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"Hang on!" she cried and tighter cinched the straps across her waist and shoulders. It seemed this "easy" job she'd signed on for wasn't very easy at all. She'd found considerable resistance and, despite her long years of experience and notable skill, it was something bigger than herself. Her craft succumbed and she found herself limping toward a world she'd never heard of, let alone visited, out here just past the Outer Rim. Limping? She smirked as the alarms and bells sounded and the whole cabin filled with the red warning lights. Hurtling was a better descriptor. She pulled with all of her reserved strength on the craft's yoke, muscling it to do her will. She dropped down through the clouds and had a dew seconds to scan the terrain. Mountains... trees... grassland. Perfect. She groaned and even closed her eyes as she wrestled with her ship, and watched the ground rising to meet her. She held unrelenting until the jarring impact forced her cramped hands from the controls and she lost her senses. A brief, smooth glide through the air then they collided again, and she felt the craft shudder and groan as they plowed through the firm earth. She felt sideways and realized they were rolling, just a bit to the port side, and then with one last jolt they were stopped. "Tree," she said, listening to the word in the now silenced cockpit. "Or maybe rock." She ran her hands across her face and up to her hair; they came away sticky with blood. She felt a little dizzy. She looked over at her companion, a rust colored droid. His eyes were dark and he was covered with dings and dents, though she wasn't certain any were from this landing. He was in rough shape when she found him, and she had a tendency to through things when he was mouthy. She unstrapped and fought against the gravity, a little heavier than she was used to, to climb out of the ship. She reached the hull and felt the heat of the ship scorching her hands, even her booted feet, and she looked around. Mountains? Or forest. She checked her weapons then began trudging through the tall grass, less than wary from her head injury, and cursing all the while. She had a bad feeling from this place.

There was no end in sight. She marched onward, parting the tall grasses with one hand and holding the other arm up to shield her face from the flying insects and seed pods that rained down on her. It was hot, as hot as her broken ship, and her head ached fiercely. She wondered, as she had a thousand other times, if this would be the adventure that led to her end. The thought sickened her heart but she could not stop it, and the thumb on the hand of her shielding arm ran across a ring on her finger. A ring. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and shook her head. She would not meet her end today. Not this time. She felt as though she'd walked forever, but it truly was not far. She turned to check her progress and saw her craft looming over the grasses, so close she could still smell the hot metal and scorched vegetation. Hot. She needed water. She needed a survival pack. Why had she left the ship without it? "You're losing it, Pek," she muttered to herself and began retracing her steps. "You know better than this. Maybe you're softer than you thought." Though the words were her own the stirred up an anger inside her, an anger that gave her will and she pressed forward at her agonizing pace. Her eyes narrowed as the edge of a thought crept into her mind. Yes, her leg did hurt. Maybe that was why she was moving so slowly through a terrain that was fairly forgiving. She looked down and saw her pantleg, slicked and shiny with her own blood. She felt dizzy again and stumbled, then righted herself. "Supplies on the ship." she muttered. She had nearly reached the craft when she felt a tingle at the base of her skull. Something was not right. Something felt very wrong. She stopped to listen but could hear little passed the hissing of the hot metal and the faint ringing in her ears. "Calm down, Pek," she said, scanning the grasses with blue-violet eyes. "It's nerves. Nothing's out there to get you...."

She knew she was hearing things, but could not discern the sounds. She was frustrated. "C'mon, Pek," she growled and circled her ship, trying to figure out how to get in. It was always easier to slide down than to climb up. "You used to be the best around. Just because you had a little crash, you think you can go soft in the head..." She heat blistered her face and made the dark hair stick to her face and the back of her neck. She ran her hands through it and gathered it all up, then dropped it again. It fell, as it always did, in long soft waves that stopped just past her hips. She'd worry with it later. Feeling a little more like herself, she reached into a cargo pocket on her pant leg and pulled out some heavy gloves, when she tugged on and began climbing. She climbed down into the sideways freighter and staggered along the darkened corridor. She didn't have to go far; she kept the packs close to the hatch, in case of emergencies. She grabbed up a couple of the packs and dug the water out. Green spots filled her vision, but her head was glad to be out of the sun. She drank a unit of water, and thought about just staying in the ship for a while. No... No, that would be a bad idea. She would have to get out and look around, see if she could set up a camp until she could get things fixed. Feeling refreshed, but still with the raging headache, she climbed back out and onto the hull of her ship. She scanned the grasses and saw a thin line moving away. Curious. She nearly called out when a similar movement caught her eye. She turned her head and tracked the second one, much larger and moving much slower. She narrowed her eyes and took off her gloves, then rubbed her sweating palms against the back of her pant legs. She was dizzy, and unsteady, and she was being stalked by something.

