The heavy thud of footsteps echoed from the hall outside the control room, as yet another man stumbled down the stairs and through the door to Kara's left. She barely spared him a glance as she depressed the shoddy submachine gun’s trigger. He let out a blood-curdling scream as he tumbled over the safety railing at the base of the steps and crashed into the cooling pit below. Into the targeting computer’s cooling pit, where his body joined a growing pile of dead scrappers.

Like she’d said, stupidity was dangerous in large doses.

The trigger had clicked after she’d fired and she pulled the taped-up magazine aside to see that it was indeed empty.

With a huff, she threw the useless weapon into the pit as well, its clang echoing through the tall cylindrical room. But her sleeve caught her attention as she retracted her arm, and for the first time, she realized how filthy she actually was.

From head to toe she was covered in dried blood, making the fabric of her uniform stiff and unyielding. What was left of it at least, its shredded remnants were only held up by one of her sleeves that she’d tied around her shoulder. Kara had been through so many scrappers, she was surprised anyone was left to run the damn ship. And it would take more than a handful of showers to rid herself of the stench their putrid fluids and viscera had left behind.

Several of the specialized air controllers mounted around the room were blowing strong artificial gusts right at her. And she had to constantly brush hair away from her eyes as she typed furiously away at the central control console. Above her head, wires as thick as her legs ran along the ceiling, pulsing noisily while she worked. The constant throbbing indicated that the power was still flowing to the big guns.

But the console itself was frustratingly preventing her from shutting the weapons down. It should have been a simple task to enter a few technical codes and disconnect some wires. But most of the readouts were written in the newest bastardized mix of French and Russian. Simply known as Frussin, because people in the Fringe weren’t exactly known for their creativity. And it was just as nonsensical as all of the other chaotic language combinations from over the years and therefore she could only read every other word.

Kara had of course tried shooting it, it was the first thing she did, but it was protected by a powerful energy shield. And she couldn’t simply smash the controls, because it would trigger an automatic reroute to a secondary console elsewhere, quickly rendering all of her efforts moot. But…she had been standing there for ten frackin minutes and her patience was wearing thin.

Not to mention her fingers were starting to tire and her neck was starting to ache. Hell, if the console didn’t give soon, she just might give into her violent inclinations against her better judgment. And break everything even remotely electronic in sight. A dull thrum suddenly preceded the flickering and powering down lights, quickly followed by her console, leaving her in total darkness.

That’s what the fuck she thought.

If only, if she had the power to threaten inanimate objects, the remote for her custom, king-sized deluxe bed would’ve been stopped giving her headaches a long time ago. More likely, Rorik had actually managed to disable or destroy the reactor. And his timing was fantastic, because now…Kara hammered at the rusty panels and sparks erupted across the room. Sinking her claws into the console’s base, she pulled it from out of the floor with a grunt, sending it too tumbling down into the pit. Then, she grabbed a few of the hanging wires and ripped them from their supports, the residual power within them sending a warm tingle through her arms and down through her legs.

Now, if they managed to get the power back on, the automatic reroute might not trigger, and they’d have to do it manually, buying just that much more time for the Gizotso. It wasn’t quite what she’d been going for, but it would just have to do. Slinking back up the steps she peeked out of the room, expecting a healthy helping of incoming scrapper reinforcements, with their guns at the ready. But strangely, she saw no one. No goon coming to throw his life away, no drunken horde aimlessly wandering the halls, no people at all.

Well, there were people, a lot of people actually, just dead people. There was the guy in front of the doorway that she’d taken out with a fire ax. Another she’d folded backwards like an inverted briefcase, who was still twitching in the corner to her right. And pretty much everyone else in attendance she’d simply shot. The bloody soup of ruined bodies strewn about left a thick aroma in the air, a scent that reeked of shit, bile, and human fear.

Perhaps she’d gone a little overboard.

Kara focused her hearing around her immediate vicinity and took off running. There were a few panicked heartbeats some distance away, but they didn’t appear to be in motion. It was probably some of the less violently inclined scrappers huddling somewhere until the dust cleared. No bother, if they didn’t stand in her way, she really didn’t give a fuck.

