Alcander held on for dear life. He had always been none-too keen to flying, but the dust and multitude of rocks clattering against the windshield and the sharp turns was making him even more nervous than usual. It was good he was practiced in keeping his voice steady. 

"I see," He said, bracing his body so he was not shaken about like a mix-drink. He tried not to verbalize his distaste at the mention of Xenos, but he supposed doing business with them was not so bad if it was to gain wealth from drug sales. It certainly was not giving them imperial weaponry to use. Alcander was not extremely devout, but he had seen Xenos twice in his life, and each time they had tried to kill him. He held no love for the bastards. "Bit ye still nae told me when th' stairm'll end." 

"Just a few minutes. They never last too long here," She remarked, banking left and dropping low after cresting a small, jagged rise in the wastes. He wondered by Yvrine had not joined them, but he supposed even with the Rogue Trader dead, there was still a business empire to run. 

Within ten minutes, the wind storm had abated, and the lander was placed a few hundred meters from the scene of the Lord's death. When Camilla stepped out of the transport and strode ahead of him, Alcander noticed her movements were fluid and poised. She traversed the gaping cracks in the dried ground and numerous sharp stones with a dancer's grace. He had no doubt in his mind she was an acrobat, perhaps an entertainer of sorts. 

"What was yer relation t' the auld man, Lord Othelio." Alcander asked as they walked, glancing left and right, wary from the new terrain. 

"I am...was, his cousin. I have been in his retinue a handful of years now. He had no other close relatives." She said. 

His brows raised. "So...ye to be his successor?" 

"Yes," she replied. She had a faint accent, not nearly as pronounced as his own, but he could not quite place it. But beyond that, she had essentially just informed him she was a princess of a multi-planetary dynasty and trade empire. Briefly he wondered if his manners had been adequate, but dismissed the concern as silly. What was more strange was that she was out here alone, with him. She must really trust him. He felt somewhat flattered, and that was hard to do. 

"Here," she announced, stopping at the top of a gulley. It's length spanned for a few kilometers, he thought, but it wasn't too deep. Perhaps five meters, give or take. He stopped beside her, hands in his pockets as he peered down. Just as he imagined, the rocks were scattered, likely from the previous, or many storms over the last few day/night cycles. 

"Let's gae doon." Alcander said. 

Camilla reached for a small satchel in her belt. "Yes, of course. First let me-" 

Her words were cut short as the pebbles her right foot rested on gave way, and the leg flew into the air. She tossed her hands up as her footing was compromised, and she gave a peculiar squawk. Had he heard the noise from afar, he would have looked on incredulously, but as he was right there and quick, he grabbed her flailing hand on instinct, planting his foot on a stone and helping lessen the fall so her rump did not bruise as it brushed the stones. 

"Ye alright?" He asked her. She blew some loose strands of hair out of her face and regained her standing position, brushing her backside and leggings off. 

"Yes, thank you. The rocks are treacherous, be careful." She advised. Alcander nodded, but hid a smile at the irony of her warning. The two traversed down the slope of the gully moments later, and juxtaposed to her momentary loss of balance, Camilla flitted down far more nimbly than Alcander, and he felt he was pretty light on his feet, generally. Once they reached the bottom, her keen eyes examined the ground, and she placed a well-manicured finger to her lips, before pointing a few meters to the left. "We found his body right there." 

"Can ye shoo me exactly how it ley?" 

"Show you?" She asked, clearly wondered if he meant she should lay on the rocks. 

"Place yer feet where 'is feet would bae, and face the direction he ley." Al explained. She took a moment to get her bearings, and did just that. She seemed to be facing southwest, if he had an accurate summation of the direction of the sun through the remaining haze, an aftertaste of the storm. He went over and knelt down where Camilla's indication would have his stomach be, and examined the rocks. A few moments went by, and he began to move a few of the smaller stones aside. Curiously enough, he found no blood. He reached into his duster and pulled out an Auspec, and scanned the area. 

"Some traeces o' organic matt'er," He breathed. "But nae blood."

He blinked, a realization dawning on him. "Don't Rogue Traders have a wee servo-skell?"

"Yes, but we couldn't find it. After we found him, we simply assumed whoever killed him stole it or blasted it to bits." She said. "We could not access it remotely when we attempted." 

He rose to his feet, and gazed down the gully. "Les gae ep top and luuk aroond. If it was doon 'ere we'da seen it."