She heard the howl and the answering calls, and a chill dripped down into her fingers. "What are you..." she whispered. "Drexl? Laigrekk? or something more terrible..." She drew her weapons, twin blasters from battered holsters on her weathered belt. They'd seen her through many a scrap with many a beast. She shook out her injured leg, with was starting to tingle. She was losing a lot of blood, but wouldn't risk healing. She didn't want to be found. "Damn," she muttered as the beast howled again and she stepped closer to the hatch, judging her distance carefully. If it came to that, she'd drop down inside. Lock 'er up tight. Maybe the turrets would work, for a blast or two. Then there was no more time for thought, because the beast made itself known leaping high into the air her with in its sights. She gritted her teeth and opened fire with both blasters, sending the red beams into the grey fur. Even as she was impressed by its leap she was crouching, moving, twisting into a rolling duck to take her away from the path. The hot ship scorched her jacket but minor burns would heal, and she came up with both barrels blazing. Her head hurt. She was dizzy. She couldn't focus, and she was painfully aware that her bolts were not hitting critical areas. She was afraid to aim for the creatures gaping maw, because she was afraid to miss and waste a shot. So she kept her bead on it's forebody, on its belly, and the other large areas of the beast. She couldn't die today. Not before melting her blasters to slag.

She couldn't believe her luck. The creature stood with it's chest exposed and it's snout lifted in a howl. The pirate screwed up her face and, with a rage-filled yell of her own, she sent a fresh volley with her left-hand blaster into the chest and hoped that's where the vitals were stored. With her right, which she had better control over, she aimed for the lifted throat and squeezed off a fatal round. Nothing could stand a shot through the throat at such close range. Her cry, distinctly feminine despite the rage, rang in her ears. Her hands were starting to shake, and she wondered if it would be worse to be found, or to die. No, not yet. She could hold out longer. "Stay with it, Pek. Stay with it." When the hallucinations began, when she thought she saw ... him... then she would drop into the hatch and seal it up tight and properly heal. Maybe she was far enough from the Core they wouldn't find her. Maybe she wasn't. She scanned the grasses and found them still, but she did not trust the stillness. She never trusted the stillness. She swiped the blood and sweat from her eyes with the back of her hand, then wiped the back of her hand on her pants. Blood. Of course. These predators were drawn to it, and she was a sitting duck. She thought of leaving, then quickly dismissed it. The forest, where she'd heard and answering cry, was too far away. Here on her little freighter she was afforded some protection. It was hot, but she would stay.

Pek tensed and watched the dead beast slide down the hull of her ship. Bloody mess.... but it was not a primary concern right now. she heard a snarl and readied her blasters as a second one emerged, but it seemed to not notice her. She kept wary eyes trained upon it, watched it rip open her casualty then watched it prance away with it's new prize. Good. Maybe they'd forget her for a bit, long enough she could get out of the sun and somewhere she could rest. Rest, and maybe heal. Or maybe she'd just patch herself up and let her body handle the rest. She put her blasters ini the holsters, just for a moment, as she grabbed another unit of water. She turned up her head and drank heavily, the water trickling down her throat and under the tunic. It did not cool her, however; it was far too hot to be cooled. Hot. She was practically baking out there on the hull, and she followed the bloody trail of the beast and slid down the hull on the side opposite the hatch. She was tapping her reserve's reserves for strength, now. The sun was baking her head and her hands were still shaking. The battle had taken hours, and she was exhausted. But no rest. Not yet. Her boots hit the dried soil and scorched grasses and she stumbled. She looked down at her stained, dirty hands and willed them to be still, but they would not. Perhaps she did need to get in the ship. Perhaps she needed to heal, now, before it was too late. She put her hands on her blaster again, just to be sure, and began walking back tot he hatch side. She had just rounded from the backside and was coming up on the belly, where the hatch was lifted into the air, when she saw something she did not expect. She drew her blasters but held them unsteadily. Dark hair. Green eyes. The edgey survivial melted from her blue-violet eyes and was replaced by heartbroken confusion. "DenJie?" she said, tilting her head a bit to the side. The weapons wavered in her hands and she dropped them, and took a step forward. "Den?" she repeated, her confusion and concern evident. But it was too much. Her knees became weak and she began to sink, then pulled herself back up. She managed one more step before her eyes rolled back and she sank to the ground, utterly spent.

She did not notice being rolled to her back, but the heavy nudge started her back. She furrowed her brow and groaned, but did little else. There was little else to do. Her head throbbed and her leg ached horribly and everything else was sore or too tired to move. Her eyelids fluttered open and she muttered something unintelligible. She tried to lift her head but it just hurt too much. "Help....... help me" she managed to whisper. Who knew if he spoke Basic? who knew if he was even sentient? But he looked so much like.... "DenJie..." she said again, faintly, and her eyes closed again. She exhaled a shuddering breath then was still, aside from her shallow breathing.