The emergency power had finally booted up as she ran, bathing her and the darkened passage in a steady, low orange glow. She could only hope that it wouldn’t be enough to bring the vessel back to any real level of combat readiness. Kara had had enough of this place, and the thought of returning to their own shoddy excuse for a ship sounded surprisingly exciting.

A fierce bolt of something surged rapidly through the air towards Kara and struck her from behind, causing her body to convulse in agony as she let out a blood-curdling scream. The force of the impact took her off her feet and sent her onto the floor face first with a loud thud. Seething, she managed to slowly turn her head to face her attacker, a wild look of fury burning in her eyes as her body ebbed with pain.

Nebalo…

As usual, an escort of scrappers preceded him, each armed with incredibly strange, almost alien weapons that crackled with blue, pulsating orbs atop their upper-receivers. And unlike everything else on this ship, these weapons were sleek and clearly modern, not to mention free of grime.

Kara reigned in her anger and struggled to her feet, trying her best to maintain a calm exterior as the feeling slowly and painfully returned to her extremities. “I’m going to peel your cock like a banana, Nebalo.” She declared coldly.

“Oh, that a promise?” He asked smugly.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean…usually.”

Nebalo beamed calmly, as if he was glad to hear it. “You like the electro-casts? Quite the sting I’ve heard. Though they normally knock people still on the first shot,” Nebalo’s smile turned predatory yet again. “But I guess you aren't normal, are you sweetheart?”

“What gave it away?”

He shook his head in mock disappointment. “As a gentleman, I offered you a ride in your time of need. I offered you my hospitality and how do ye repay me? By slaughtering my men at every turn?!” Nebalo spat, his eyes suddenly blazing with anger. “I’m going to make you and ye brother suffer! I’ll—!”

Part of her wanted to rush in the other direction and leave the captain to banter with himself. Not only because that electro-doohickey hit like a bulk-cruiser, but because her and Rorik’s mission was complete and there wasn’t really any good reason to hang around. But…then she really thought about it…

There was no official reason anyway.

Though nothing adverse had actually happened to her at Nebalo’s order, she’d still taken the notion rather personally. The very thought of her being a victim of their sexual proclivities reminded her of certain memories. Memories of the damage done to someone who’d been dead a long time now…someone who’s face she sometimes saw when she looked in the mirror. After all this time, she had almost managed to forget her. And every fiber of her being wanted to thank Nebalo for the unwanted reminder. “All you offered me was rape.” Kara finally snapped.

Nebalo chuckled wickedly. “What, a man can’t express his affections anymore?” His men snickered alongside him.

Kara’s knuckles cracked violently as her flesh slowly turned a murderous shade of red, but once again she reigned herself in. “You’re not even worth the emotional effort. You’re just wild dogs, animals, you can’t help yourselves. Running around chasing your tails and barking for somebody to put you out of your misery. Somebody like me.”

Nebalo’s face twisted in anger. “Animals?! Dogs?! We be not the ones taking bites out of men, clawing into their flesh like foul beasts!”

“Down boy. Now please, spare me the sound of your voice and either kill me or fuck off. Unlike you, I’ve got things to do.”

Nebalo roared in rage and a wave of his hand unleashed a colorful barrage of incredibly fast orbs in her direction. With lightning-fast reflexes, Kara backflipped over the first wave, skillfully dodging and weaving through the field of projectiles with precision, each one crackling with deadly intensity as they zoomed by. A stray orb finally grazed her leg, sending a jolt of excruciating pain down to her toes. It felt like the whole limb had suddenly fallen asleep, but the familiar discomfort had been dialed up exponentially. The numb sensation forced her to switch legs, and lean to the right into a roll in order to dodge the next volley. Ducking back, she stabbed her claws into a loose durtanium panel along the wall and ripped it off with a metal screech. Just in time to send one of the energy projectiles back into the ceiling with a loud fizzle.

Steadily, she used the impromptu barrier to close the gap. She even managed to return a few orbs to sender, the men shouted out in agony before dropping motionlessly to the ground.”

“Arrggh, why…won’t…you…die!?” Nebalo screamed with rage as he grabbed two of the electro-casts from the ground and fired rapidly while backing away.

