Cowritten by Enmuni and Bingelly

---

At the first sign of shade, Ruvulla was quick to muscle her way in, making no particular effort to invite others to join her. Save for Vaehach. She waved to get his attention, then struck her hip with her fist and raised an open palm in a common Command greeting.

"Come, join me," she beckoned, "We haven't been properly introduced."

Vaheach nodded, then returned her greeting in turn. He quickly struck his own hip and raised his open palm.

"No, we haven't," he answered curtly as he approached. "Vaehach aep Samla."

“Ruvulla aep Rarvaum,” she replied. “It’s some luck we’re having, isn’t it? Released, yet on a desolate world, and with a Ragon, among other things.”

She sighed, “And there’s cooperation…for the time being. Good, all things considered, but by what you’ve said, I gather you share my concerns about organization. I take it you’ve seen your share of war as well?”

"Do the Gods quarrel?" He sighed. "Yes, I fought. I've been fighting for almost my entire life."

“Right,” she grimly agreed, “So we’re in similar positions. I’ve seen enough to know that we’re not in an ideal manpower situation. With the Ragon, yes, but I’m sure you’ve noticed we’ve got other problems too. Which will impact our chances negatively.”

She tilted her head expectantly, clearly hoping for some particular sort of answer.

"Chances of what?" He cocked an eyebrow. "There are three choices ahead of all of us. Die, stay on this dustbowl, or get off-world somehow. Most of the lot will want to take the third option."

“Yes, and to get there, of course, we’ll have to survive. Let me put it to you this way. I’m not just a soldier. I’m a doctor. I’ve seen a lot of different sorts during and since the War,” she explained quietly, “And I’ve never seen anything like that thing that ran off. Or the skeleton in the spacesuit. We don’t know what they’re going to do. And these humans? They still don’t know what they’re facing here. So about half of this group is unpredictable. Then you factor in the Ragon, who may be tame, for now, but who could very well change its mind. And the Dhasath, the Dhasath look out for the Dhasath first, Vaehach. You know that. Which leaves us. We need to be aware of our position. I, for one, have been an adult longer than most of these people will ever live. If you’re the same, we both have experience. We both know better than most here what we need to do in order to get off this rock. And so on. We need to make sure we’re heard, and that we back each other up. You know?”

"Naturally Ruvulla," he nodded. "But I will feel far more comfortable once I have a blaster, a bayonet or, better yet, both in my hand. Until then, I don't expect to outfight either the locals or our travelling companions should they be provoked. I also don't favor my chances breaking off alone here, nor should you. Cohesion is built over time, and a squad needs to work together to survive the enemy."

“Correct. I just want you to be aware that I intend to watch your back. We can’t know what these others might think is a good idea,” she affirmed, “I just already heard one of the human soldiers—” She said the word with a hint of derision. “Whinging about what we’ve got to do. There’s no telling if they’ll go rogue, you know. As I understand it, they’ve got a lot of media that glorifies lone actors going rogue. Something to keep an eye out for.”

"Duly noted," Vaehach chuckled lowly.

“But that’s just my assessment. I’m sure you have your own,” she added, “If you’re willing to share, of course.”

"They'll adapt or they'll die." He answered bluntly. "Just as we have to the latest situations. I believe them to be an adaptable people, just as the Dhasath. Aging and dying as early as they do, it shifts the perspective."

“Let’s hope they leave those planetary mindsets behind promptly,” Ruvulla affirmed.

Eventually, the intensifying slope of the ridge turned Bandit’s headlong sprint into a jog, then a trudge, before the grade finally grew so steep that she couldn’t continue without the aid of her hands. From there she ascended one handhold or foothold at a time, careful to not slip on loose dirt or put her full weight on a loose rock. Her digitigrade legs, with their more prominent knees, made it more difficult to climb vertically. The thrusters built into her calves, however, meant she could skip tricky sections with a well-aimed, short lived boost that effectively gave her a double jump. Sadly, as fun as flipping through the air was, Bandit knew she needed to ration her energy until she could lay her hands on some battery packs. Plus, having an optic in the front of her collab limited her ability to look upward, so the climb wasn’t without its challenges. Still, as a TABS-EVA unit built to withstand the rigors of asteroid mining in the vacuum of space, a little rock was nothing she couldn’t handle.