Pekmae was awake, on some level, long before she ever opened her eyes. She was feeling out this place she was in, getting a sense for her surroundings. And, in some small way, she was working to heal herself. Cell by cell she worked to repair her body. She told herself it was to avoid detection, but it was really because she out of practice. She didn't want to blow up from trying to heal, and so she kept it small. She did not know how long she had been out, but she did know when it was time to open her eyes. So she did, one piercingly clear, light blue-violet eye at a time. The room was darker than she expected, lit only by candles. She wrinkled her nose. Primitive. The next thing she was aware of was the smell of old blood. She tried to lift her head but it throbbed awfully, and she squinted her eyes against the pain. Her whole body felt heavy, as though she couldn't move, and she wondered if she'd been drugged. Slowly she coaxed her hand to creep up to her face and neck, because they felt damp. A touch, then she pulled her fingers away and found them clean. Drugged or not, someone had cared for her, and she took it to be a good sign. She smirked, and worked at sitting up again. She'd always led a charmed life, from the time she was very small. Even in the worst of scrapes she seemed to always find a way out and emerge, typically not much the worse for wear. This seemed to be another of those times. Now sitting, she inspected her pants and instantly wished for clean ones. Her packs! Sometimes she shoved extra clothing in them, and she hoped this was one of those times. She located them on the floor near her, and she slid down and scooped one up. Pants. Cautiously thrilled, because of her head, she shook out the packed pants and shimmied out of her bloodied ones. When she stooped and lifted her leg she was aware of her wound and stopped to inspect it. It was a gash, alright, though it looked clean and was not bleeding. She wondered what in her ship was broken enough to do that. The thought made her snort with suppressed laughter. What in her ship wasn't broken enough to gash her leg?

She was becoming aware of noises, sounds, and she quickly slipped into the pants and frowned. They were old. They'd fit her once, in her former lifestyle. But now they were too big, and nestled dangerously on the widest part of her hips. She put on her belt, fitted snugly to keep the pants in place, then slipped her boots back on. She found a fresh tunic, and changed that as well, then gave her head an experimental shake. Not a hundred percent, but she'd make it. Though she wished for blasters she could not lie down any longer, so she decided to explore a little. She hadn't been in restraints, so things should be safe enough. The fallen pilot walked with stealthy steps, for such heavy boots, and wondered where her saviour was. Or, perhaps he was captor. Either way, he not present.

A long time had passed since she was immersed in the sounds of nature, but the sound of rushing, falling water was easy to pick out. Pekmae crept until she found an exit, then stood looking out. It appeared she was standing in a tree-dwellling. "Kashyyk...?" She wondered aloud. No, because she could see the ground. But it felt similar.

It was dark, which made her uneasy. How long had she been resting? How long had she been unattended, and when did unattended become abandoned? No, none of that. She began around the circle, swimming within the thoughts in her head. She ached across the whole of her body, everything either injured or sore from the impact. She twisted her lips into a cynical smirk. That's what she got for crashing. Besides, she'd been hurt worse. A snort. In her youth something had always been broken, or bloodied, or bruised. Life was hard on her and she was hard on life. It was a wonder she ever survived. Brazen, impulsive, foolhardy. The smirk broke into a smile as she continued around. Come to think of it... little had changed since her youth. Smothering under the weight of her hair, she gathered it up and was ready to do something with it when she lifted her eyes and saw the man, standing on a bridge. She was aware of the strange lights, and the strange man, and she dropped her hair to ready her hands. Who knew what he had planned? Her limbs still felt heavy, and she remembered it was the world's gravity. It was heavier than she was used to, which would slow her down in fight. If it came to that. She had question and opened her mouth to throw them at the man, but something told her it was not the right time. So she closed it again, and waited.

She steadied herself with a hand against the dwelling wall as the brief wind blew. It caught up her hair, whipping it around like a wild, living thing. Then the moment passed and it settled again, in the way it chose, and she did not correct it. The moment was a bit too tense for hair worries, right now. With the wind gone she was given a command. She didn't take kindly to demands, especially from strange men in strange forests. That had gotten her into a lot of trouble, once. Her light eyes narrowed to a sharp, chilly edge. She cooled to match his tone, then went a few degrees more, because his voice didn't ring true. It sounded forced. "Why?" she asked, the first words she'd spoken to him. It was a cold, demanding tone, different than the soft one she used to speak to herself. "Who are you?" she followed with quickly. Important to get these things out of the way. She folded her arms across her chest and did not budge, despite his movement and his orders. He had the advantages, here, in all circumstances. He was probably armed, where she was not. He knew the layout of this place, while her night vision was considerably little-used, and therefore poor. And he didn't suffer through a sizable crash, leaving him injured and just a little dazed, even still.