The narrowness of the hall had prevented them from firing directly around her shield, but they were shifting tactics and aiming at the walls at odd angles, sending the orbs bouncing back and forth upon one another, creating a blinding minefield of rapidly exploding orbs that threatened to stop her advance entirely. Kara blinked and then she was completely surrounded, she was spinning and smacking away half a dozen orbs with every passing second. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer, sooner or later at this rate, she’d be overwhelmed. Kara gritted her teeth as an orb grazed her whitened knuckles; she was about to say fuck it and make a charge for Nebalo. Better to take her chances, than go down like a chump.

And no way she was allowing them to take her alive.

Suddenly, a series of thunderous booms rocked the ship, knocking them all to the ground as the floor tilted underneath them. The orbs bounced even more wildly than before as they floated down the hallway, smacking into scrappers as the metal infrastructure of the Basilisk groaned under the strain of the sudden and unexpected maneuver. In mere seconds, they all soon found themselves hurtling forward at incredible speeds down the steep, impromptu slide.

“All hands, battle stations! We’re under attack from…the docked ship? Are you sure?”

The scrappers screamed and hollered as they went, some accidentally impacting with bone-crushing force on the raised corners of bulkheads, or on the lips of adjacent intersections. Kara rolled around to her back and stood on the panel, using it as a makeshift surfboard as she maneuvered left and right. Sinking her claws into the durtanium floor, the friction burned at her fingertips as she attempted to steer herself. Dodging the incoming onslaught of bodies, loose containers and the bits of metal debris that broke off after every iteration of heavy weapons fire from the Gizotso. Cinders and pieces of shrapnel from secondary explosions peppered along her face, the gashes ripping open and closing just as fast.

Nebalo rolled around towards her and continued firing, but it was sporadic, and most of the time hitting nothing, or his own men. She wasn’t too far from him now, if she could just get a little closer, she might be able leap onto him. And she wanted nothing more than to wrap her hands around his throat, and to keep the promise she’d made just a few minutes before. Maybe she’d also rip off his face and arms, and then see how long he’d be the captain of anything.

With a roaring boom, a massive hole ripped open in the hull a couple of dozen meters in front of them, the vacuum wasting no time sucking air and men out into the cold, darkness of space. Kara took a deep breath, hoping that she’d be pulled out on the side where the Gizotso was docked. If not, she’d probably float away like Mary Poppins and run out of air before she even had the chance to freeze to death. But she’d faced worse odds she supposed, fifty-fifty was almost a guarantee compared to a typical day in her life.

Emergency bulkheads, along with red energy shields, quickly deployed along the length of the hall in response to the sudden depressurization. Her forehead quickly and painfully collided with one such shield with sharp static hiss, stopping her momentum dead.

“Ow…”

Kara slowly rubbed at her head as her vision cleared, cleared to the sight of Captain Nebalo sprawled out on the shield just a few meters below hers and frustratingly shy of the gaping breach in the Basilisk. Groggily he rose to his feet, his every step shimmering and hissing as the energy field reacted to his movements.

“You lucky fuck. So close to being a scrappersicle,” She sighed. “Yet so far. Stars, let the circuit short out, please?”

Nebalo was still out of it and a little wobbly, but had enough of his senses to smile triumphantly up at her. “Fate may be more on my side, than on yours.”

“I’d believe you any other day. But then again, why’s your ship’s being blown into hell right now and not mine?” Kara perked her ears mockingly. “Not hearing all that much return fire.”

Nebalo seemed to consider her words for a moment, before clumsily pulling his comm out of his pocket. “Bridge, report!”

“Captain?! Um, okay, let’s see, most of our guns are down due to the lack of power and the main reactor’s going to be down for quite a while. Shields are minimal and their guns are tearing through more times than not, we’ve got numerous hull breaches all over the ship! We haven’t heard back from the away teams, and the men we sent over to check haven’t returned, we’re considering them dead at this time.”

Nebalo frowned as he looked back at her.

“Maybe they got turned around? Well, maybe just their heads.” She taunted wickedly.

His frown deepened, before transforming into a crooked smile. “Draw power from all other systems and put it into the ceedrive. Release the docking clamps and take us on a course out of here.”

“Sir, we can’t release the clamps, they’re warped and jammed from our sudden maneuvers…sir. And the enemy ship has been matching our every move to keep it attached.”

