Mik could feel the heat radiating off the sand even before he stepped down from the Viper’s ramp. It felt like he was dripping with sweat by the time he’d only gone a few feet. 

He blinked sweat out of his eyes as he stared across the silvery, moonlit desert. He could see some outcroppings of rock in the distance, probably similar to the ridge he’d parked the ship behind, but nothing else. If this is what it’s like at night, I don’t think I want to be here when the suns come up. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” He turned back as Darryn came down the ramp behind him. “There’s nothing here.”

“The camp’s on the other side of this rock.” Darryn looked around as if he was getting his bearings. “The people here don’t trust technology, so we’re walking the rest of the way.”

Mik nodded and scanned the horizon, taking a deep breath. It was nice to breathe some fresh air, hot though it was. He could hear the others making their way down behind him, carrying Jaxon on a stretcher. “Should someone stay with the ship?”

“Not unless you want to roast when the third sun rises.” Darryn turned to look at the ridge behind them. “We should have some shelter from the rock, but when the heat starts bouncing off the sand…”

“Say no more.” Mik pushed a few buttons on his gauntlet computer. “Remind me to program some air conditioning into this thing when we get back.”

“Shouldn’t we be bringing supplies?” Eralis grumbled causing Mik to sigh. “I’m not trekking across a desert with nothing to eat or drink!”

Darryn ignored him. “Mik, shut down the ship and make sure she’s locked up. Honor, keep an eye on our guest, and do try to keep him quiet. These people don’t trust outsiders.”

“Yes, Captain.” Honor put down her side of the stretcher and  took ahold of the Fed’s arm. His hands were tied in front of him, his uniform was wrinkled, and he was starting to look a bit less put together than he had when they met him on Slater’s Run. 

“I can walk by myself, Steeleyes,” he growled. 

“I am certain of this,” she responded calmly. “But best not to get lost in the desert with no water.”

Mik pressed another button on his computer and watched as the ramp slowly retracted into the Viper, sealing her up. Though he was sure the captain knew what he was doing, it still felt wrong to leave her out here all by herself. 

Darryn took Honor’s place on the stretcher and helped Rocky to lift it. “All right, gang. When we get there, leave the talking to me. Don’t make any sudden moves and don’t reach for any weapons.” He glared at Eralis.

The agent huffed. “How can I reach for a weapon I don’t have?” 

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” Darryn turned his back on Eralis and began leading the way down the sand alongside the rock outcropping. 

Mik spent the majority of the walk in a state of nervous excitement and anticipation. He’d never met any members of the Painted Tribes before and now they were about to walk right into the center of one of their camps. He didn’t know much about them and what little information he could find was contradictory at best. He genuinely didn’t know what to expect. 

The rest of the group was uncharacteristically silent as they walked, with the shuffling of sand and occasional grunts of exertion being the only thing breaking the silence of the journey. Mik wasn’t sure whether the silence was because of the heat, or because of Jaxon’s still form. Mik knew he was certainly doing his best to avoid looking at the stretcher. 

Darryn led the group along the base of the cliff until they came to a small opening in the stone. It took a moment for Rocky to squeeze through, but once they were inside the path widened out a bit. The canyon cliffs were so sheer that the moonlight was blocked and they had to pull out some glowlights to see the path. 

After an hour, the hairs on the back of Mik’s neck began standing up. He felt extremely uncomfortable, like someone was staring at him from high up on the cliffs. When he looked however, he couldn’t see anything, and he didn’t see how anyone could climb such sheer cliff faces. 

It must be my imagination. He shuddered and tried to ignore it, but the feeling just grew stronger and more insistent. 

Shortly after this, Darryn stopped and motioned for Rocky to put down the stretcher. “Everyone stay calm,” he said quietly. “Don’t do anything until I tell you to.”

“Is trouble?” Rocky’s rumbling voice echoed off the stones, filling the canyon even though he tried to keep it quiet.

“Hopefully not.”

Darryn slowly raised his hands and took a few steps forward, calling out in a strange, guttural language. 

