onto his hand and over his face to make his appearance more battered, and hopefully, sympathetic.

"Looks like its just you and me... Jay-mess". the translators couldn't hide Neri's difficulty with the unfamiliar name, "Though I'll save the dirt until I've got some clothes to dirty as well."

She paused, glancing at the rest of the group, "Don't kill each other while I'm gone!" she called. There was a ragon. There were random aliens she'd never seen before. The odds of a lethal misunderstanding were actually reasonably high, she mused. Not that she could focus on that right now. She had the immediate personal problem of needing to swipe clothes off a line without anyone noticing. Then there was the issue of getting clothing donations for everyone...

"We will be back as soon as we can," she assured them, beckoning for James to follow her as she began walking towards town. There would be some outlying homesteads to steal clothes from, she hoped.

Charnud of Ingiros

For most of the ongoing conversations, Charnud had been quiet. He didn’t raise a hand when a vote went up concerning whether they should steal clothes from the townspeople, and didn’t speak up either when objections were raised. He, for his part, was mostly just… thinking. For a bunch of prisoners, they haven’t showed themselves to be terrible specimens of sapience, at least, not yet. There was a Ragon, which had a reputation for eating other sapients simply because they were larger and stronger, albeit very drugged and barely cognizant. There was… a skeleton in a machine. And a machine. There were Kiellar and Dhasath, and a surprising number of humans, who, from what he could recall, came from that unremarkable planet called Earth.

Earth! Who would call their planet Dirt? Did they just hate their planet that much?

Soon enough, the Dhasath woman named Neri and a human man called Jaymz… Jeems… Jayms… whatever it was, decided that they would be the ones to gather clothes from the town. It was a sound plan; a large group descending on the place would be extremely suspicious. A small group, however, wouldn’t be. They could pose as vagrants, or wanderers, or survivors of an attack, or… something else.

Besides, Charnud could see that the Ragon was beginning to show signs of waking up. He didn’t want to be a first meal for it… or him… or her. Honestly, he can’t tell the difference. Ragon all looked the same to him.

With that, he took off, following Neri and James—except that they were already some distance away when he made up his mind. Curses. He’ll just have to catch up.

It was always better to let others do the work. At least that’s what Larce told himself as Neri and Ja-mez volunteered to take on the task of stealing what clothes they could and begging for the rest. Even if it meant kicking it with a dazed ragon, Larce was happy to hang back and relax. Yet as he watched the pair walk farther and farther away, he couldn’t help but dwell on his part in convincing them of this plan. Not to mention Neri was right, dhasath tended to look after one another, and he was the only other one in this motley crew. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he should have gone with them. And it seemed he wasn’t the only one. Spontaneously the “political dissident” practically bolted towards them.

“Hold up.” Larce called out to the kiel before he had gotten too far. The dhasath began jogging towards him, taking one last long drag from his cigarette before flicking it away. “I’ll go with ya. We gotta keep to the buddy system, right?”

I get to my feet, my vision still spinning as I cannot seem to right myself with whatever sedatives they had used on me. Were it merely the vaporous agent I would have already recovered with my heavy breathing, but it seems my former captors were spiteful and poisoned my blood with their crude concoctions. My footing would need to be sure enough as that murmuring of lesser sapients begin to mention my kind. None of the prisoners were particularly formidable, I could probably cut a bloody swathe through them if that became necessary, but I needed to consider more than their prowess.

Local technology is the only way I have to get off of this rock. It is unlikely I could synthesize the complex enzymes and proteins I need to sustain my modified body. I need these creatures, and unfortunately my pride will need to be kept at bay. I approach the gathering of these beings slowly, towering over them. My talons remain closed, trying to not raise alarm as much as I could. "I hope I will not need to kill any of you." it was a diplomatic greeting, one that promised peace!

Molybdenum did not get to introduce himself to the giant before accusations and decisions began to fly back and forth. It seems he had raised his hand for the wrong option, and a group of the regular looking fellows split off and followed in the dust wake of the zippy machine. He was jealous of the machine, that was impressively fast. He doubted he was even able to catch up to the regular organics.