She frowned, weighing her options quickly. Remain alone was her first choice. That hardly seemed like something she wanted to do. She wanted to get her ship fixed and get away. She wanted to get back into the stars, where she made sense, and get back to .... back to what? Back to running away? Back to hiding? Out here beyond the Rim she was hidden; no one knew she was here. No one knew she survived her fall. Perhaps she did have time for a brief stay. Her second choice, to follow the man who withheld his answers, started to look a little better. She watched him handle a panel and a crystal and she arched her eyebrow. The grinding of gears, a sound that was quite familiar, and she was forced to rethink this place. Perhaps it was not as primitive as she'd first believed.

A platform arrived and Pek had a second to stare before her captor/companion was moving away, ready for her to "remain alone." She, however, was not ready for that choice. She didn't say anything to indicate she would go with him, but followed closely on his heels. It was clear she was unhappy; she had a tendency to project her emotions, sometimes strongly. She was annoyed and frustrated and more than a little concerned. And she was certain he could sense it all.

Pekmae, too, was silent, though not for the thoughts in her head. She was focused on standing upright, not being dizzy, and not passing out, in that order. He ordered her to come, and she screwed up her mouth. She hadn't been ordered around for a good many years, and it was starting to creep under her skin. But she followed him through the door, and squinted her eyes at the sudden light. So, maybe things weren't primitive at all. That should prove useful. She followed him with awkward steps and a bit of a limp, a bit surprised when he turned on her and offered food. What kind of world was she on? Things were following the natural protocols she'd held to be true in all her years of travel. Then she remembered herself and shook her head. "No, I am not hungry. I am angry, and I want answers." She gave that a second to sink in, then began with her barrage. "Who are you? What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Where is my ship? Where are my blasters and, at the very least, what is your name?" Her arms were folded across her chest, and she was tapping the toes on her right foot. At this small distance he could make out the lines of her face, the frustrated eyes accented with lines that came not from laughing, but from years of cynicism and squinting. Though she appeared to not be old, threads of silver streaked through her dark hair, just at the temples. Her arms, bare from her sleeveless tunic, were crossed with scars of various shapes and sizes. Some seemed more fresh that others. "Answer one, or all, or any combination that you choose, but I need answers. Now." She really had little in the way of a consequence, but she hadn't gotten that far, yet.

She was unmoved by the hardening of his eyes, though the expression did not go unnoticed. She was simply difficult to intimidate, especially when riled up the way she was. "Sage," she repeated, and her tightened eyes relaxed. She was pleased to finally get an answer or two. She asked him to save her? That hardly seemed likely, but she couldn't remember that part. Her mouth moved as if she were chewing, but the expression on her face did not change. "If I did ask you to save me," she started, "Then I thank your for doing so." She was hot-headed and impulsive, but chose her words carefully when they were important to her. Pekmae heard a beep and looked around for its source, but there was no time for her to find it, or even ask, because the strange Sage was trying to get rid of her.

She looked into the meager room he was showing her, then nodded her head about the news of her ship. "Good." He told her to eat, then departed quickly, and Pekmae stared sullenly after him. "First you tell me to come, then you tell me to stay; impossible man," she muttered and went into the room. She wasn't hungry, and the food didn't seem that appetizing to begin with. She sat and for a few minutes looked around. Stray hairs fell into her face, so she decided now was a good time to do something about it. She made herself comfortable and commenced to braiding the long, dark locks. There wasn't really much else she could do.

Pekmae was intent on her hair and not paying attention to much else. At long last she had it braided up and away from her face and neck. It circled her head like a halo. She'd been told it made her look gentle, motherly, and while that was not... ideal... at the moment, it was the best and most secure for keeping her hair out of the way. Sometimes she did think her hair was its own living entity and lived only to make her life more difficult. But she would not shorten it. She had, just once, as a young bride and new mother. The consequences were devastating, and she vowed to never do it again. With her attention freed for other things, she was aware of the lupine in the close quarters with her. Her eyes widened with a hint of surprise, just passing their natural size.

"And how long have you been watching me there, hmm?" she asked in her softer voice. Animals were like children, in her mind. They could be dealt with gently, until they attacked. She wondered if this was the plan, if she were to be watched wrestling this wolfish creature for sport. But the door was still open, so she did not think that was the case. Still, it would have been nice to have her blasters handy...