A few minutes later, Bandit finally reached a high point in the ridge. Not quite the tippity-top, but still a good vantage point, and bare except for a couple scrubby, nigh-colorless bushes. She didn’t need to breathe, technically, but based on how much her climb had drained her batteries, using her voicebox to gasp and wheeze felt appropriate. “Haah! Haah! Haah!” After a couple seconds spent stooped over and heaving with her hands on her knees, she wiped the grit from her lens with the back of her hand and straightened up to gaze out across the arid, xeric shrubland. Yep…it sure was a rugged, barren wasteland, a trackless expanse of sandy, rocky brown dotted with dark or pale green. She could see some mesas, spires, and mountains in the distance, but what concerned her most lay much closer: the town.

From here, Bandit felt pretty confident that nobody could really see her. Or if they did, they at least probably wouldn’t know what the heck they were looking at. Unfortunately, she couldn’t really see them either. For all the useful functions built into her multipurpose body, long-range observation wasn’t one of them; even without a lot of desert dust in her eye, the android could make out little other than the vague, grayish-brown outlines of buildings and dark gray machines, maybe pumps of some kind. Those dark patches that adorned many of the roofs were probably solar panels, meant to make the most of the brutal sunlight out here.

Bandit crouched down amongst the bushes, hesitating. Though she sprinted this way with an awful lot of confidence, the fact of the matter was that she knew pretty much nothing about how things worked down here. She’d gotten a feel for how scrappers and spacers operated during her time up in the wild black yonder, but she’d had her fair share of painful learning experiences. What if these settlers were the shoot first, ask questions later type? Honestly, she was pretty intimidated. Maybe…it’d be smart to stick with the others.

Turning this way and that, Bandit looked around. Wait, where were the others?

When she looked back down the ridge, she found the bulk of them right about where she left them. Right…organics couldn’t move as fast as she could, especially in such an inhospitable environment. Making up her mind, Bandit began to retrace her steps and climb back down to rejoin the prisoners. At least going down was much easier, especially with shock-absorbing legs.

A few minutes later, Bandit trotted back up to the main group of prisoners. Some had taken a detour, headed in the direction of some dilapidated homesteads the android hadn’t noticed. Others, like the white-haired kiellar woman and the pale cyborg, were gone altogether. Bandit spotted a makeshift shelter constructed from badland debris, which surprised her, given Vaehach’s bellowed command earlier. Maybe he wasn’t quite as in charge as he thought he’d been?

Regardless, Bandit gave the group a wave. “Hey y’all. Scuse me for runnin’ off, I guess I got the wrong impression. Got an eyeful of that town over yonder. It’s a li’l on the rough an’ tumble side. Figured that waltzin’ in there all on my lonesome ain’t gonna give the best impression, hehe...” She scratched at her headless neck self-consciously, trying to play it cool and not suggest that she’d just been too chicken to go any further. “So, uh…whatcha up to?”

co-written between @InfamousGuy101, @Bingelly and @Enmuni

---

Dusk stepped back from the canopy, giving it a quick once-over before wiping his hands on his fatigues. It wasn’t much, but it was coming along. His eyes then drifted toward the shade nearby.

Two Kiellar stood out immediately, they were talking and watching.

He caught their glance, maybe it was directed at him, maybe not. Hard to tell.

Either way, they weren’t exactly blending in with the rest, or helping. Dusk exhaled quietly, then made his way over.

“Hey,” he called out, stopping a few paces short.

“We’ve got a canopy going up over there. Enough for a few people, not all of us yet.”

He jerked a thumb back toward the half-built shelter, “Could use another set of hands making it bigger.”

A brief pause, grimmacing at the sunlight's glare, “No point standing around cooking out here if we don’t have to.”

Ruvulla’s eyes snapped to Dusk, then towards the precious shade she had acquired for herself and her fellow Kiel.

“Indeed. Hence the shade,” she responded matter-of-factly.

Dusk's expression tightening just slightly. The answer from the Kiel was not something he had expected.

“Yeah,” he nodded once. “And we’re trying to make more of it.”

He glanced back toward the canopy, then back to her.

“Not just for a few people but for everyone.”

His tone stayed even, but it was clear there was a hint of hold back frustration in it as the sun kept searing the back of his neck.

“We’re all stuck out here the same. Whole group does better if we actually act like one.”

"This is temporary," Vaehach interjected, "The others should be back before sundown, then we go into town and find water and work... and hopefully air conditioning. Sit down and take a break."

The male kiellar looked over to the half built structure and sighed. "It beats sweating to death."

Dusk’s jaw set for a moment, but he let it pass.

“Maybe,” he said, keeping his tone level, “Still better to have something than nothing if they’re late.”

He shifted his weight slightly, then straightened, “Name’s Dusk by the way, United States Marines."

He approached the male Kiel and extended a hand.

"Didn’t really get a proper introduction earlier.”

