[h3]Without a hitch... yet.[/h3]
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 [i]clonk[/i] 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."