Pekmae did not make sudden movements, or very many movements at all, as the creature stared at her intently. She watched his inquisitive eyes and wondered what he was thinking when he woofed, right in her face. The sound, so loud and threatening, so close to her face, startled her and sent her aching head into a pounding head. She angrily remembered there were no blasters as she squinted her eyes closed and pressed her fingers against her temples. "Hush that!" she said in the special voice reserved for misbehaving children. It was a scold, and sounded vaguely like a hiss through her clenched teeth. "I have a head injury, and your racket makes it ache horribly." She did not know if the lupine understood her words. It didn't matter. She had an awful tendency to speak to everything as if it understood. When the throbbing stopped she opened her eyes and lowered her hands, then gave the beast something of a smirk. "Are we to be friends, then? Or do you want to eat me. Because I warn you, I'm tougher than I look." Perhaps he was attracted to her fresh wounds? It didn't matter. he was here, now, sitting a little too close and the mysterious Sage was nowhere to be found.

Pekmae felt frustrated when the beast barked at her again. Apparently her scold was not fierce enough because he did not seem deterred in the least. He had the look of want in his eyes, but what the want was she wasn't sure. She wasn't accustomed to friendly beasts... she typically ran into wild animals that wanted to eat her, or guard animals that wanted to eat her. It was her natural assumption that all animals wanted to eat her, though she was never afraid. That only made them hungrier. The lupin edged closer and Pekmae watched him warily, but before she could react he was half into her lap and looming over her. The great paws hit her legs, narrowly missing the gash in her thigh, and she winced at the weight. She felt its hot breath and was utterly disgused as a thin line of saliva dripped from the lolling red tongue and slid down her bare, scarred arm. She moved her arms up and back and was considering a hearty shove when Sage reappeared. "What does it look like is going on?" she growled, her temper rising. "Your beast has me cornered."

Pekmae was unhappy. She was unhappy that the beast had cornered her and she was unhappy Sage took so long to call it off. She inhaled deeply as the unwanted weight left her lap, and she did a quick probe of her leg injury. It seemed fine, and she opened the eyes she did not realize were half-lidded. Then she quickly stood, which made her head spin. But the lupine couldn't sit on her again, without her permission. "Where are my blasters, and what are you doing here?" Those were the questions she'd had unanswered, from before. Those were important. But others nagged in her mind. "Are you the one who cared for my injuries?" She didn't ask where he'd gone, or what he was doing, because she did not feel it directly involved her. She was a survivalist, right now. She wanted to live through the next few days so she could fix her ship and risk her life elsewhere.

She nodded and tried to remember dropping her blaster, but couldn't. They must've been near the ship. He had questions for her, which was only fair. She didn't have anything hide. Well, not much. The first one was easy enough, but she waited for the second. She didn't believe the words from his mouth. First, she swooned and her eyelids fluttered as those peculiar violet eyes started to roll back, as though she would faint again. She took a backwards step and regained her balance and shook her head. "I'm here because I crashed," she said. It was a fair answer. "DenJie...was he here?" She was back to looking quite fierce, though her face remained pale.

She'd called him that? Color rose in her cheeks; it was a slightly embarrassing situation to be in. She focused her keen eyes on the strange Sage, paying particular attention to his face. Well, the hair was about right and his eyes... wrong color, but she had taken a pretty good knock on the head. As for who he was... She could answer, but she didn't want to. And it showed, until she steeled herself with a deep breath. "DenJie is my husband," she said, her tone belying more heartache than she thought she felt. Then she clamped her mouth tightly shut, more willing to talk about her space travels than her family.

She hadn't eaten, but she didn't want to. She felt sick. Admitting her marriage to a stranger was hard. Too hard. Wasn't that why she'd left in the first place? To get away, to ports and places where no one knew her as the wife of DenJie, only as Pekmae. Pekmae the pirate, at times. She was glad he didn't ask anything of her further, because already she felt her hardened edge melting. She was heartsick, weak and tired from her battle and crash. She wanted to rest. What she really needed was a cantina. But a bedchamber would have to do.

Pekmae was not paying attention to the rooms. She was not captive, and she was not on a mission. She'd crashed, and she was being cared for, and therefore did not have need to be sneaky. Not reconnaissance sneaky, anyway. Normal sneaky was always appropriate. Even if he'd left her, she would not have bothered anything she found. Unless he left her for days. Then she would have rummaged a bit and tried her hand at the locked door. She was a skilled slicer and hacker and always enjoyed a new challenge. She saw the platform and pulled herself up straight. She looked at the lupine, who had stopped following them. "What's wrong with him?"

Pekmae didn't mind the creature, but despised its loud bark. She muttered under her breath as it went down the hall, her annoyance with it masking her failing front. She again focused on not fainting and standing upright as the platform moved. She was glad for a rest. A sudden through pulsed into her brain and she slit her eyes at Sage. How did she know she could trust him? Would he try to kill her in her sleep? Or...even worse... perhaps he would try to take advantage of her. Though she didn't mean to, she shook her head. No, she decided she did not trust him, right now.

