Well I'm prepared to
Fight and defend you
I'll never doubt you
A ribbon tied to
Above it's their time
Down here it's our time
Ah, ah never say die
-Sleigh Bells, "Never Say Die"

It did not make sense to her why it was so hot, just that it was. It wasn't like Mars was any closer to the sun than Venus was, yet the red planet was positively stifling with heat. Perhaps it had something to do with its proximity to Jupiter, but she didn't know. Science was not her strong suit, she had basic understandings of a lot of things but that didn't mean that she could outright attest as to why it was miserable out here. Just that she could complain about it and the assignment if she really wanted to be bitchy about anything.

Her gaze caught sight of one of the two moons that claimed the planet, or perhaps that the planet claimed them ultimately. Which one was it, she couldn't rightly say. She wasn't a native, she was going to stick out as it were, and her geography knowledge was probably only barely above that of science. She was more concerned about picking out possible ambush points than to know that Olympus Mons was steadily growing in the distance.

Of course she didn't have to be a native to know the name of that particular peak; it was a massive landmark for the entire planet. The report said that the Priestess was in that direction, and that the pick up point was near the opposite way. Of course that was how it always worked, you couldn't have a linear path of travel to make it easier. Instead you had to stop along the way, you had to backtrack, you had to go completely out of your way. There was no such thing as a straight route, no matter how great that would be.

Her route though had been thankfully free of most outside obstacles. Sure there were still the rocks to contend with, the sand, and the overall effect of the weather but she endured it silently enough. Her boots; the same treated white leather as her gloves and sword belt, handled the terrain well enough. She was not one to normally care for boots, having far more a preference for the sandals she wore at home or even on the Moon. Maybe though it was better to call the Moon home, since home itself, her planet, was turning into a second thought after a while. An afterthought of saying that was where she hailed from. Important, but not really that important.

Over an outcropping of rocks, she wound her way down into what would possibly be a valley. Her gaze darted from side to side, as well as before her, wary for the possible ambush. It was a perfect strategic place to hold one, as anyone down where she was at would be at the mercy of an attack from both sides. With no where to run save straight ahead or to turn tail, by the time it would happen the prey would be dead. She wore a grimace well, knowing that by walking here she was symbolizing the prey. At best, all she could hope for was that there was no one actively here.

And so she went, cautiously but quickly enough she made her way through the growing canyon. Fuck this was going to be something else if it turned out to be a dead end was a constant enough thought, the sides were growing further and further shear that scaling them would be near impossible, even if she had brought rope with her. The sides were growing taller she promptly realized, the ground was sloping further down. It would take her hours to backtrack if she was forced to.

Booted feet slowed for a moment, then to a pause, then a stop. Was this even the right way? A cartographer could make their living and that of their next ten descendants for a detailed map of this system. Hell, just of this area alone. Maybe just around this turn. If there was nothing there, she'd grudgingly admit to taking the wrong path and turn around. Settled to her resolve, her hand reached to touch upon the side of the rock as she approached, using it for balance as she carefully stepped around…

Right in the point of a spear that was levied directly at her face.

Her eyes widened out of habit when so faced with death directly. Especially when you could be so up close and personal with it. Short of a sword at her back…

No wait. There was now one there, she could feel it before it moved up, skirting the length of her cloak and pack, to rest its remarkable cool surface to that of her neck. Another blade she felt; possibly from the same person, this one's point dug just enough to be felt under the leather at her shoulder blade of her right arm. She would give them that, they knew where to place their weapons. If the spear to the face did not kill her, then the blade to her arm would incapacitate her, given that she was right handed and would need to cross draw her falchion. The one at her neck would sever an artery, and just like that she could bleed out.

Fuck.

Fuck indeed.

If this was not the Priestess' camp, she was possibly in for it. Slowly her arms rose, feeling the bite of the blades at her body and a look down the spear point, before they relaxed when the grizzled looking man in front of her; dark of hair with a scraggly beard that she would put at middle age yet skilled, took the gesture for one of surrender. Palms outward to him, she took in a slow breath, calming herself and giving both that had her at their mercy a moment to relax before she spoke.

"I mean you no harm. I'm seeking a Priestess and have no grief with you." Her voice was soft, lilting, yet commanding. It was alluring, speaking of her heritage, her upbringing. She was cultured through and through, calmly speaking even if this was not where she particularly cared to be. As she spoke she was afforded the opportunity to take in a look beyond the one with the spear, though she did note him. Blackened mail with plate, dark garments worn under that. They were either black or blood red, or they could have just been that dirty too. The man did not look too dirty though, save for the beard, but it gave him character that oddly was complementary to him.