Vaehach's eyes darted to Ruvulla. His left-hand rapped against his thigh again as he stood before he returned his attention to the interloper. The sands shifted slightly under his weight.

Stepping forward, he firmly cusped the human's forearm in his hand in a rapid motion. "Vaehach aep Samla."

Ruvulla followed Vaehach’s example and stood, but offered no handshake. “Ruvulla aep Rarvaum,” she drawled.

She looked Dusk up and down properly, then made sudden, piercing eye contact. “I gather you’re a human, then? So what brought you all the way out here?”

Dusk blinked once at the grip, then returned it, adjusting to the forearm clasp without hesitation.

“Good to meet you," he didn't bother trying to pronounce the name but gave the Kiel a solid nod.

He let go and his attention soon shifted to Ruvulla. He caught her measured if a bit cold look, but didn’t react to it.

“You gathered right,” he said, “Human."

He smirked as he seemed proud to say that.

“UN convoy detail. Part of Earth's humanitarian support to help stabilize our sister Galaxy, help everyone we can, whatever species they may be. 'Every world matters', that's our motto. Wasn’t the heat that brought me, that’s for sure.” There was a faint edge of dry humor in his voice.

He straightened a bit, "Unfortunately it seems not everyone is in agreement with what we're doing and my unit fell under attack... I survived."

A brief pause, then he glanced between the two of them.

“What about you?”

Ruvulla smiled. It shifted as Dusk explained his background from wry to one of condescending feigned sincerity, like that of an adult listening to a child explain something.

“My research station was raided.” Her smile faded, replaced by the same firm, cold blankness that her initial introduction had offered. “A shame we lost as many great minds to a raid by some vainglorious warlord-aspirant.”

Vaehach neutrally listened to the other two. His expression remained impassive, or perhaps he was simply unimpressed with the human.

"I was just a prisoner of war. I was at the wrong place at wrong time. " he added bluntly. "I'm far from the only one in the galaxy with that story.

Dusk listened without interrupting, eyes moving between the two as they spoke.

“Yeah…” he nodded at Ruvulla, “Too many people out there looking to take instead of build. Doesn’t really change no matter the galaxy.”

He gave her a softer look in spite of her blank, almost unsettling stare.

"I'm sorry about your people. Losing minds like that…” he shook his head slightly, "That’s the kind of loss that sticks. But maybe you can still put that to good use out here. Help someone those who need it.”

His attention shifted to Vaehach, there was a bit more familiarity in his tone.

“POW, huh? Pretty much the same for me,” A faint smirk, “Guess you and I are not so different then.”

He shifted his stance, “Either way, we’re all here now.”

A short pause, he glabced back at the canopy then bsck to the pair, “Shade’s coming together, but it’s not enough yet. Could use the help of two good people like yourselves,” He gave a smile, “Whole group benefits if we get it done quicker.”

“Best practices would be to let the Dhasath continue building while the rest of you rest in what shade there already is,” Ruvulla advised, “They’re more suited to this heat than you or I. And, if you’re anticipating we’ll need shelter, then you’ll also know people will need to keep watch at night. Kiellar are most suited. Thus, we’ve been resting here in anticipation.”

Vaehach seemed to stew for a moment. Heavy eyebrows frowned deeply, and his tongue slipped freely.

"So you've seen a Ragon tear your comrades apart in the melee, Dusk?" He nearly sneared, and cocked an eyebrow inquistitorally. "Disembowling them? Tearing limbs off whole? Or perhaps you have seen the aftermath of an orbital bombardment on a urban block?

Ruvulla let out a dry, cold laugh as her eyes narrowed. “Indeed. I lost siblings and cousins in the Ragon War. And now? I have children who are dead. Children who I’ve had to fight. To kill. And to say nothing of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren. And I’m a combat medic by training. Not infantry. Not artillery.”

She held her hands up expectantly.

“You’ve gotten a taste, maybe, if that, but you’d do well not to pretend you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. We’ve fought to the death on more planets than you may well have ever even seen in your brief existence. You’d do well to remember that.”

Dusk didn’t answer right away. Vaehach’s words hit, but it was Ruvulla’s that lingered. The way she said it, what she described and the subtle scorn in her voice towards the human.

For a moment, the marine just looked at her, something unsettled crossing his expression before he pushed it down.

“Yeah,” he said finally, pursing his dry lips, “I haven’t seen what you’ve seen. Not like that.”

He gulped and resdjusted his thoughts.

“But I’ve seen enough to know war is a terrible thing..."

He meet their gazes again, as if holding his ground.

“I’m still a soldier. Same as you and right now that means putting our differences aside and focusing on staying alive.”