There was a pause. Then Mik caught his breath as he saw several figures materialize out of the darkness in front of them. They were shorter than most humans, with the tallest being about five foot tall. They wore nothing except short cloaks about their shoulders and a cloth around the waist, and they were carrying what looked like spears. Their skin and hair were pale white, and apparently covered in painted red and brown lines. No two seemed to have the same pattern though Mik could see several similarities between them. Their eyes were slitted, making them look as if they were constantly squinting into the sun, and their faces were stern with angular features. 

One of them stepped forward until he was only a few paces from Darryn while the rest took up positions behind him, spears held at the ready. The leader looked Darryn up and down, saying something in a demanding tone. His voice was rough and grating, but it sounded like he was speaking the same language the Captain had called out in. 

Mik shuffled his feet awkwardly as Darryn answered back. He desperately wished he could follow what was happening. From the looks of things Honor felt similarly, and Eralis was looking extremely uncomfortable with the whole affair. Only Rocky seemed at ease with the situation, but it was sometimes hard to tell with him.  

There seemed to be a disagreement among the Painted Tribesmen. Two of them were chattering excitedly at the leader, pointing towards the Viper crew and gesturing in an animated fashion. The leader was growling back and gesturing with his spear. 

Mik swallowed nervously as Darryn continued negotiating with the tribesmen. What if they attack us? What if they won’t let us pass? What’ll we do then?

A quiet sound drew Mik’s attention to the stretcher. Jaxon’s head was tossing from side to side, fevered grunts and coughs racking his body. 

Mik’s breath caught in his throat and he took a step towards the stretcher. The tribesmen reacted immediately, lowering their spears as their leader barked out an obvious threat. 

“Don’t move, Mik,” Darryn said quietly, but sternly without even turning around. 

“Captain, Jax is getting worse!” Mik called out urgently, his voice cracking a bit 

“I know, Mik.” Darryn turned and gave him a stern look. “Stay put.”

Mik nodded and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. 

Rocky slowly reached out and placed a huge hand on his shoulder. “Captain know what he doing, Mik.” 

I know… But it was hard to sit there and feel so helpless. 

Finally the leader seemed to come to a decision. He barked orders at his men, and two of them ran off into the darkness, disappearing farther down the canyon. The rest began to form up around the Viper crew as the leader gestured for them to follow him. 

Darryn nodded and said something in the other language before turning back to his crew. “They’re taking us to the village. Stay calm, and don’t make any sudden moves in their direction.”

“Just how is it that you speak the language of these savages?” Eralis demanded.

Darryn ignored the Fed, picking up the stretcher again and following the tribesmen down the canyon. 

Honor prodded Eralis to get him moving. “The Captain lived among them for a while.” 

“Odd. They don’t strike me as the most friendly of people.”

“He said they don’t trust outsiders,” Mik said quietly. “How do we know they’ll help Jax?”

“The Captain lived among them.” Honor pulled Eralis back to his feet as he stumbled over a rock. “They consider him one of their own. And the Painted Tribes take care of their own.”

Eralis huffed. “The Painted Tribes are a bunch of little savages running half naked through a desert. Even if they do help you, what exactly are they going to be able to do that the equipment on your ship couldn’t do better?”

“Watch your tongue, Fed. These ‘little savages’ have managed to survive in an environment that is nearly uninhabitable for most life forms. They may know something you do not.”

“I find that highly unlikely.” Eralis attempted to look as dignified as possible, though the sweat plastering his hair to his forehead made it quite difficult. “All they know is how to hide in caves when the sun comes out.”

Mik glanced at the tribesman walking closest to them. He seemed completely at ease walking barefoot on the sizzling sand, and though he was sweating, he was nowhere near as drenched as any of the crew. 

He seemed hardy enough. But his gear did seem primitive in comparison to the weaponry carried by Mik’s crew members. Was Eralis right? 

No. Darryn said they could help Jax. And the Captain always knew what he was doing. 

At least, I hope he does.

Suddenly they were out of the canyon and onto the open sand again. The leader shouted something to his men and they prodded the crew to turn right. Darryn was already going that direction, and as soon as Mik followed suit he gasped in surprise.