“Maybe someone should introduce or reintroduce some new plants here,” Fitz commented as he, Jemma, Gamora, and Drax headed to where the ship’s scanners had detected their life form. “Although I suppose there’s not much in the soil right now, and I’m not sure this moss dies soon enough to be relied on to change it; they’d need artificial fertilizer.”
“That makes things pretty complicated,” said Jemma; she was still in the process of reading about interplanetary horticulture, even though she’d started doing so over two months ago; there was just so much to learn before one could even think of attempting it.
The storms weren’t as bad either, what with the moss holding much of the soil down, but they still happened. The wind was still as strong as ever, and when it picked up after about half an hour of walking, all four of them tied their clothes over their mouths, and Fitz quietly sidled himself closer to Jemma.
It made it hard to spot the girl at first; they didn’t until they were nearly upon her. She lay face-down, but they could see her scruffy back rise and fall; she was breathing. Fitz by her side, Jemma knelt next to her and did a quick assessment with her hands. Nothing dire seemed to be wrong with her. “I can’t tell if it’s safe to turn her over,” she started, then nearly jumped back as the girl shifted and groaned, and flipped herself over; she had merely been asleep. Although she did have a nasty scratch on her bare shoulder; Jemma would need to check that for infection the moment they got back to the ship.
They watched her eyes travel from Drax and Gamora, then fall on her and Fitz and, asked, “Reni-unri oansi?” She must have thought them Xandarian, of course.
Gamora reached a hand out of her, and said simply, “Yopxi. Ut usi Gamora, tana ex.” I am Gamora, your sister.