Savages of the Sacred Salvage

You fight to get away from the demon locust and wind up sprawled on a hard, cold floor. The light is blinding, and before your vision returns, you hear voices.

"What the hell? There's a woman there!" The strangely accented words sound like they come from a young man, about your Chameek's age.

"Oh. Hey Bob! Got a native here!"

"Aw damn, another one?"

"Is this...normal?" the young man asks, still sounding bewildered.

"Yeah, unfortunately. They worship the old construction equipment down there and take it real hard when the salvage drones mess with them. At least this one isn't painted up and screaming bloody murder."

"Jesus. That sounds annoying."

"It is. Starting to become a bit of a problem. Anyway, this one is lucky she wound up here and not at the base of some bloody mercenary corp. Prim-Xen charter protects old human colonies gone primitive too, not just xenos."

You blink rapidly a few times, not really understanding any of that. You can make out two human shaped forms standing nearby now, with a third looking in from a chamber behind them. Scrambling to your feet, you realize you're still clutching your knife.

"HEY. LADY. CAN YOU UNDERSTAND ME? WE'RE NOT GOING TO HURT YOU. BUT I NEED YOU TO DROP THE KNIFE," the older man standing closest to you says, speaking very slowly and loudly, as though you are stupid.