“Then target the docking ring and get us the fuck out of here!” Nebalo shouted, spraying spit onto his comm. He stomped around like an angry stegosaurus for a few moments before scrutinizing her..

Oh, if this shield wasn’t here.

“Hmmph, you’re crazier than I anticipated, Captain. No way the drive will maintain a forcefield on emergency power alone. It’ll destabilize and rip this entire ship apart. You might as well stick around here, it'd probably be safer.”

“Better to go down my way, than yours.”

The ship slowly righted itself and rocketed forward underneath her feet at his words, and from her view of the hull breach, she could see the azure celestial waves ebb and flow against the forcefield, carrying the Basilisk along the turbulent ocean that was celestial space. Looking around, she realized she was trapped in between the fields, while Nebalo’s section opened into a hall. And he seemed to happily notice at the same time.

“Well enjoy the ride, I bid you adieu for now. Once I get things in order, I'll be back for ye…with every man and every gun I've got left.”

“All five of them?”

Smiling, he limped away and out of sight.

“This is just a stay of execution Nebalo. Like a banana!” Kara yelled after him.

Bullets were still pinging off of the hull, which meant Del was on a pursuit course, but knowing the faultiness of their own drive, Kara didn't imagine it would be for long. But she wasn't too upset at the notion, at the rate the Lieutenant had the gunners tearing into this ship, it probably wouldn't take long before she'd blown her and Rorik into dust with friendly fire. Another hole violently ripped into the hull in the section just right behind the shield to her rear.

Case and point.

Looking along the walls in her limited space, she saw a door panel jutting out next to a hatch. Opening the door revealed a dead-end closet, so she focused on the panel itself, trying to see the extent of its interconnectivity with the rest of the ship’s systems, if any. With a swift yank, she tore it free of its housing, the clatter echoing through the now desolate hallway. Kara followed along the many connections inside and typed away at the keyboard, once again struggling through the nearly incomprehensible Frussin. The panel presented very little options for her, but it appeared that it might be able to tie into the controls for the front shield where Nebalo had been, due to its proximity. Or she’d accidentally override the rear one and get sucked out into space. The panel sparked as she connected the final reroute, sending a painful shock up her finger and the length of her arm.

“Fuck!”

Kara took a calming breath before sucking on her finger.

The chances of Rorik finding her anytime soon were incredibly low on a ship this size. And her only other options were to wait for Del to blow it apart or for Nebalo or one of his employees to stroll along and see that they could just drop the shield and kill her without breaking a sweat. She hovered a finger precariously over the command that would either lead to her salvation or her instant vaporization at the speeds that the ship was flying.

Another fifty-fifty so soon? Her luck was changing for the better.

With sweaty palms and a brow furrowed in concentration, she forced herself to press the button.

“Hey, Kara.”

She was just barely able to avert her finger into a different direction at the last millisecond, closing the hatch again instead of opening one of the shields.

“You…motherfucker!” Kara shouted at Rorik, who was standing rather casually at the front shield in his lightly tattered uniform with a blue scrapper jacket pulled over it.

“What did I do?”

“I was about to…I…you motherfucker!”

He smiled warmly. “Thanks for the clarification. You stuck?”

Kara scoffed angrily, even though she was actually happy to see him. “No shit. You gotta override the emergency protocols for this section of the hall or maybe you can hack into the mainframe itself and—.”

Rorik stepped slightly to his right, audibly pressed a few buttons on an unseen panel and dropped the shield with a hiss.

“I don’t like you very much right now,” She muttered under her breath. “How’d you find me anyway? Did you run into Nebalo?”

“I was passing by and you’re as loud as a crash landing. And no, I didn’t have the pleasure, but are you ready to get off this ship? I don’t think it’s got long.” Rorik sniffed under his arm. “Plus, I’d like to get started on my week-long shower as soon as possible.”

“You’re practically spotless.”

Rorik tugged on the sleeves of his jacket. “Could be worse, yeah, but I like to work smarter, not harder,” He looked her up and down inquisitively. “Clearly the opposite of whatever the hell it is you did.”

“Let’s just go,” Kara said through gritted teeth as she walked into the hall. “You got a plan or anything or are you just going to step to the right a little and figure it out?”

The ship rumbled and shook especially violently.

“Come on, you can bitch at me while we run, I think I know where the nearest escape pods are.”

