"I thought I could trust you!" Sabine's words still echoed in her mind. She could still see her former partner's devastated face as Ketsu left her behind. It had been nothing personal, really. It was survival. Sabine was never cut out to be a bounty hunter. She was far too soft to kill for a living. Ketsu would be better off without her, right? At least, she told herself that. It kept the guilt away.
Ketsu entered the Shadowcaster and sighed. This is what she wanted. Without Sabine to drag her down, she could finally achieve her dreams. She could join the Black Sun. She could be who she had always wanted to become. Sabine would always be too weak to join her. She called herself a Mandalorian, yet she never acted like one. Sabine was no pacifist, but no warrior either. She was certainly nothing like her Death Watch mother. Compared to her brutal yet respected family, Sabine was pathetic. Ketsu did not need someone who was such a disgrace to their family as a partner.
Ketsu's gaze drifted to the wall of the Shadowcaster's cargo hold. It was covered in colorful paintings that Sabine had done. Ketsu had always hated how Sabine used so much of their hard-earned money for her paint supplies. She also disliked how bright and, quite frankly, cheerful, Sabine's work was. How were they to become the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy when one of them was frolicking around in dark-pink armor and equipped with paint bombs? Or when the last thing their unfortunate victims would see was a ship covered with a plethora of bright colors?
Ketsu opened the storage locker and pulled out a damp cloth and some cleaner. She would not allow her ship to be disgraced any longer. As she began to work at cleaning off her beautiful vessel, she couldn't help but admire Sabine's projects. While they were not Ketsu's style one bit, she had to admit that they were pretty good. Maybe, in a different time, she would have enjoyed them. But they had no place now.
As the cleaner hit the paint, streaks of color ran down the wall and collected in puddles on the floor. The once lovely artwork was now distorted shapes on the bland, gray walls. With each stroke, she watched as she washed away more colors. As she washed away more of her former self. As she washed away more of Sabine.
