a pretty petal becomes a thorn in your side
Thick clouds of dust rolled across the planet's surface, disturbing the loose sand. The winds made the sickening heat just that much more bearable. The sun was close in its rotation, beating down harsh rays as hot as the Sahara deserts of Earth used to be. People were clustered close together in a trading village at the heart of one of the most heavily populated shantytowns. It was built in the middle of a crater formed long ago by space debris. Sand dunes reinforced with terracotta and wood planks were used to keep the majority of dust storms at bay. Greyish sand was golden in the rays of sunlight. The majority of the residential town was stuffed in the ring-shaped crater, and the trading market was located in the center, higher up.
Multiple shops were set up, selling various items. Jackson leaned over the top of the display, glancing over the products. Her mouth was idly chewing on a piece of dried sweet grass, eye's flicking from produce to produce. Most were fruits or vegetables that were only grown on this planet, but surprisingly enough, some seemed to be imported.
"What are you looking for, traveler?" The shop-keep asked in the mother-tongue of the planet. Most that could survive, and chose to survive here, were lizardfolk. Humanoid figures with scaled skin, tails, and slitted pupils. Knowing the people of this planet, this was a test. It was a simple one, too. Respond in their language, and perhaps they'll strike a deal for you. Respond in your own, and they'd make you pay full price; without the hospitality of customer service, to make matters worse. Vendors were often times kinder to those from their home planet, since Mercurian wasn't exactly taught in anywhere other than here, not to mention it was a purely oral language. The only problem? She didn't know the language past simple conversation.
"... the.. purple one." She responded, trying her best to tone down her dialect.
Though, it didn't matter much. He could easily tell just from her clothing, if not the high-grade prosthetics, that she wasn't from here. She was dressed in fine fabric, albeit dusty from the planet's atmosphere. A scarf was loosely wrapped around her shoulders and over her head, protecting her shoulders, head, and face from the sun. A dark-colored tank top with a belt full of supplies and tactical gear. Her pants were baggy, tucked into light gray boots. She had tried her best to blend into the sea of drab colors, but her arm was drenched in glossy white paint. Fully functioning finger tracking was also a dead give-away. The man leaned back, pushing his weight to one foot as his eyes raked over her. He drew in a large breath.
"The purple fruit? What will you give me for it?" He grumbled, plopping into his chair.
"200 credits should be enough, righ-?" She was abruptly cut off.
"No credits."
"...No credits... alright, um." She paused, before shuffling around, searching through her pockets. The only thing she could scrounge up worth the same as the fruit was her old hunting knife.
"This?"
The man took one look at it, and then returned his steely gaze back to the fruit. He reached forward and snatched the knife from her hands, unsheathing it to inspect it thoroughly. There was really no need, after all, it was really just a knife, and she didn't need that fruit.
"Take 4. 'Purple' fruit only," He scoffed, waving her off quickly.
She wasted no time gathering up the fruit in her arms, each about the size of her head, and nodding to him as she tucked the third fruit underneath her chin. She supposed she could've tied them in her scarf but she would've easily gotten burned by the sun. So, instead, she barely made it back to the ship with her arms so full, and admittedly dropped one during the trip. The ship was a short ways away from the town, docked just behind the soft sand dunes that encapsulated the shanty-town, but it felt like forever. She ducked past the tarps set up around the ship's entrance to keep the dust out, and traveled up the ramp into the right-side hangar.
"Ward?" She called out for the cook, her voice echoing.
"Ward?.. Anyone?" She tried again. All she heard was the hum of the ship's generator in response. She let out a heavy sigh before she looked to the stairs, preparing for the daunting task of carrying the spiky purple fruits up those stairs, and all the way to the back of the ship. They had been gathering supplies all day, and there was only one hovering vehicle that someone was currently using to haul back the last of the necessities, so she had taken a short trip into town to find something she liked. She had bought a handmade bracelet made from a basaltic mercury stone called sipi, but that was the only vendor she had found that accepted credits.
While she was climbing the stairs, she glanced out the window, gazing casually at the sun. The sun was still extremely bright to look at, taking up nearly 40% of the sky while only halfway tucked behind the horizon, but the generators placed around the planet helped with that. They were large structures, almost like power lines without the cable, dotted across the planet to make it habitable. This had been done to nearly every planet, but the technology still left her in awe. They doubled as both oxygen and atmosphere cleansers, and helped with temperature regulation. Still, they weren't perfect. She blinked, coming back to as she glared at the rest of the stairs. It was as if they were taunting her, telling her that she wouldn't make it to the top with all four of the fruits, and the inanimate stairs of her thoughts were probably correct.
thorns that draw blood