Maybe he was going to kill her, afterall. She suddenly didn't trust the platform, or the entry, or the way he gestured she should go first. But she did, none the worse for wear. She went up to the open door and turned, so she could watch him, her hands on her hips and her hair braided like a halo around her head. She looked a little like a space pirate. Or maybe a mercenary... but she wasn't armed heavily enough. Wife? Mother? They didn't seem to fit her, right now. That was how she wanted to keep it.

Pekmae turned her eyes to the distant barking, then focused the cool violets back to the mysterious Sage. He was close, too close, but she was not intimidated, or uncomfortable. It was a bluff, she knew. "We shall," she murmured in response. She felt naked without her blasters and it seemed, just for a moment, like her eyes wavered. She was ready to lie down, but she would not admit it. Not yet.

He seemed like he was up to something. Or, that's what it seemed like to Pek. She slit her eyes and watched his back as she followed him. He'd deposited her in the room with the strange lupine, then left on a mysterious errand. Now she was following him back, presumably back to where she came from, and he was... Was what? Not nervous. Not edgy or antsy. It was something more subtle, something forcibly flattened under the currents of his surface thoughts. The pirate arched her eyebrow; perhaps she should ask him something afterall...

Was there anything she needed? Of course there was. She needed to get her things. She needed to get back to her ship, which she needed to dig out of the ground and fix. She needed to get off of this rock. She smirked. She needed a good, stiff drink. She needed to have eaten, though she didn't. And she needed to lie down, before she fell down. She'd entered the room and looked around a little, and was now facing Sage with her hands on her hips. "Sure, there are lots of things I need," she settled on as a response. "But for now I just need to lie down." She looked at him, warily, then crossed to the bed and sat on it. "And I need to know your intentions with me," she said while she pulled off her boots and unclasped the holsters from her waist.

The pirate smirked and pulled her feet up onto the bed. She didn't feel safe, but at least he was funny. She grimaced as the lupine appeared and fell into the pillows. That, of course, made her head hurt, but that was nothing new. And it felt good to close her eyes. She stretched out, glad for the cool bed and distracted from his question. She was lying on her back, eyes closed, when she remembered and smirked afresh. "Good luck." Despite his resemblance to her husband, she was not attracted to him. And, if he truly did have those intentions, well... she'd put up a helluva fight, first. The thought broadened her smirk into a smile.

She was glad to be lying down, otherwise she would've been floored. But, as such, she had a moment to prepare. The question surprised her, but she almost expected it. The smile faded from her face and she opened one eye, looking some backwards to see him. "I found this place by accident," she said. How much of her mission should she go into? Maybe a little more. "I was chasing another freighter that was trying to land before I found it. I got him, but not before he got me. So I crashed." That sounded pretty good, so she closed her eye again. "As for what I'm hiding from... if I knew, then I'd tell you." It was the truth, and her heartbrokenness leaked into her voice. She didn't know what had prompted her to leave. Something. Her leg twitched and she wondered what had tipped him off to her hiding? Why hadn't he assumed she was -looking- for her husband? Probably her demeanor, though she conceded she easily could've said something. She had a head injury, afterall. The thought made her smirk. That was nothing new, either.

She followed him to the platform. When he asked where she was from, her eyes glazed over a bit. It seemed family, or history, were emotional subjects for her. "You never asked before," she said, stalling. Where was she from? The better question was where wasn't she from? "I was born on a quiet, backwoods world," she said. "When I was little I took in with pirates and smugglers and the like, and lived in ships right up until about the time I was married. Tried to settle down on another backwoods world, but it didn't stick. So, now I'm back to living in ships." Her voice started low, soft, as she skirted around memories that were too close for comfort. But it finished in something closer to her usual tone. The trick was to shove everything down, as if it didn't matter, and keep it hidden and locked away. She looked at him without turning her head much. "You've still never told me what you do here."

He'd gone too far, and something in his stance let her know that he knew. She adjusted her body so she face him fully, and leveled her best scathing glare at him. If he looked at her eyes, he'd see they were not as cool, now, and sparked dangerously. "My family is none of your concern," she growled. She wanted to punch him, or shoot him, or something. But that was uncivilized, and she still needed his help. At least for the moment. She turned back to face forward, her arms folded across her chest. "I never said anything about stealing or killing. I'm a legitimate business woman." It was true enough, for what he needed to know about her.

He was quickly getting on her nerves. But, she knew her truths. She knew that she had to stay on the right side of the law, at least for her family's sake. She couldn't afford to make any new enemies; she had enough already. And, if she was caught with something illegal and detained in some port authority, she didn't want her Jedi husband traipsing across the galaxy to bail his pirate-wife out. It looked bad for his Order. Besides, when she'd first left them all those months back, she hadn't been in the shape to do much of anything. It'd taken a lot of tight jams and close calls to get her skills back up. Heightened. She'd never lost them, but they'd definitely gathered dust.