 

Kara's pulse raced in tandem with each hurried step as she sprinted alongside Rorik. Nebalo, true to his word, had kept the drive going. And true to hers, the Basilisk was rapidly falling apart before their eyes. She didn’t even know if they’d lost the Gizotso or not. The guns had stopped impacting the hull, but perhaps Del had been successful in disabling enough weapons to no longer bother shooting at it. Maybe it was simply a waste of ammo at this point.

They ran into an especially ravaged section, large chunks of durtanium were missing and emergency shields flickered weakly, struggling to keep out the deadly vacuum. And in that darkness loomed a world, a barren, tan world that was growing larger by the second.

“We really do have terrible luck,” Rorik commented, his voice strained with exhaustion. “This way!”

Scrappers were running in every direction when they got to one of the pod-launching bays. Loading supplies and whatever wasn’t nailed down as they piled into the dozens of pods on either side of the long passageway. A group of them, armed with rifles, stopped abruptly and stared at her wide-eyed with fear, like they’d inadvertently run into a natural disaster or something.

The tension built for a second, before she shouted. “Boo!”

They undecidedly bumbled past each other and shuffled around her cautiously to run in the opposite direction.

And here she thought they were incapable of learning.

Rorik grabbed a man that was about to enter an empty pod and threw him back against the wall with a thud. But Kara quickly grabbed him as he tried to stand and snapped his neck, dragging him after her.

“Was that necessary?”

“It’s a long trip down.” Kara said as she rubbed at her stomach, which rumbled at the thought.

“Oh, good thinking. I’m fucking starving.”

Sealing the door behind them, they secured themselves and jettisoned from the second, Battered Basilisk, hurtling down to the planet below. Fiery wisps encircled them as the friction of the upper-atmosphere superheated the metal of the pod. Through one of the transparent canopy, they witnessed the once-mighty ship break apart in a spectacular display of destruction. Pods fired in every direction, each vying to make it safely to the unknown planetoid below. With how long they’d been in ceespace, they were probably still in the Fringe, but she didn’t have a clue as to where just yet.

Rorik popped a claw, ripped off the scrappers sleeve and started cutting away a strip of flesh along the side of his arm, little droplets of blood pooled on the skin’s surface. “I hope this planet has a breathable atmosphere now that I think about it.” He said in between famished bites.

“Well, we’ll find out pretty quickly, won’t we? You think the Gizotso made it okay?”

He wiped his hands on his pants, as he licked his fingers. “To be honest, I was trying not to think about that.”

Kara raised an eyebrow as she took a strip of flesh.

“Doesn’t sound very captainly I know, but if they were still here, we’d probably see them. And if they aren’t…then maybe the vessel was lost with all hands…the shortest starship career in Unified history.” Rorik stared thoughtfully at his feet.

“Or they fell behind again, I doubt they had much time to continue the repairs, remember?”

“Yeah, I’m holding out a little hope for that scenario, but I’d rather be joyously surprised than go along thinking that everything’s hunky-dory when it’s not.”

Kara smiled reservedly, either were strong possibilities. But she felt in her bones that they were just fine and she needed to keep thinking that to keep her head clear. Studying his handsome face she lifted up Rorik’s chin playfully, not wanting him to wallow in his thoughts. “Hunky-dory?”

“Yeah you know, pleasant, good?”

“No, I know that you flapdoodle, it just sounds weird, I haven’t heard it in a very long time.” Kara chuckled lightly while pulling an especially long strip from the scrapper. The sweet and savory taste of the pork-like flesh made her groan in complete satisfaction as she chewed.

“A flap what?”

“See, word sounds out of place, doesn’t it?”

Rorik smiled as they entered the atmosphere proper. Soaring through dry clouds with every passing second. Finally the sight of the tan and red sands of a massive desert greeted them. A massive blue star dominated the sky, shining off of the planets surface in a blinding haze of warm light. A surprisingly beautiful sight, for how simple an environment it was.

Kara worked her fingers between the few control panels inside the pods as best she could, but more than a few buttons were missing. “Yeah, the atmosphere seems good, I’m also picking up some significant energy signatures from just over the horizon to the east of us. So, this dust ball is some form of civilized at least.”