He glanced between them, then back toward the canopy.

“That’s all I’m trying to do. Didn’t mean to step on anything,” he added, more subdued in his tone, “If I did, that’s on me.”

He took a step back, “We’ll have a fire going by nightfall. You both are welcome to it.”

Dusk gave a small nod, then turned away, heading back toward the canopy without another word.

Vaehach sighed deeply as he watched the human turn away. He slowly returned sat back down in the cool sand under their scrap of shade.

"Only the young and the foolish are proud of their service," Vaehach muttered as he turned his gaze upward to the sky. "I fear he might be both, but I hope he finds some comfort in it."

Cowritten with @Lugubrious, @Awesomoman64, @Terrans, @El Gato Naranja

Neri jumped slightly at the robot's approach, apparently having been lost in thought. However, the look of surprise was quickly transformed into an easy, friendly smile as she turned to face Bandit, "You gave me a fright," she confessed, "We found some clothes," she motioned at herself, at the too-big shirt worn open over a singlet and the burgundy skirt she was now wearing, "So I don't look like I just escaped from a prison ship. People should be a bit friendlier I reckon. What did you see of the locals? Someone had said there's a lot of dhasath on this planet."

"Uh..." Bandit froze for a moment while scratching her neck, then clasped her hands behind her back, beneath her tarpaulin cloak. "If I'm bein' honest, I didn't get all that close. They don't look friendly though, that's for dang sure. S'why I high-tailed it back to y'all lickety-split. Gonna have to play this real careful-like."

The android leaned forward a little to get a better view of the clothes Neri had procured. Even decapitated, Bandit stood four inches taller than the dhasath sanitation worker, so it probably didn't feel great for Neri to have the machine in her personal space. Of course, the realization that Bandit might just be a bit nearsighted might complicate the matter. "Yer clothes ain't half bad," she admitted with what might have been an approving nod if she had a head. "You reckon I could make a skirt work? Most folks ain't keen on me in clothes, no matter what I try..."

“As much as I would love to talk about fashion,” Larce interjected as he stepped between Nari and Bandit. “I think we have a bigger issue right about here.” Larce gestured to the gaping void on the android where normally a head would go. ”There's not a skirt in this system that would distract someone enough to not notice that. We’re gonna need something to at least give the illusion of a head on your shoulders. Then we can work out which bottoms compliment your figure best.”

"Nah," Neri shook her head in disagreement, "I reckon keep the clothes off for now. We don't want to freak anyone out and they're more likely to if they see a headless person than if they see a robot tragically damaged in the crash," she shrugged, "Or at least that's how I'd react."

For a moment Bandit had been puzzled by both how she could possibly falsify having a head, and why she needed to. Did people on this planet hate robots or something? Sure, robots could cause an awful lot of indiscriminate death and destruction, but that was hardly the robots' fault; that was on the people who programmed them if anything. At least, Bandit thought so, and not being culpable for any of her wrongdoings was pretty liberating.

When Neri offered a different spin on the situation, Bandit gave a thumbs-up. Her three flat fingers, one opposing the others, weren't all that dextrous, but this was one gesture they could make recognizably. "Yeah, damaged in the crash!" she repeated. "That's me, ol' damaged goods. All busted up, barely trottin' along. I mean, it's ain't even a lie. I been like this about as long as I can remember. Everythin' from my early years is mighty fuzzy...ugh, whenever I try an' access them ol' memories, I get a headache somethin' fierce..." She raised a hand as if to press her palm to her brow, only for it to go through where her head would be. (edited)Sunday, 26 April 2026 02:25

“Alright.” Larce tossed his hands up and shook his head. “But we gotta be careful. Some people view robots as commodities; self aware or not. These people see us with a functional bot, something that can provide cheap labor or be a convenient source of spare parts, and what would have been a charitable donation could turn into a barter like that.” He punctuated his final statement with a crisp snap of his fingers.

Larce shot a glance at the two, seeing if his words had any impact, when he noticed the oversized shirt Nari had on. He quickly looked down at his own tight fitting shirt then back again before shrugging and moving on.

It wasn't lost on Neri though, she focussed on his shirt, then looked down then down at herself, "Want to swap?" she suggested, motioning at the two garments.

“I don’t know. This shirt really highlights my frame.” Larce placed his hands on his hips and pulled his shoulders back as if he were modeling his outfit before dropping right back into his normal pose. “But if it helps sell our story, I guess I can take the plaid.”

"Well if you like it, keep it on," Neri gave a dry laugh, "I can't see anyone complaining."