Pekmae stepped off of the platform behind Sage, not bothering to respond to his "long hike" comment. It didn't merit a response. She was aware of the sound of the falling water. Maybe she'd go find it, before she left. That could be something nice to tell her kids about. Kids... hmm... thought of them made her smile, just for a moment, then she quickly walled it all away. They were so small when she'd left, and she was sure they'd grown. But, she didn't want to think about it anymore, and focused on gathering her bearings so she could make this trip by herself, if need be.

Pekmae was only interested in the landmarks as a means of mapping this place. Not being from here, it all looked about the same. And, truth be told, her tracking skills weren't what they once were. They were never really exceptional to begin with. Pekmae, too, was sweating and the pushed the damp, short bit of hair away from her face. She'd have to pin them, soon. But not yet. She adjusted the packs she'd strapped on, the heavy canvas starting to cut into her arms. When she saw the hull of her ship, she felt revived and was ready to make the rest of the journey. She wanted to press on, to charge blindly through the tall grasses. Then she remember her ... encounter... with one of the locals, and decided to stick with her guide. "Lead the way, Slick."

Pekmae did indeed take over. She broke away from her following position and walked under the ship's partially exposed belly, eyeing the damage. She walked around the front of the ship, then down the other side, until she was where she started. It didn't look so bad, but it would need some repairs. After she got it righted. She took off the packs and dropped one, then dug through the other until she found her gloves. Then she dropped the second pack and climbed up the ship, until she could reach the still-open hatch. She stood on top a moment, then took off the gloves and looked at Sage. "Coming?"

Pekmae felt the bit of breeze as she waited for Sage to finish his climb. She looked around but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "Ever rain here?" she asked, mildly curious. And then she was shimmying down into the hatch, the hot metal stinging her hands. The rounded corridor was slanted, only about 30 degrees or so. The inside of the ship was hot, steamy, but Pekmae was glad for the shade. "Rusty?" She started walking towards the cockpit, checking her ship from the inside. "Rusty?" She called again. When she got to the cockpit she found the droid, his yellow eyes dark. She frowned and reached for his power button. He was hot to the touch, but powered up well. She helped get him untangled from the straps, but left him to stand up and move around on his own. "Plug in," she said, "and talk to the Arkayis, so I can figure out how to get us out of here." She then left and traveled back up the corridor, looking for the tree-dwelling stranger. "Sage?"

Pekmae rounded a corner and found him, just up the ramp, if the ramp had been settled properly. "There you are," she said loosely. Almost cordially. She walked over too him, and it looked like she swaggered, though it could have been the slant of the ship. "I've got Rusty talking to the ship, but I need to check on the cargo. Follow me." She led him down the corridors, through a lounge-area and past a few small doors. One was open, and inside was a little cot and a few boxes, jumbled from the landing. The emergency power let her open the cargo hold, but the door would not close behind them and the lights were dim. "If the containers aren't damaged, then the cargo is okay," she said, beginning to inspect her shipment.

"Look for damage to the containers," she said, squatting from view to run her hands over the plasteel cylinder. She stood back up and started with the next row. They were stacked two high, to chest level, in long rows that were two wide. It made a maze of the hold. She leveled a long gaze at him, running her hands down the side of the next container. With more light, she probably would have only looked at them carefully. But, she didn't want to worry about a shipment on top of everything else. "Cargo," she said cryptically, then ducked down to run her fingers over the base of the bottom container. "Nothing that will hurt you if you touch the outside of the container." She stood back up and started with the next one. "You gonna help me or not?"

"Then tell me," was all she said. If the container were damaged, there was nothing she could do, for the time being. She needed to have lights, and to be level, if she were to fix anything. Speaking of fix... She'd made her way to the back and started walking back to the front, in time to hear clumsy footsteps shuffling through the corridor. "Pekmae," an unmistakably tinny, inhuman voice said. Pekmae grumbled something about speaking privileges and the droid seemed worried, if droids felt such things. "Done talking to the ship?" It nodded. "And?" The droid was silent and Pekmae tapped her foot. "The port landing gear is stripped, as are the starboard sensors. The ship is partially submerged on the port side, but the shields absorbed most of the shock from the crash." Pekmae narrowed her eyes, and the droid shifted. "Er...landing." Pekmae nodded. "What about battle damage?" The droid shifted again. "We've lost the quad lasers, there are no more missiles, and the shields are offline. Also, the starboard engine needs desperate repair and the hyperdrive is nonfunctioning." Pekmae frowned at the bad news. Did she have the extra parts? As if reading her mind, Rusty answered. "If the ship can be righted, most everything can be repaired or replaced." Pekmae smiled, and decided it was time to celebrate. She turned to look for Sage. "That's good, I'll get the rest later," she called. "For now, I need a drink."