“Hopefully they’ve got a full-sized LDC somewhere. Our first order of business is to contact the Gizotso. If we can’t reach them, we’ll either contact Rikor for a pick-up or jack a ship, then we'll head back to Azrhar with our tails in between our legs.” Rorik closed his eyes and stretched out with a groan.

“Ground.” Kara said matter-of-factly.

“Gro—?”

The pod shook violently as they rocketed into the sea of sediments, brilliant cobalt scintillations erupted from its shoddy instrument panels. An opaque shadow of sand completely covered the lower canopy and their restraints buckled. She could even feel the pod's kinetic stabilizers struggling. Whining, they were just barely managing to keep the powerful inertial impact from mangling their bodies. Kara grimaced as pain echoed throughout the length of her bones and made her teeth chatter. Slowly, eventually, they slid to a sudden and unceremonious stop.

“Ow…” Rorik murmured.

“Tried to,” She grunted as she popped the restraints release. “Warn you.”

Rorik rubbed at his neck. “Warning me like that is like telling somebody to get out of the street after a car already ran them over,” He released his as well and stumbled to open the door. “You might as well have said nothing.” Rorik said snarkily.

“Maybe keep your eyes open next time.” Kara retorted mockingly, as she cracked her neck. The door to the pod snapped open, followed by a wave of heat that washed over her face and sand that peppered at her eyes, forcing her to squint as she followed him down. The crash landing had inadvertently created a tall uneven mound of sand and glass; they slid downwards a dozen or so feet before landing on relatively undisturbed ground.

“Remember which way is east?”

“That way, over that hill,” Kara said confidently as she pointed and cracked her back. “Fuck, I don’t know, crash landings tend to throw off my sense of direction, go check.”

Rorik quickly jumped back to the pod, displacing a copious amount of sand that rolled down to pool up to her knees.

The sun burnt at the exposed flesh of her shoulders and upper thighs. And Kara took a deep breath of the dry air and looked up into the fiery chaos still unfolding in the upper-atmosphere. Debris from the Basilisk was still raining down in the distance. The far-off popping sounds of the many impacts barely registering from this range.

Rorik poked his head out. “Your sense of direction is still good, it’s the first way you pointed and it doesn’t look too far either. Might as well walk it and conserve our energy.”

“Sure, just don’t forget our little snack, kid.”

 

They cut off a number of choice cuts from all over the scrappers body, dried the blood off and wrapped them in a makeshift backpack constructed from the dead man’s clothing. After walking for what felt like an hour, they finally saw civilization on the horizon. A city more advanced than Kara would’ve imagined on a planet as seemingly devoid of anything as this one. The tall towering forms of the gray, durtanium cloud-breakers loomed invitingly in the distance. The faintest visual hint of the city’s aerorider traffic flew high above the ground, scrambling and bustling in different directions like pissed off insects. Sand continued to blow into her face with every breeze, it was sticking to the coagulated blood that covered her hair and uniform.

As they drew nearer, they passed a number of smaller compounds and settlements surrounding the population center. Large translucent, mechanical tubes riddled the landscape next to the other man-made structures in symmetrical, almost crop-like fashion. Within each of the machines, sand was spinning turbulently around like a blender. And at its base there was a collection of fine dark particles that were being washed and kept separated from the rest of the sand.

“Sand-farmers?” Rorik looked around with a smile. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

The buildings grew less and less far apart and now people were starting to trickle in and out of fields. And of the buildings themselves and into the unforgiving sunlight.

Most of them were wearing sleek jumpsuits that matched the sand around them. They loosely hugged their frames and the fabric rippled softly with each step. Thick metal vests surrounded their chests and wraparound goggles with digital readouts protected their vision.

A large number of them had congregated and were looking up at the last remnants of the scrapper ship stuck in orbit, asking and wondering what could have caused such a terrible thing. But they instantly stopped what they were doing and stared at Rorik and especially her with their mouths wide as they walked by. The farmers went out of their way to avoid them, some even going as far to turn and jog back into their homes.

They must not encounter many blood-soaked women here.