"Barter? Psh!" Bandit scoffed, crossing her arms as she brought them back to the irritating prior topic. "Ya can't trade what ya don't own, partner. I ain't anyone's bargainin' chip! And nobody's gettin' their hands on my parts neither, least without buyin' me dinner first, hehheh."

“And if we pull this off, dinner might actually be a possibility.” Larce smirked. “But that's precisely my point: I’m not looking to sell anyone, but the locals might not see it that way. If they think we have the system’s most advanced farmhand with us, they’ll be less likely to give us free scraps and instead try to make a trade. And when we turn them down, it’ll give the impression we aren’t as desperate as we claimed.”

As the drifter's meaning sank in, Bandit's indignant posture turned more embarrassed. "Oh, uh...well... guess we'll just have to convince 'em I ain't good for much, huh? Hehheh..." She chuckled nervously, imagining a bunch of greedy bumpkins pulling her limb from limb. "Maybe I oughta keep quiet and let y'all do the talkin'."

“What? And deprive us of that exotic accent of yours? Not a chance.” Larce chuckled and gave Bandit a friendly jab in the arm. “We just gotta come up with a good cover… Is it too late to pretend we’re a traveling circus? Would have explained the matching jumpsuits.”

"Well, I think between the three of us, we should be able to convince them to give us just about anything," Neri declared, nodding towards James, who was standing some distance away, peering at something on the horizon, "So could he for that matter."

Neri's statement sounded pretty optimistic to Bandit. Sweet-talking wasn't really her strong suit, unlike Larce. Speaking of, the man seemed fond of the android's voice, which tickled her pink even though she couldn't really express it. "Aw, you like it?" If she could smile, Bandit might have been beaming. "I was hopin' folks would like it! Made it myself, figured it suited this dusty ol' countryside we're in." She liked this guy already; hopefully he hadn't hurt his fist with that little jab of his, it did make a pretty solid clonk sound. As for the matter of swapping clothes, Bandit didn't pay it much mind.

“Well countryside or not, it suits you.” Larce gave the android a wink, then turned away as he let out a silent ow and rubbed his knuckles.

"Anyway..." Neri began to walk in the direction of town, waiting a beat for the others to join her before continuing, "Our story is 'oh woe is us, our ship crashed. The survivors need food, clothes, first aid etc. We get what we can then hurry back to feed the Ragon before it eats someone, dish out the clothes then head back into town... hmm... anyone got a good name for our imaginary ship? We should probably do a bit of work to make sure our stories line up."

That one threw Bandit for a loop for a few seconds. "Uh, I reckon I ain't exactly the imaginin' type. But lemme see if I can think of anythin'." Tensing up, she redirect more power to her CPU momentarily, scanning her banks for any traces of old data that might be usable for the outlaws' purposes. With most of her core logic and database lost along with her head, Bandit's efforts were akin to lifting up couch cushions to look for loose change, with no idea when or how those coins got there in the first place. After a few seconds of desperate recollection, though, she managed to dredge something up from the depths of her fractured psyche: a meaningless remnant, like a muscle memory, something she didn't even know she knew, "Ti...Tien...Tiongedol? Dunno if it means anythin', but it sure sounds Kiellar, don't it?" Although a little dazed by her efforts, Bandit attempted to cross her arms in a confident pose, proud of her suggestion.

Neri considered the name, then shrugged, "Sound's good to me! Tiongedol it is. Well unless there's anything else, I suggest we make our way into town. Best not to keep the Ragon waiting."

“As good a story as any I suppose.” James chimed in as he fell in alongside them, adjusting his hat based off his shadow. Flexing his shoulders to settle the duster just so.

"It's a rather distasteful story, truth be told," Charnud suddenly spoke up, having spent the last few minutes simply catching his breath from all that walking previously. Gravity was quite the oppressive mistress. "Because... Tiongedol means something close to... 'Golden Bitch.'" He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "I've seen worse names, though. I once saw a smuggler ship called No Contraband. It is quite fitting, really. We can just change it later if the others don't like it." Seeing the others' confused looks, he threw up his arms and shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm the Kiellar here, so when it comes to words that sound Kiellar, I'm a valid source. Your nanites must be broken if you don't get that." (edited)Friday, 1 May 2026 22:43

Larce’s blank stare of disbelief slowly morphed into a wide childish grin. “I was on board when it was Kiellar gibberish, but now we absolutely have to use it. Now come on, Golden Bitches.” With a heel turn and a two finger point in the town’s direction, Larce began walking toward their destination. “We got a job to do.”

