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"Sounds like a fun lot," Kyra remarked, clearly without sincerity. She smirked again then. "Ya' should quit assumin' so much, though. Y'already seemed a tad surprised that we got machines. I might jus' surprise ya' again."

In fact, if she faced him in the pits, it'd be a perfect excuse to just kill him and be done with it - his as yet unprocured water be damned.

Zeke seemed about ready to go off on another propaganda-spree as she made her remark, but her assertion had him earnestly considering things for a moment. While he really hated to admit it, she did have a point. The worms had surprised him, as had the common use of fairly sophisticated fire-arms... Both could have easily killed him under the right circumstances. The next surprise could likely prove lethal if he was caught in some pit surrounded by savages in a gore-soaked death match for spare change. The alien decided that perhaps he would just watch a few first..

"What sort of salvage will be available? If there is sufficient material to be had, I should be able to build or repair a vehicle into working condition for our use. Based on what I have seen so far I might be able to scrounge up enough to start the process of nuclear fusion too. An.. improvised powercore should allow us to travel at an acceptable speed." Perhaps the locals would have work orders to be filled? It was easy for Zeke to think of machines again. In a sense, he had literally been bred to be a technician. While Kyra did annoy him to no end, the giant had never really considered what it would be like to fight her. She was too useful to him for that.

"Always varies," was her simple answer.

Rather than walking the whole night, Kyra decided it'd be good to get some shut-eye, at least for the coldest part of the night. She didn't bother mentioning it, though. The elf simply kept her eyes open for a good spot, plopped down, and started digging through her bag. While Sand Elf cloaks were excellent at temperature management, a fire and a bedroll - thin though it was - tended to be helpful.

Zeke was so distracted by his ponderings that he actually kept walking for a good while. Eventually, he noticed that she was gone, and the giant followed his footprints in the sand back long enough to find her. The sand elf probably had her camp mostly set by the time that she showed up, which was fine with him. All of this primitive survival stuff was fairly new to him. But, at least he'd still be more useful in regards to engineering and combat, should the need for either ever arise.

The alien didn't like to be considered a liability. For his kind, it was literally a death sentence. And so, he simply laid down next to the camp fire and went to sleep without saying anything. His borrowed cloak didn't do much to cover him, but at least it kept the sand out of his face. He still clutched his borrowed rifle, too.. And his eyes never seemed to close, even when he was most assuredly asleep. It was probably sort of odd to see him almost perpetually staring off at something the entire night.

Kyra watched the fire as she chewed away at some of the elf jerky. Now and then she glanced over at the sleeping man, considering killing him as he slept, cowardly though it was. The way his eyes stayed open was a deterrent, though. While she knew of cyborgs, she had very little experience with them, and couldn't be sure if he even actually slept. Even if he did, he could well have some sort of alarm system wired into him. Besides, she had told him that she wouldn't just kill him like that if there was no need to.

Ultimately, she opted for sleep. She lay down just far enough from the small fire to avoid catching fire herself, bundled tight. The elf lay on her side, one ear to the ground, the other listening to the air, and she did not rise again until the frost that settled in began to thaw. Provided Zeke didn't make himself trouble, anyway.

Zeke half expected her to try and ram a knife into his stomach as he slept. She could probably cut him up just like her kin, and sell his cybernetic parts for a tidy fee, provided she could find someone tech-savy enough to recognize their real worth. But, the alien was too tired to feed his paranoia and spend the entire night awake. While his body's systems were functioning as intended to shunt out pain and fatigue, the rigors of the crash would eventually catch up to him if he didn't rest.

Though his eyes remained open, it was pretty obvious that the cyborg was snoring at some point in the night. He passed out hard for several hours, which was good, because the frost would have made it difficult to sleep otherwise. The alien eventually rose and opted to stretch out. Despite the dampening systems, he always felt a familiar ache when he slept on the ground.

Zeke's morning thoughts about how to re-wire his nervous system for good to fix that problem took a back-seat to a rather sweeping view of the desert just before dawn. This was how his ancestors must have lived. Sleeping on the ground, eating anything to survive.. Perhaps they had even looked like sand-elves prior to their ascension. It was difficult to speculate. No art, culture, or history had survived from the time before the Valtradi State. Zeke reasoned that it was deliberate, and ultimately for his own good. There was no point in focusing on the past.

"How much further?"

"Few more hours," the elf said as she tied up her bedroll and stuffed it away. "Market should be in full swing when we get there."

The fire was still burning low. She tossed some gravel on it to snuff the flame out, then packed the remaining fuel away. Once everything was together - quite fast, really - she hoisted her bag back up and started walking again, chewing away on more jerky for breakfast. She didn't intend to stop again until they reached the outpost.

Zeke was already... ready to follow after her once she started walking. The alien did seem to mess with his collected gear quite a bit, though. He seemed to be arranging it so that it would be more difficult to steal. "So, is it strange to eat your own kind? I noticed that you've been enjoying that jerky for some time now. My species does recycle biomass to make new Valtradi, but it doesn't seem like the same thing as... eating them." he mused.

The cyborg had a lot of questions that he wanted to ask her. Chiefly, why she was exiled. The concept of exile was almost totally inconceivable to the alien. But, he didn't want to piss her off enough to have her go knife-crazy.. again.

"Among Sand Elves? Not at all. Tends'a freak out foreigners though." She snorted. "Lot of 'em are damned wasteful."