As the beast he was close to stumbled towards the others, he offered a firm arm of support as he noticed it wobbled slightly. "I am molybdenum. I can support you, if you take care with your claws." He felt a kinship with all of the ship exiles, they were the only people he had ever known, but the perceived bond was closer with the stranger looking ones. He had a mild fear that the 'regular' ones would view the ones that looked more differently with suspicion. He didn't really understand how he appeared to others.

He trudged over, still listening more than adding to the conversation. He puzzled over why anyone would need to be killed. Bagsy not it. He also puzzled over why so many of them were fearful of the giant beast. Probably the claws. That seemed reasonable. He trudged behind the others, his heavy footprints leaving distinct tracks as he plodded along.

Neri and James
A Terrans and Dyelli Beybi co-write

The Town was still out of sight when James and Neri reached a largish house. It was hearing midday by the time they got there, hot, with the promise of getting hotter as the afternoon drew on. It was a rough and ready timber construction with solar panels on the roof and what looked like a mechanical water bore providing fresh water through a pipe to the house. There was also, true to Neri's predictions, washing on a line.

Climbing vines grey up a long frame that allowed Neri to approach the house without being seen by anyone inside... if they were looking out. It was hard to tell through the dark windows.

The dhasath was quick, quiet, removing a burgundy skirt and red plaid top, before darting forward to swipe a wide brimmed hat and pair of leather boots, that looked about her size, from where someone had left them in the back porch. If anyone spotted her, nobody cried out 'thief' and a couple of minutes later she was getting changed in a small depression in the land shielded by a couple of scrubby bushes, "No peeking!" she hissed, her voice low, before adding with a slight groan of irritation, "Urgh... I think I picked up a man's shirt. I'll wear it open over my singlet; guess it looks like I borrowed it from someone else at the 'crash site'. I hope."

"I take offense at that notion Miss Neri." James replied from his side of the bushes. Slight indignation evident in his voice. "I might have been thrown in among disreputable individuals. But I am a person of honor and respect."

It was unknown whether he gave any thought to the fact that the pair of them were currently donning stolen garments.

James stepped around the bush as he finished changing at the same time as his Dhasath companion. The "Captain" having found a pair of neutral colored work pants; pocketed and well patched things that resembled cargo pants. Dusty and abused combat boots, laced tightly, gave him an extra inch of gravitas. A dark blue button up peeked out from beneath a duster; the duster made of something akin to leather. The duster sharing the same shade of dark brown as the hat which he settled just so upon his scalp.

It appeared as if all of James' pilfered items had actually fit him. A coincidence he tried not to calculate as he took in his companion's ensemble.

"Well, it appears we are now both presentable and not identifiable as wrongly accused felons. Shall we proceed to the next part of our excursion?"

"Yes, lets," Neri remained quiet for a while, scuffing up dust with her newly acquired boots as they carried on in the direction of town. Though James caught her studying him with a sideways glance under the brim of her hat, "Hmm... you humans really do look like dhasath... it's uncanny. Though you seem quite tall to me? Would you amongst other humans? Sorry... I've heard stories, and I heard some of you were on the ship, but I've never actually met a human before today." She paused for a moment before adding, matter-of-factly, though with a hint of a grin, "I was tempted to peek. Scientific curiosity. You might have a mass of tentacles in the middle of your chest."

"No tentacles that I am aware of. Though you may feel free to not take me at my word." James replied, glancing at his new (literal) partner in crime. A grin mirroring Neri's. "As for my height. Well, I am considered among the taller of humans. Though there are people of larger stature then me."

"You though could pass as a human. Especially if you claimed to be from certain locales." His gaze appraising as if to confirm his suspicion.

"By the way, did you realise that creature off the ship was a ragon?" Neri glanced back as if half expecting it to be following them, "I'm sure you've heard the stories... tread carefully and carry a gun if you don't want to end up as lunch."