"Yeah," Neri agreed, "I kinda like it... though I'll need further proof my translators are busted. Though if anyone calls me a golden bitch," she puffed herself up as if about to make a threat, before deflating again, "I'll politely point out they're blind. My hair is, in fact , quite dark."

...

Cinder Ridge was mostly populated by dhasath. They didn't exactly seem thrilled to see newcomers, but the presence of two of their own species (and one maybe - James got some VERY suspicious looks) was enough to get them to begrudgingly hand over some food and clothes and a small selection of medical supplies. Enough that they could get the others out of their prison jumpsuits. Apart from the ragon. Nobody donated anything in ragon size and nobody was silly enough to ask.

As morning gave way to early afternoon, Neri and the others reappeared with the rest of the group, "I come bearing gifts!" she declared, nodding towards the bundle of clothing and food she was carrying, "Once you're changed I reckon our best bet is to head into town and look for odd jobs to do. I imagine we'll need to start buying our food soon enough."

As morning gave way to early afternoon, Neri and the others reappeared with the rest of the group, "I come bearing gifts!" she declared, nodding towards the bundle of clothing and food she was carrying, "Once you're changed I reckon our best bet is to head into town and look for odd jobs to do. I imagine we'll need to start buying our food soon enough."

John looked up as the group returned.

For a moment, he was still half stuck on the conversation with the Kiellar. The way they spoke and the way they had looked at him, like he was some child who had wandered too far from home. Maybe in their eyes he was, but that did not make their attitude any less irritating.

He pushed it aside though, there were more immediate problems.

Neri had come back with food, clothes, and enough supplies to make the situation slightly less miserable. That alone was more than he had expected.

“Well I’ll be damned…” Dusk muttered.

He glanced toward Kim, lowering his voice a little.

“Part of me wants to ask how they got all that,” he said, eyeing the bundle of clothes, “Other part of me knows we don’t have a lot of room to complain right now.”

He moved over and sorted through what had been brought back, finally finding a pair of brown trousers and a grey button-up shirt that looked close enough to his size. The prison rags came off without hesitation. They had already worn out their welcome.

The boots stayed, those were still his.

The last thing he picked up was a worn, flat-brimmed hat with a curled edge and a pinched front. It had seen better days, but it sat low enough to keep the sun off his face.

Dusk adjusted it once, then gave a faint dry smirk.

“Guess we’re really leaning into the frontier look now.”

He looked toward Neri as she mentioned finding odd jobs in town and gave a small nod.

“That’s probably our best move. Labor, hauling, repairs, whatever they need done.”

Then he glanced back to Kim.

“With our background, maybe security too,” he added, the faint smirk still there, “'Guns for hire,' if this place is as Western as it looks.”

He tugged the hat down slightly against the glare.

Saeyeon Kim

Neri and her group's arrival was well timed and the clothes and food are welcome surprises. Dusk begins to speak to her with lowered voices.

"No we don't," came her reply as she walked towards the pile of clothes to replace her jumpsuit with. She picked up a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans and got dressed. They luckily fit her figure and that's all she could ask for at this point, a clean pair of clothing that fit.

Neri talked about heading over to the town to do some odd jobs and Saeyeon nodded. If they're gonna be in this place for a while, they would need ways to earn money for now and if she can get away from the place and the ragon, that would be swell.

Saeyeon shrugged when Dusk talked about security work.

"I mean, we don't have any weapons on us to do such work for now," she said, as she considers other possible career options.

"Captain" James Castleton

As they distributed their semi ill-gotten garments and supplies; James took a moment to gander. Enjoying the unspoiled landscape and the (to him) alien sky above.

Of course such sightseeing came at the knowledge that undeveloped land this beautiful was lacking in the necessities of survival. And possibly also possessed wildlife in forms that made the creatures of Australia of Earth look tame.

That is if the Ragon in their midst didn't kill them all.

He was going to need some weapons at some point. He would need a map but he was sure that he had a few stash points hidden around this planet somewhere. Planet side affairs he had left for oversized goods and bulk orders to save on cargo space.

Decent kit all in all. He just needed to get an opportunity to get away...

He panned a look around his companions. Keeping on eye on the Jarhead and the ROK-head; they would be the ones to catch him out if any.

His erstwhile companions from the supply run would be his best bet. He ambled nonchalantly beside Neri and Larce.

"Now that our assemblage is properly attired. What's say we begun our journey to the town. I don't know about you but I feel a drink is in order to celebrate our unofficial pardons."

He shot what he hoped was a sly grin at Neri.

"You miss can buy me a drink even."

And maybe while he was there and his group was drunk he could slip off to pilfer a cache.

