After the pirate's assault on the mobile HQ, they backed off. The pirates wouldn't return for a while.
As the crew continued their base expansion, the days seemed to blur together. Days became weeks, weeks became months, became years. Five years passed, and the base became a full-fledged defensive station. Moisture drills bored deep into the sand, pulling water up for the base. The natives grew fond of the off-worlders, and moved closer to the base. They were now within eyesight of the MHQ, and were more social with the crew. They left bread, meat, even water at the bases entrance, happily living alongside the crew. Even the younger female raccoons grew fond of the male crew members, hoping to secure themselves a mate. One day, an emissary from the tribe arrived, dressed in the best clothing the villagers could muster. He knocked on the entrance gate, smiling.