"A ragon?" He quirked an eyebrow and threw a glance over his shoulder. "Seems rather odd to ship something of that nature alongside the likes of us. I mean I know the circumstances of my false accusations and you don't seem to be leading a life of felony....outside a talent for purloining clothing."

"This is the first time I've stolen anything," Neri confessed, "And yes... the ragon is odd, but I think they think I was an armed rebel or something. So maybe we've been lumped in with the most dangerous people they had?" She shrugged, clearly Neri was guessing.

James mirrored the shrug. Tilting his brim slightly to ward off the sun.

"I guess the reasons for our false imprisonments are moot at this point. Given our unofficial pardons and our current situations." He conceded. "So what story shall we conjure up for the masses. So we don't out ourself within a second of entering the town proper."

"They aren't irrelevant," Neri shook her head, "We don't know who we can trust and who we can't, but it's not as if there's an easy way to figure this out. I'm going to stay on my guard."

"They'll probably have seen the ship landing and taking off," she thought for a moment, "So maybe we're colonists who've been robbed by whoever we'd chartered to take us to Caldera and we need some warm clothing for our companions?"

"A decent as any suggestion. Let us make haste then Miss Neri." His stride began to pick up.

---

While a few others headed toward town, CJ opted to stay with the stranger members of the crew, the ragon whose name she hadn't caught yet and... whatever Molybdenum was. She got the feeling it wasn't actually the skeleton talking to people, maybe some kind of... sentient gas? Questions for later. She stayed by them because looked pretty strange herself, she figured, what with the scars and the mismatched metal limbs. She'd definitely gotten some suspicious looks.

I approach the gathering of these beings slowly, towering over them. My talons remain closed, trying to not raise alarm as much as I could. "I hope I will not need to kill any of you." it was a diplomatic greeting, one that promised peace!

Well, that was reassuring. Kind of. CJ settled herself a short but respectful distance from the big lizard and tipped her hat - that she still didn't have, dammit - to them.

"Well, I do hope the same. In fact, I hope none of us get to killin' each other. Any rate, I'm called CJ. You care to share a name, big fella? Don't feel quite right just calling you 'the ragon' like some others do."

She chose not to make eye contact while waiting for an answer, instead watching the second pair as they headed for town and wondering when she ought to head that way - suspicious as they might look, she didn't care for the idea of standing out in the desert sun until the others came back.

Dusk’s gaze lingered on the group as it began to split, with the Dhasath girl Neri and the fellow human Castleton heading off while the others stayed behind... or worse, began arguing. Kim backing him up helped, it wasn't much but at least one other person here still thought like a soldier, not a scavenger.

The rest? There was little good to say. The marine exhaled slowly through his nose.

“Unbelievable…”

Maybe some of them did belong on that ship, Dusk thought to himself.

The Ragon was also a problem that began to settle on Dusk. It was big, bigger than what he had ever imagined even hunched. The thing's claws looked like they could peel a man open without effort.

He’d seen the briefings on them and the UN handbook flashed in his mind. All of that info was almost useless in the moment but he ran it through his mind.

Ragon: physical level 5, highly dangerous.
Engagement protocols: Avoid close contact. Avoid escalation. Avoid.

That was about it, not exactly helpful.

"I hope I will not need to kill any of you."

Dusk stared at it for a second, jaw tightening slightly.

Yeah, same here. His mind said.

He shifted his stance slightly, eyes never fully leaving the Ragon now.

Avoid. The protocol kept running in his mind.

He then glanced once toward the ridge, where the others had gone, then back to the group he was left with.

A walking hazard, a headless robot, a sentient gas suit and a Ragon trying to be polite about not killing them.

“…Great.”

He rolled his shoulders slightly, settling into it.

“If we’re stuck here for a bit, we ought to set up a camp to get some shade up. Scrub and sticks’ll do for now, as well as setting for a fireplace if need be."

A Collaboration Between El Gato Naranja and Momo

James and Neri hadn’t gotten too far before Charnud and Larce were able to catch them. Upon reaching the large house, however, the group decided it would be best not to do all their shopping at one store. While James and Neri took the house, Charnud and Larce headed for another property they spotted not too far off. Unfortunately, they weren’t greeted with a full unguarded clothes line once they arrived, but what could only be described as a crime scene.