@Awesomoman64 @Dyelli Beybi

The town looked mostly deserted in the midday heat. Even the dhasath had taken themselves to the shade. The odd person could be seen sitting out the front of a shop, eyeing the group suspiciously from under the brim of wide-brimmed hats. A lot of them were openly carrying weapons on their hips, blasters or smaller ragon guns.

There sounded like there was some life at the saloon. The sound of a stereo and the rise and fall of animated conversation. Apparently that was where people congregated during the day.

Neri pushed open the doors, stepping through into the interior of the wooden building, her new boots clumping on the floorboards. A few people looked up curiously - she wasn't recognised, but there was no overt hostility.

There was slight rise in suspicion as Castleton and Dusk entered. A few muttered comments. Something wasn't right, but it was Kim who seemed to seal the deal. There was a hiss of angry muttered conversation that seemed to pass around the room with her entry. The barman looked up at that, his eyes flicking between members of the group, "You lot aren't welcome here!" he growled, pointing to the door, though apparently the option of a rapid retreat was not available to them as in the intervening space two large men had moved to block that route.

One cracked his knuckles menacingly.

Neri did a quick head count. Including the barman there were a dozen people here who seemed ready for a fight, dhasath and a few kiellar, a few others were skulking off. But why? "I think there's been a misunder-" she didn't get a chance to finish as someone yet out an enraged yell, hurling a bottle at her, which she swayed to avoid, feeling the brush of air over her nose. He gave a growl of rage and charged, fists balled as if ready to punch her.

The move seemed to encourage others and faster than one could have clicked one's fingers, the otherwise peaceful morning turned into a fist fight.

John had to admit the clothes helped, even if a little. The locals would've likely been much more suspicious of them upon entering the town if they had been wearing the prison clothes, he was still unsure of their true origin but for now he'd have to settle with it.

As the group made its way into town, Dusk found himself studying the place with a soldier's eye. The streets were dusty, it was mostly weathered wooden buildings and the locals watched from shaded porches with weapons resting openly on their hips.

Not exactly the sort of place that screamed "major transportation hub."

If there was a way off-world here, it wasn't obvious. Still, it beat sitting in the desert waiting to die of exposure.

The saloon was the first place that looked remotely alive. The sounds of conversation and music spilled out through the swinging doors, drawing the group inside. Dusk stepped through after Neri, they were faced with a dozen faces all looking at them almost immediately as they stepped in.

At first, it seemed manageable. Curious looks followed them, but nothing unusual. They were strangers in a small town so this much was expected.

Then Kim when walked through the door the mood changed instantly. Dusk felt it before he fully understood it.

Murmurs swirled and the suspicious eyes narrowed.

The hairs on the back of the marine's neck stood up.

His gaze drifted across the room, trying to figure out what had triggered the reaction. Before he could, the bartender slammed a hand against the counter.

[quote=@Dyelli Beybi]
[center]

"You lot aren't welcome here!" he growled, pointing to the door, though apparently the option of a rapid retreat was not available to them as in the intervening space two large men had moved to block that route.

One cracked his knuckles menacingly.

Neri did a quick head count. Including the barman there were a dozen people here who seemed ready for a fight, dhasath and a few kiellar, a few others were skulking off. But why? "I think there's been a misunder-" she didn't get a chance to finish as someone yet out an enraged yell, hurling a bottle at her, which she swayed to avoid, feeling the brush of air over her nose. He gave a growl of rage and charged, fists balled as if ready to punch her.

The move seemed to encourage others and faster than one could have clicked one's fingers, the otherwise peaceful morning turned into a fist fight.
[/quote]

Dusk reacted before he even thought about it as his foot slammed into the attacker's ribs with a solid thud. The man folded sideways and crashed into the floorboards, skidding across the room in a cloud of dust.

The entire saloon exploded as people surged to their feet, toppling chairs and throwing punches.

The fight spread through the room like a brushfire.

"Son of a bitch."

A large dhasath was already bearing down on Dusk, they swung hard. Dusk slipped inside the punch as his own fist sailed past and he drove an elbow into the attacker's jaw.

The impact snapped the man's head sideways and Dusk shoved him backward.

The dhasath stumbled into a table, sending drinks, cards, and furniture crashing to the floor. People were fighting everywhere now.

The Marine lowered his center of gravity and raised his hands instinctively.

The day had started with looking for work and instead, it looked like they'd found a bar fight.

And judging by the number of angry locals closing in, it was only getting started.

John had to admit the clothes helped, even if a little. The locals would've likely been much more suspicious of them upon entering the town if they had been wearing the prison clothes, he was still unsure of their true origin but for now he'd have to settle with it.

