Ilion could see the disappointment, and he almost felt a little bit of remorse.  He could’ve been gentler about it, but why?  He’d already teased the man earlier, so perhaps putting down some sort of realistic boundary for both of them was better, especially if Urudal was going to start getting all sappy on him.  He couldn’t have someone chasing after him after they got off the planet, including in a romantic way.  How in the hell was that supposed to even work?  A mercenary and a bounty hunter sounded like a bad combination.<br/><br/>Watching as Urudal got up and started to get dressed, the mercenary listened to his reasoning.  Yes, he’d had the opportunity to kill his hunter.  What good would it do him, though?  They were stranded on an alien world that hadn’t been properly explored in quite some time.  Who even know what kind of predators were there, thriving?  While fast and skilled at combat, there was no denying that Ilion lacked his accidental companion’s brute strength.  That very well could’ve come in handy, both in the wild and in physical labour getting the Sidriel back up and running.  Why would he sabotage himself right out of the gate?<br/><br/>“I’m unfamiliar with your technology,” he offered up as another reasonable argument for his uncharacteristic streak of altruism.  “Just as you are unfamiliar with mine.  If either of us are to get off this planet, we’ll have to combine tech, patch my ship’s damaged parts and systems with yours.  I wouldn’t even know where to begin taking that thing apart for what I need, and you’d never be able to get my ship to leave the planet without me.  What good would it do either of us to get trigger happy?”  He went to fetch his own clothes.  Whether his hair or skin was still damp didn’t seem to matter; they needed to head back while they had the sun.<br/><br/>“All that being said… I might’ve killed some people, but it’s not like I did it for fun or pleasure.  Or even revenge.  I’ve only ever done what I had to in order to survive.  I only tried to kill you up there because I didn’t want you killing me.  Capturing me and taking me in is as good as a death sentence, too,” he admitted, by that time putting his shoes back on.  He checked the band on his wrist, punched in a few things, and nodded.  “Anyway.  Ship should be safe to check out.  I’ll get a full analysis tonight, we can eat, get some rest… and look into our options in the morning.”