"C'mon," she said, breezing past the droid and leaving the cargo hold. She heard a metalic footstep behind her and whirled. "Not you," she said, jabbing her finger at the droid's humanoid head. "You... fix something. Stay outta my sight." She really didn't like him, and it was fairly obvious from her actions and tone. But, they still had a decent working relationship. Most times. She left the cargo hold again and went back past the closed door, and the open door to her jumbled bunk, and into the lounge. She opened a storage unit and hissed a curse when she found the broken bottle. Some were still intact, but the broken one was a messy inconvenience. She grabbed out two glasses then sat in one of the seats along the wall. She poured a glass of the liquor for herself, and a glass for Sage. She balanced his drink on her leg, since the table was slanted, and drank her first one before pouring another.

Pekmae was resting, her head resting against the lounge wall and her eyes closed. The familiar taste of the liquor soothed her and, as she relaxed, she thought of ways she could modify the lounge so the seat reclined more. It was nice. It was stifling hot inside the ship and her tunic was nearly soaked, but she almost didn't mind. Having a drink was worth it. She did not move but opened one eye when she heard footsteps. She took the glass that was balanced on her leg and held it out to Sage. "Want a drink?"

Pekmae poured another drink for herself, her third now, and drank it quickly. She had her eyes closed, again, and seemed calm. She rolled her head from side to side, just slightly, as he tried to speak. "Just enjoy it," she murmured. She heard footsteps again and raised her head and opened her eyes to glare at the droid. It seemed not to notice, and went on its way to the engine room. When it was good and gone, Pekmae smiled and rested her head again. "He's a good droid, he really is. Quick learner, handy with the ship... not a bad co-pilot, most times. Even used him as a business liason, once." She opened one eye to Sage, as if she were telling him secrets. The liquor was loosening her up, just a bit. "But I hate droids, and everyone knows it. So don't let on that I think he's alright."

"We all have dark pasts," she said softly, tilting her head to look at the bottle. Why didn't she like droids? "They're no good. Pretentious. Noisy. Cumbersome. Clumsy." Her brow furrowed and her expression darkened. "It was hard to get work, when I was young, because of the automated droid pilots. Still hard to find work, sometimes." She trailed off, and didn't pick back up. There was more to it, of course. There was always more to it. But, that was all she would say. Another drink into her glass then into her belly. If she'd been alone, she would've skipped the glass altogether. It was a step she didn't need. She was a hard drinker, and always had been. But, she had her tricks.

Pekmae's eyes narrowed. Who was he to tell her what she needed to do? She finished her drink then took the bottle. She looked at it for a second, then touched it to her lips and gave him a long look, then turned the bottle up. She drank for a while, then set it back on the table. "We can get going, whenever you're ready," she said. He'd had enough. Probably too much. This was her way of saying so... unless he brought up her family again. She stood up and stretched, then sealed the bottle and put the glasses away. She'd clean them later, or have Rusty do it.

Pekmae was sitting in "her" room, fiddling with a few of her smaller projects. The Arkayis was well-under repair; the biggest thing was getting it leveled again. She knew what had to be done, but she was avoiding it. Tiny holochips sat on the bed beside her. Once and again she'd activate one and stare at the images they projected. She looked up and activated another one, at random. She smiled at the image; she was young, hardly more than a kid, and she had a small boy balanced on her hip. He had dark hair and bright blue eyes, and Pekmae looked like she always did. She had lost herself in memory when she thought she heard a yell. Had she? She peeked her head out of the door and looked around. "Sage?"

She ducked back in and scrambled for her belt. She shoved the blasters in and left the room, cinching the belt as she went. "What's going on?" she called, slightly muffled as she put her eyes back on her belt. She grunted and started walking, guessing completely, and occasionally hopped as she tightened the holster on her thigh.

Pekmae jumped as the beast barked past her, then rolled her eyes. She'd been here for days and still wasn't used to it. Him. Whatever. Her holsters secure, she followed him through the secret passages until they found Sage. "What's going on?" She asked. "This happen often?" She didn't really know what else to say, or do. She was sure he'd tell her.

Pekmae just nodded and sprinted to her station. She didn't know what she was protecting. She didn't know who she was protecting it from. But she knew that tone of voice, and didn't question it. She was stuck here too, after all. It wouldn't do any good for her to ask questions and waste time. She settled into the seat and took a hurried moment to glance over all of the controls. She selected the manual override, like he said, then grimaced as an alarm sounded. She grabbed the controls for the turret and shot off a few wild rounds. "Oops," she grumbled to herself. "Let's try that again, Pek," she said. Now that she had a feel for it, she found the target in her sites and locked on. It looked liked a war droid, but she didn't recognized the model. She didn't know if it was armed, or shielded. A quick scan and a deep breath and she started shooting. She aimed for the highest joint on the leg, because it looked, to her, like the weakest point. "May the Force be with me," she whispered.