As the group made its way into town, Dusk found himself studying the place with a soldier's eye. The streets were dusty, it was mostly weathered wooden buildings and the locals watched from shaded porches with weapons resting openly on their hips.

Not exactly the sort of place that screamed "major transportation hub."

If there was a way off-world here, it wasn't obvious. Still, it beat sitting in the desert waiting to die of exposure.

The saloon was the first place that looked remotely alive. The sounds of conversation and music spilled out through the swinging doors, drawing the group inside. Dusk stepped through after Neri, they were faced with a dozen faces all looking at them almost immediately as they stepped in.

At first, it seemed manageable. Curious looks followed them, but nothing unusual. They were strangers in a small town so this much was expected.

Then Kim when walked through the door the mood changed instantly. Dusk felt it before he fully understood it.

Murmurs swirled and the suspicious eyes narrowed.

The hairs on the back of the marine's neck stood up.

His gaze drifted across the room, trying to figure out what had triggered the reaction. Before he could, the bartender slammed a hand against the counter.

Chapter Two: High Noon Knockout

"You lot aren't welcome here!" he growled, pointing to the door, though apparently the option of a rapid retreat was not available to them as in the intervening space two large men had moved to block that route.

One cracked his knuckles menacingly.

Neri did a quick head count. Including the barman there were a dozen people here who seemed ready for a fight, dhasath and a few kiellar, a few others were skulking off. But why? "I think there's been a misunder-" she didn't get a chance to finish as someone yet out an enraged yell, hurling a bottle at her, which she swayed to avoid, feeling the brush of air over her nose. He gave a growl of rage and charged, fists balled as if ready to punch her.

The move seemed to encourage others and faster than one could have clicked one's fingers, the otherwise peaceful morning turned into a fist fight.

Dusk reacted before he even thought about it as his foot slammed into the attacker's ribs with a solid thud. The man folded sideways and crashed into the floorboards, skidding across the room in a cloud of dust.

The entire saloon exploded as people surged to their feet, toppling chairs and throwing punches.

The fight spread through the room like a brushfire.

"Son of a bitch."

A large dhasath was already bearing down on Dusk, they swung hard. Dusk slipped inside the punch as his own fist sailed past and he drove an elbow into the attacker's jaw.

The impact snapped the man's head sideways and Dusk shoved him backward.

The dhasath stumbled into a table, sending drinks, cards, and furniture crashing to the floor. People were fighting everywhere now.

The Marine lowered his center of gravity and raised his hands instinctively.

The day had started with looking for work and instead, it looked like they'd found a bar fight.

And judging by the number of angry locals closing in, it was only getting started.

Saeyeon Kim

Kim could feel the eyes from the bar patrons locked on her. Like her time in that Command prison camp, she stuck out like a sore thumb with her East Asian features betraying her as a human. If looks could kill, she would be a pile of ashes due to the glare. When the barman said something about the group not being welcomed, Kim decided that it was best to not cause any trouble and turned around, just in time to see the exit blocked by some of the patrons. Neri was about to say something but dodged a bottle thrown at her and then chaos ensued as a brawl erupted in the bar.

"I don't want any trouble," Kim said to a burly dhasath male glaring and then charging at her, stepping sideway just before he got close, causing to stumble a bit. Like a raging bull, the dhasath turned around and threw some punches at her while she dodged them all. The burly dhasath made another charge and she jumped to the side just in time for him to crash into the wall, his head stuck. Kim barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before she evaded a bottle thrown at her.

"Please, I said I don't want trouble," she pleaded as a dhasath and a kiellar attempted to corner her. She picked up a chair to defend herself, blocking a punch from the kiellar, who elicited a scream from his fist making contact with the wooden service of the chair, and then forced the dhasath back by jabbing him with the legs of the chair. However, the kiellar was able to recover and grabbed the chair away from Kim. Feeling cornered, she hopped onto a table and dodged their strikes with her legs, stepping on both the dhasath's and kiellar's hands with her boots. Both the males yelped from their hands getting stepped on.

"Sorry," she apologized, still trying to avoid their attacks. The kiellar slipped on something and fell and the dhasath was hit by a stray object and also fell, both groaning from the pain. Kim jumped back down and saw a bottle and a cue ball rolling around, likely what saved her from the two. As she looked around, she thought she a kiellar female with an unmistakable braided white hair underneath a wide brimmed hat just standing at the distance. Was that Vesol? What was she doing here? Her thoughts were interrupted when someone punched her gut. Gasping for air, she stumbled back to another table, a billiard table it seems and grabbed a pool cue for defense, feeling her senses back.