The house, if it could still even be called that, was in ruin. Windows shattered, doors missing from the hinges, parts of the roof had even collapsed in. Most disturbingly of all, the walls were painted with the distinct scorch marks from blasters. Larce felt a chill run down his spine as he took everything in. Part of him screamed to get out of there, yet something about the eerie stillness of it all told him it was safe. Whatever had taken place was not a friendly gathering, but it was long over. Besides, there was no telling if they would find another opportunity like this. He had to at least check what was here.

Exercising extreme caution, his pace slowed with each step. The wood creaked under his shoes as he crept up to the front porch, echoing through the air as the only sound to be heard. After a brief pause waiting to see if his entrance had been noticed, Larce peered over the broken glass of the window.

The inside looked just as bad as the outside, but there didn’t seem to be any signs of life. Even the broken pieces of furniture scattered about had noticeable layers of dust and dirt on them. Whoever sacked this place hadn’t stayed, and whoever lived here never returned after. Confident they were alone, Larce signaled to Charnud to follow, and entered the home.

Their search didn’t last long. Anything of value had already been taken, and what was left wasn’t exactly in a usable state. By the end they managed to scrounge together a small pile of mismatched clothing in various sizes and conditions. It would be enough for them and a few others, but still wouldn’t cover the whole group or their more unusual companions.

“Well. First pick is ours.” Larce shrugged and began sifting through the pile. “So. ‘Political dissident monk’ was it? Gotta say, that’s a rather unusual combination.”

"I was a dissident before the other thing," Charnud replied. He bent over slightly under the doorway as he entered, such was his stretched out height. As he got indoors, the sky no longer felt like it was falling towards him, for he couldn't see it anymore. He inspected the pile of clothes along with Larce, quickly proceeding to take a pair of trousers and a shirt, both of them brown-ish in colour. Not the exact same shades of brown, but just well enough that they didn't look hideous together. Spotting a wide brim hat in the mix, he took it as well, putting it on his head.

"I was actually considered a fugitive for the things I said in network spaces," Charnud continued. "I entered a monastery first for the anonymity. They didn't ask who I was, just what I wanted to do. And I stayed there.”

“So you spoke your mind, realized the kiellar states don’t appreciate that, then hid behind the cover of religion to escape your past?” Larce shot a glance at the kiellar, reading his reaction to see how his summary of events landed before returning to the matter at hand. “I can respect that. Personally wouldn’t have chosen a monastery or really any religious institution myself, but I’ve done my fair share of running and hiding. Mostly because I’ve also pissed off the people in charge more times than I can count.”

After a bit more searching, Larce was finally able to find items close enough to his size. A white button up, worn work jeans, and a black vest. Surprisingly none of the hats or boots they found fit him, but given the population of this planet, it wouldn’t be hard to find some down the line. Not one to care about modesty, Larce immediately began changing into his new ensemble while continuing to chat.

“I assume that also means this will be your first time swindling? Think you’ll be able to handle it? Lying and cheating good folk isn’t something most people can do without losing sleep. Plus I’m sure your monk friends wouldn’t approve.”

"...swindling..." Charnud slowly repeated, as though he had heard the word for the very first time.

For a moment, he was back on the Nírnaeth Arnoediad's breaching pod, holding a pair of blaster pistols and suited up for combat in the airless vacuum of space. Behind him, other pirates readied themselves to bring chaos upon yet another hapless merchant vessel. He held his weapons and his head high, and let out a cry of victory before battle even begun.

Charnud snapped back into the present as he realized he hasn't really answered Larce's question. He blinked, and inspected the brim of the newly acquired hat, as if inspecting it for defects. Charnud nodded, slowly. "...I try my best.”

“Good. Because this isn’t just our best shot; it’s also our only shot. We screw this up… Well at least whatever end we meet would still be better than wherever that ship was taking us.” Larce couldn’t help but add humor despite the important point he was attempting to get across. It was always like that with him. No matter how dire the situation he could never fully treat it seriously.

