Frost dipped into the cargo bay and began peering through the canvas around the crates that she split open with a knife. Electronic parts, tools, food, frozen water, even fucking cash stored in the back. This was good, but she wondered what the others were looking at right now, guns, maybe lots of guns? She’d have to clear a path to get this stuff freed from the ship. But-
"Vazyrin here. Skala group detected. Around 12 of them, no firearms. A click or so away from our position. I cannot tell if they are here to scavenge or if they are a territorial patrol. That's not all."
"There's something else - the pilot has gone to investigate it. I can't detect it properly from here with the atmospheric conditions however. Some sort of electronics. Someone ask them whatever it is they've made contact with."
That couldn’t have been avoided, really. Skala took whatever they could when they could take it. Living here was rough, especially when you’re trying to start a colony and don’t already have a foothold. Frost didn’t want a firefight breaking out, but none of them had guns. Maybe they were coming to see what’s happening, or maybe they were here for the ships. Frost was hoping they could skirt around anyone and get out of orbit before someone got in their way.
”Great, yeah- see what you can do. If they just got sticks ‘n knives or whatever we’ll be fine. Don’t wanna get nasty though, don’t start shooting til they start swinging, got that?”As Michael hid from sight, he could see the Skala wandering forward, evidentially towards the crash. Their motives remained unclear.
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