There was also a semi-spiritual component, a sort of respect in having their kin live on through them - but that was none of his business. Moreso because it was a fate she herself would never receive; she had already been deemed unclean.

Zeke could appreciate resource conservation. But, he wondered if her cannibalistic ways would have any long term health benefits. A species that could freely eat each other.. was one to keep an eye on, for a variety of reasons. "So I assume that there are places on this world that one can be wasteful and survive?" he asked.

He could see the settlement coming up. The various sights, sounds, and smells of civilization came soon after. It was refreshing, but.. not exactly what he was hoping for. It might have actually been safer out in the desert with the sandworms. "Our priority is salvage. I need a vehicle chassis, equipment to generate electricity at a high volume, ionized gas, pressure tanks, and... vacuum tubing?" Hopefully there was decent tech to be had, but Zeke assumed that he would be working with relatively primitive equipment.

"If you help me find these components I'll use them to create a plasma cell that should provide electrical energy for around two hundred solar cycles, give or take. I will use it to power a vehicle that will decrease our travel time. Once our business is concluded you can keep it. I assume that you could trade it for more water than you could carry, at least. Consider it a bonus." He hoped it was a tantalizing offer, because he didn't really have a lot of capital to trade with right now for parts. But, hopefully she had some sort of connections or.. the ability to steal what they needed. It was a pretty ambitious claim, but.. he was an alien cyborg, and also an accredited engineer, so hopefully that counted for something.

"The place ya' wanna get to is one of 'em. Another reason I don't like it."

The familiar sights, sounds, and smells of a desert market filled her senses and her mind with the sense that she was home. Sand Elves had no singular place they called home, of course, but it was still so great a part of her life that any given outpost might as well be home. She chatted as she looked around, easily switching from language to language, though it was the one that Zeke had become familiar with that was used most often.

Kyra turned and looked at him critically as he babbled about what he needed and what he would do. The elf shook her head. "No, all that stuff is your priority. I only agreed to let ya' follow me here. You want me to even consider any more deals with ya', you gimme a proper fight inna pits first."

Zeke was mainly worried about thieves and the like. It was somewhat interesting to see the various species that did business. He had a good view, especially since he stood at least a foot above everyone else in the crowd. The market seemed safe enough. The diversity in both language and trading methods annoyed the alien to no end, though. There was no order here! But, not even a mangy marketplace frustrated the alien quite so much as her mentioning the pits once again. "It strikes me as odd that you would have such an obsession with these duels. I thought that perhaps the harshness of the environment would make your people more predisposed to working together with others." he mused, before he shrugged indignantly.

"If me beating you half to death will prove my value to you, than so be it. Lead the way to this.. arena." He'd have to make sure not to kill her, else he'd have to find another sand elf to negotiate terms with. That might be complicated. Despite her barbarism, she was technically the only sand elf to try and talk with him.

The elf let out a dry laugh and gestured around. "It really look like we ain't cooperating? Spars keep the senses sharp. Fists can earn ya' a livin'. Blades can settle disagreements. And..." She smirked. "...it keeps things fun 'n fresh."

Kyra shrugged. "Anyway, folks don't usually die, 'cept the occasional idiot."

Zeke shrugged. "Not killing one another on sight to accomodate petty financial gain is not cooperation. Cooperation is a concentrated effort by multiple parties to make life better." he quipped back. The alien seemed irritated, but his species was known for a very narrow outlook on life and how it should be spent. "I can't forsee you even hurting me without some sort of weapon. You're too small."

Science was fun. Obliterating the human race, the main Valtradi competitor, in the most efficient manner possible.. was fun. Engineering was fun. Fighting? Not fun. Especially not without a projectile weapon to keep things civil. Her confidence surprised him to no end, though! Was this scrappy little creature really dead-set on fighting him?

"That's what knives 're for." Kyra shrugged and turned to walk away. "But hey, ya wanna find someone else to put up with ya, that's fine by me."

((Sorry it's so short.))

Zeke frowned. Perhaps he'd said too much again. His words were usually backed up with the full force of a mighty empire.. but here.. not so much. The alien briefly considered finding someone else, but he doubted he'd have much luck. He doubted the nature of the proposal would change much between individuals.

Besides, realistically a spar against a much smaller opponent was a pretty good deal if it meant negotiations could continue. If he could get his hands on the materials to build something, he could probably work out a solid deal. But, right now the only currency he had to work with was violence.

"Wait, wait, wait! Fine, you win, sand elf. Just lead the way to this arena and I'll do my best not to cripple you." Zeke wasn't exactly trained or practiced at hand to hand combat. It had been a long time since he'd undergone that sort of training. He much preferred guns. But, he was bigger, and a cyborg. That would stack the odds in his favor. Or at least, so he hoped.

The Sand Elf looked back, grinning. "Aw, it's sweet y'er so worried 'bout my wellbein'. C'mon."

With a jerk of her head, she kept on walking the way she'd started.

It wasn't hard to find the pits. They tended to be kept to the fringes of outposts, holes dug out from the dry rock and dirt and perpetually surrounded by shouting crowds squeezing and shoving to get a better look. There, Kyra headed straight for a small man with a pair of body guards and clearly a decent amount of money.

"Yah. Me an' a opponent I already picked."

"Mm... Eight fights ahead of you," the man said after skimming a sheet. An abrupt roar or cheering pulled their attention. The man, seeming entirely bored with the whole situation, corrected himself to, "Seven fights." He looked back at the elf. "Name and opponent?"

"Kyra Lo'ora."