He wore no helmet, his hair was cut short in the style of a military one which caused her heart to sink just a bit at the realization. A belt at his waist bore a short sword, with the hilt of a two handed one peeking over his shoulder. Beyond him looked to be a small camp, set deep enough in the canyon that unless they had look outs, they too would be at the mercy of an ambush, equally from above.

What drew her attention though was movement, neither figure; the man or the unknown at her back, did not move, nor did they so much indicate they understood her language, but something had moved. She had chosen to speak in the more common tongue in hopes that the barbarians before her understood that because she didn't know Martian for shit. It was not her primary language, nor was it her native Venusian. The movement was quick, she could not make it out, before it vanished behind the man in front of her.

They still made no move with their weapons, prompting her to open her mouth again when the voice at her back spoke, belonging to a male. "So says every other spy that we kill." The point was emphasised with a press of the sword to her neck. It hadn't broken skin yet, but it was truly testing the resiliency that she possessed. She was growing tired of this already, her mind quickly racking itself for a way out of the situation she was in.

"Wait. Let her … speak."

The movement that had been playing with her peripheral vision moved out from behind the man with a spear. The figure emerged, and with it, commanded her attention. A woman, dressed in loose pants and thick boots, a flowing shirt that was certainly flattering to the female body all covered by a hooded, though open, robe of black and lined with red. The figure was nice yes; she appreciated beauty because fuck, that's who she was. The embodiment of Love and Beauty.

But the eyes are what captured her attention first and foremost. Calling them amethyst did not do them justice, for they were deeper than that. Violet was far too common, as was just a simple purple. They were like the night sky personified, the clouds before a heavy storm. They were enchanting, dazzling, piercing and intelligent. They fit perfectly to the face of surprisingly pale skin, contrasting the messy bangs of darkness that was her hair, covered by the hood she wore.

She was speechless.

Fuck, was she ever.

She said not a word. She missed everything that transpired from the moment her gaze met with the woman's own. She missed everything from that moment forward, lost and transfixed, wondering why the woman would scowl so, why would she be angry when she was so beautiful… such perfection given flesh…

"Kill her."

The words snapped her out of her reverie, watching in almost slow motion as the spear was drawn back to be thrust forward, as the sword left her neck to come back with a kiss of steel and flesh. She turned quickly, presenting both only her profile; a smaller target to hit even though it was pointless to given that she was trapped. Her hands went out to both, the universal gesture to stop as her voice rang out the same, "Stop!"

It seemed to both amuse and anger the woman further, but it stayed the blades from her body. "Why should they stop to kill you? You're a spy, or a scout, likely leading a host down here to take me. I won't go, and I don't care how many of you I have to kill to prove that point." Her head jerked a nod to the man with the spear, setting him back on task of apparently ending her life.

Fuck no, not on her watch. She did not come all the way to this barbarian planet just to be killed by the apparent henchmen of the Priestess she was meant to bring back to the Moon. She swore an oath, she had a duty, and nothing was going to stop her. Nothing and no one would stop her in it. Not a spear, not a bodyguard, not a…

"We found her!"

A different voice now, one that commanded all their attention turn. It came from behind her, spotting her the chance to see it was another man who held the blades that had been at her back, dressed near equally to the one with the spear. She ignored him, looking to where most certainly a scout in a uniform completely different than the one she was accustomed to seeing since it did not match the Priestess' henchmen, was raising a battle axe while another man; they scouted in pairs, they were intelligent, raised a short horn to sound their location.

Fuck indeed.

It wasn't a word but it was certainly a sound of disappointment that came from the woman now behind her. Her charge. She had to bring her back. Her mind made up her hand dropped to her sword, the one with the spear would be too late to stop her. The scouts were closing in but even at a run, it would take them minutes to reach right where they were at. Minutes she did not have, but minutes she would demand all the same.

Drawing her falchion she watched as the woman moved to step back; she wasn't armed she dimly realized, relying on the two men to slow her down while she either escaped or came back with her own weapon. She moved, but not how it was anticipated. She knelt instead in front of the Priestess, her falchion balancing on her outstretched hands, the edge pointing in her own direction.

"I swear to protect you, to defend you, and to guide you. I will not let death claim you on my watch."