Nearly fully dressed, Larce began buttoning up his shirt when he paused to inspect it a bit closer. “Great. I think this is a woman’s shirt… Eh. I can still pull it off.”

"Really? I couldn't tell." Charnud looked over at Larce, a hot pf humor in his voice. True to his word, the collar was a little too low for it to be a man's shirt. Or maybe it was just one of those v-neck shirts?

Ironically, jumpsuits like the ones he and his fellow prisoners wore were a much more familiar sight for him. Except that those jumpsuits were for mining workers, not prisoners.

Having finished changing as well, he noticed that between the two of them, he had more matching clothes. Charnud let out an amused sort. "It appears that I have divine favour on my side.”

“Oh yes. How could I forget the prophecy? The chosen one of the maker will be ordained by brown pants.” Larce chuckled as he slipped on his vest.

Hands on his hips, Larce took one last look around just in case he missed something. “Alright. I think we’re ready to rendezvous with the other two. We can circle back here to collect the rest after we hit town… Actually. One second.”

Larce darted through the door and into the bedroom. After a brief moment of struggle, he emerged with an old bed sheet he had wrestled from the mattress. “Let’s wrap everything up real quick. It'll be easier to grab on our way back. Plus we don't have anything for our ragon friend. Maybe they could use this as a toga.”

"Very well," Charnud nodded. He took the old bed sheet and placed the pile of clothes in it; not in a haphazard dumping manner, but with a measure of care that only someone used with doing laundry would have. He was quite efficient with the bedsheet, pulling the four corners together into a knot that was both easy to untie and also wouldn't fall apart a few minutes after it's been left alone.

With that done, he padded his hands together, as though congratulating himself and Larce for a job well done. "It is done, then. Let's proceed.”

Kim Saeyeon and John Dusk
Cowrite between @Badarby and @InfamousGuy101

Dusk didn’t bother waiting on the rest. If they were staying even a short while, they needed shade. He moved off and started gathering what he could find; dry brush, sticks, a few solid rocks.

He began setting up a rough frame with a couple fallen logs. He noticed Kim stepping in to help and gave her a nod. “Appreciate it.”

As they shifted one of the logs into place, he kept his voice low, enough so she could hear him. “Between you and me, I don’t see this group lasting long. Too many different agendas.”

He adjusted the frame, then grabbed another armful of brush.

Kim shrugged as she squatted down to grab an armful of brush. “We are all out in a desert with just our prison clothes on, left abandoned by the ship transporting us to another prison camp,” she said. “We’re all just surviving, unsure what will happen if we’re found by the locals.” She stood back up.

“Though I imagine that giant lizard is probably not going to be of much to us.”

Dusk shook his head slightly, keeping his hands busy with the frame.

“Yeah, I don’t like it either. It’s calm now, but it’s still the biggest threat out here and everyone’s thinking it.”

He glanced briefly toward the Ragon, quickly his eyes returned to his task.

“We should keep our distance from it. Humans aren't very appealing to them from what I heard but any animal hungry enough will eat just about anything..."

He took short pause. “Soon as we can, we should find a way off this rock. Hopefully that town’s got a port or something that gets us back to UN space.”

“I imagine any way out would require a lot of money which we don’t have,” Kim responded, wiping part of her face with her left sleeve. “Unless help of any sort comes quickly, we’re stuck in this place for some time and I don’t have high hopes of a quick way out.”

“Yeah… it won’t be cheap.," Dusk agreed as he packed more brush into place. "But we can work something out. Talk to the locals, trade labor and such... We’re still UN at the end of the day.”

He made a faint smirk. “Guess this is where the whole hearts and minds thing comes in.”

He straightened a bit, glancing toward the ridge again. "If we can’t buy a way out maybe we find another way to get word out. Comms, traffic, anything. UN’s gotta be looking for missing personnel.”