A man with light white hair backed out of the structure to their right, dragging some sort of machine with him. Kara pulled on Rorik’s arm to follow her as she approached him.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“What, what, I’m busy. These grynite clusters aren’t going to—,” The man whipped around when he finally really noticed them, shock plastered across his face. “Look, I don’t have any money and I don’t want any trouble,” He reached a hand down casually to a handgun strapped at his waist. “You, you don’t want any either.” He said, sounding a bit unsure of himself.

“We just want information,” Kara said evenly, ignoring the notion of his gesture. She didn’t blame him, she’d be skeptical of them too. “Like what planet this is and what city that is?”

The goggles were completely opaque, but his mannerisms made it seem as if he was looking back and forth between them worriedly. “...Ginos-Eles and…the city of Kelb.”

“Hmm, I don’t know that one, you?” Rorik asked gruffly.

“No,” She paused and studied the farmer intently, and she noticed that his chest piece had readouts too. One with a number, one with a name, and another with what appeared to be his body temperature, which was slowly rising. “Now, Kai with a K, that’s a good letter. I have one last question for you, a two-parter. Are we in the Fringe and if not, are we in Union or Directorate space?”

“You're in the Fringe,” Kai sniffed the air. “Is…is that blood?” He asked fearfully.

“Whaaaat? No. It’s paint.” Kara said as reassuringly as she could.

“No, it’s blood alright, I can taste the iron from here,” Kai said with a bit more confidence. “Did…you kill someone?”

“Well, a lot more than one.” Kara muttered.

“We were aboard the exploding ship.” Rorik interjected calmly.

Kai looked into the sky. “So, you’re scrappers then?” His fingers retightened around the gun and Kara was hair's breadth away from planting a boot print on his chest-plate.

“As prisoners, we barely escaped with our lives. Do we look like scrappers?” Rorik continued, gently grabbing onto Kara’s arm.

“Well…no actually, you’re too clean.”

“We were kidnapped, and I know we said we only wanted information Kai, but if you could spare some water and a fresh change of clothes, we’d really appreciate it. We don’t have anything to offer you in return, um, I guess you could scrap the escape-pod we took for some extra cash? It’s about an hour back in that direction.” Rorik said with his best diplomatic tone.

Kai seemed to genuinely consider it for a moment, and hesitantly backed away into his house. “Fine, just give me a second, wait here,” He stopped and gestured at the ground. “Right here.”

The door shut after him, leaving them both standing there like schmucks, the nearby farmers still eyeing them suspiciously as they continued working.

“How much you want to bet he’s not coming back.” Kara offered while still staring forward.

“I’d say ten fissens that he will, but I’d bet another five that he shoots us through the door first.”

Kara looked down at Rorik’s hand that was still firmly latched onto her. “You can let go now, I promise I won’t fall over.” She said teasingly.

“Oh, sorry.” He said somewhat sheepishly, but before he pulled away, he stared briefly into her with another one of those warm gleams, like the one they’d shared in Azrhar’s orbit.

“What?” Kara asked sharply as she leaned in to inspect his eyes closely. “Got a problem, tough guy?”

Rorik chuckled, before rubbing some of the dried blood gently away from her face. “Nothing, you just had a little blood booger in your eye.”

“Oh, okay. Smart answer.” Kara smiled warmly, but stole a furtive glance at him as the door to Kai’s house reopened.

Despite their typical banter, she sensed an unspoken tension that now hung in the toasty air between them. A palpable energy that she could’ve raked her claws through and drawn blood from. Then, unexpectedly, she found her gaze lingering on his striking features, which were covered with a fine sheen of sweat that glistened in the cobalt desert sunlight.

“Here you go folks,” Kai said as he walked out and handed them each a jumpsuit similar to his own and a bottle of water. “You don’t have to pay me back, I’ll consider it my good deed of the month.”

Kara nodded, accepting the man’s gifts with a forced smile as she scrutinized her uncommon, but not unfamiliar thoughts towards her longtime companion. Her entire life had been beaten to hell this past week, in more ways than one, changing in ways she hadn’t seen coming. And now, for some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that things with Rorik could be just as unpredictable as everything else.

Rorik cleared his throat as he finished sipping his water and shook the human’s hand. “Thanks Kai, we really appreciate it.”

Kai nodded and looked over at her. “And you Miss, there's a hose on the right side of the house, I’d recommend you use it before you go into town. I don’t think that’s a fashion choice Kelbians would appreciate.”