“I wouldn’t keep my hopes up for that,” she replied, shaking her head. “Earth isn’t exactly the big boys in this galaxy and I don’t think we’re the only missing UN personnel dispersed here. We might be the lucky ones who were let go by our captors in this desert world instead of slaving away at a camp.”

Dusk let out a small breath as he pressed another layer of brush into place.

“Yeah… fair enough,” he admitted. “Could be worse.”

He adjusted one of the logs, giving it a firm push to settle it with a grunt.

“Could be breaking our backs in some camp instead of out here,” He gave Kim a dry almost sarcastic smirk. “Now we just get to choose between working for scraps, starving, or cooking alive in this heat. Real upgrade.”

“Well at a labor camp, you’d be doing all that including a beating from the guards for not meeting quota,” Kim replied. “Though depending on the location, you might be freezing to death instead. Having been transferred from one, this is slightly an improvement.”

Dusk paused for a second at that, hands resting on the frame.

“You were at one?” There was a genuine surprise in his tone now. He glanced at her, then back at the structure as he adjusted a branch into place.

“What’s it like?” he asked, genuinely curious. “The camps, I mean.”

“It’s hell,” Saeyeon answered, recounting her experience. “Working under grueling conditions in the cold. Beatings were common from both guards and inmates alike, especially since the camp tied rations and certain privileges to quotas. Deaths at the camp weren’t uncommon. If you die, someone else will be pushed in to take your place.

“I’d probably be stuck in that camp until I die if it wasn’t for her,” she added, closing her eyes.

"Her?" Dusk asked, listening attentively.

“Vesol of Rirbrach, a Kiellar inmate,” she replied. “When we first met, we fought but we struck up a friendship since we were forced to share our cells. She was the one who lead the uprising in the camp.

“We pretended to be in a fistfight to distract a guard which set up a chain of events that lead to the entire camp breaking out,” Kim added. “We overwhelmed the guards with numbers and weapons that we made ourselves or stole from the armory.

“Thought we had a chance to escape, hotwire some vehicles, and taste freedom,” she said. “But the guards had reinforcements showing up in armored vehicles and when they arrived, most of us were gunned down. Haven’t seen Vesol since the guards came with reinforcements and because the camp was on fire, the survivors were rounded up, separated from each other, and shipped off to other camps. I was alone when they move me with you guys. Guess I was lucky that I ended up here instead.”

Dusk didn't say anything right away.

He stood there, one hand resting against the shelter frame, staring past the brush as Kim finished speaking. He’d heard rumors about camps like that, but hearing it laid out like that… it hit different.

“…Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at her.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think that was just luck,” he said. “People don’t walk out of something like that on luck alone. You held on. Fought through it. That’s what got you here and to freedom in a certain way...”

He shifted slightly, his boot scraping the dirt.

“I was on my way to one too,” he added. “Perhaps we both would've been in the same one, lead our own uprising...”

A faint, humorless breath left him.

“I wonder if anyone from my unit did… or if they’re stuck out there like me.”

His face formed into a slight melancholic glare.

“Feels wrong, being here when they probably aren’t,” he admitted. “Like I got handed something they didn’t.”

He shook it off, just slightly.

“But if we both made it out,” Dusk said, looking back at her. “Then we might as well make it count.”

"Call it luck or not, we're not in such camps anymore," she said. "While I'm not sure of our chances in this part of the world in this part of the galaxy far away from home; we are free at the end of the time. Free but limited in our options which we'll have to take our chances with the people with us.

"And don't feel bad that you're here while your comrades are not," Kim continued. "Perhaps there could be an opportunity for you to come back and save your comrades but right now, the best thing you can do is to survive and make it out."

"Perhaps," Dusk nodded. "Well I guess you're right that we'll have to take our chances, but if we work together like you and I then hopefully that will get us out of here sooner than not."

"And hey," he added. "after this whole thing is over, I owe you a beer at my favorite place back in San Diego..."

"I'll take you up on that offer if I'm ever in Southern California," Kim replied, giving a small smile. "And I owe you a beer and fried chicken if you ever find yourself in South Korea when we're back home. And I'm buying"