Keldabe, Mandalore
Jay opened the door to her apartment and slipped inside, careful not to make noise that would wake any of the building's other tenants. She noticed that her apartment comm had missed two calls. One was from a friend of hers, Loren Atin, informing her about a sale on pistol ammunition on the next Market Day in the city. The other was from her… well, she wasn't sure if she could classify him as her boyfriend yet, but she used it for lack of a better word.
"Hey there, Jay," he said. "I guess you're still out there somewhere dealing with that emergency. If you get the chance, call me back. I'm worried about you."
She pulled off her jacket, throwing it on the couch in the open area of the apartment she had transformed into her living room. She picked up the comm and hooked it into her ear as she stepped up to a chest of drawers. She opened the top drawer, which was filled with foam insets. Resting inside were two high-quality blaster pistols and three hourglass-shaped stun grenades. She took them all and set them gently on top of the chest.
She typed in her boyfriend's comm number and waited for him to pick up. He answered after only one comm buzz. He sounded a little out of breath, as if he had run for the comm.
"Hey," she said with a smile. "You asked me to call you."
"I did. Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Why do you sound so worried?"
"I heard there was an attack in Keldabe. What happened?"
"My partner has someone trying to kill him," Jay explained as she opened the second chest drawer. Resting inside was the battered black armor she had worn during the Supercommando deployment two weeks ago. She had been told to keep the armor when they had returned to Mandalore, with the explanation that she would need it again.
"The guy dropped in on us while we were trying to track him down," she said, debating whether or not to take the armor. She bit her lip, then pulled the heavy chest piece out of the drawer and dropped it onto the couch next to her jacket.
"Is everyone okay?"
"We're all fine," she reassured him. "But I'm afraid our catch-up date is going to have to be postponed. We have a lead on the guy and we're heading to Mon Calamari to follow up. I may not be back for a couple days, a week tops."
There was a long pause over his end of the comm. Eventually he said, "But you just got back. Can't your partner deal with this?"
"He… he could," she slowly said, "but he's already almost been killed twice already. He needs help and he doesn't really trust anyone but me."
He sighed. "You know you don't have to go with him everywhere he goes."
"I'm his partner. I have an obligation to help him."
"Not really. I mean, partners can get some space from each other. Why don't you tell him you're going to sit this one out?"
"I… I can't," she said. "I'm one of the only people he trusts."
"You do realize that he managed perfectly well without you? He was a bounty hunter for years before he ever rescued you from that prison."
"Yes," she said. "And you're right; I could sit this one out. But it's my choice to help him."
He chuckled. "I applaud your loyalty, Jay. It's a good sign for our relationship."
She smiled as she opened the bottom drawer of the chest. Inside were stacks and stacks of tibanna gas ammunition. She pulled out a ten-clip stack, bundled together by a length of adhesive tape. "I'm glad you think so. But I have to leave. And I can't change that."
"Okay," he said. "I'm just asking you to think about what I said. If you hang around him too much, he'll grow dependent on you. He won't be able to function without you."
She paused, thinking over that. It wasn't as crazy as it sounded. She already couldn't think about hunting without her partner. She didn't know what Vhetin thought about the subject.
Would that really happen? she thought. Would I dull Cin's abilities by helping him too much? What if the reason this assassin has been able to get the drop on him is because he's come to depend on me watching his back?
She shook her head. "I don't know about that. All I know is that he needs my help and I'm going to go to Mon Cal with him."
"Okay. I guess I know better than to argue with you by now. Just be careful, okay? I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," she said. "We don't even know if he even went to Mon Calamari. It may just be a wild bantha chase."
"Banthas can still trample you," he pointed out. "Especially wild ones."
She laughed. "You worry too much. Just keep a bottle of tihaar on hand. The way our dates keep turning out, I may choose your apartment as our next get-together location. It would sure be a hell of a lot easier than planning out dinner dates that keep getting canceled."
"I look forward to it," he said. "Call me when you get to Mon Cal?"
She nodded. "I will. I'll talk to you later."
She signed off the comm and tucked it back into her pocket. She surveyed her assembled gear and shook her head with a frown.
This mysterious attacker was getting on her nerves, even though he hadn't actually tried to harm anyone but Vhetin. There was something about the way he treated Vhetin, the way he'd winked playfully while saying, you aren't that surprised to see me, are you?
The man's casual tone, even though he'd been staring down the blade of Vhetin's saber pike, had struck something in Jay. It almost seemed like the man knew something she didn't. As if…
As if what? she thought to herself. Am I really starting to think this guy… what, knows Vhetin? That they were buddies?
She told herself to stop thinking up conspiracy theories and get to work. It was obvious just from Vhetin's reaction to the man's presence that they were definitely not friends. The fact that her partner was devoting so much time and effort to tracking him down was evidence of that.
Stop trying to think about what you don't know, she thought, remembering some of her earlier trainings with Cin, and focus on what you do. Those are the keys to finding out just what the hell is going on.
So what did she know? The list wasn't extensive.
She knew that Vhetin's attacker was serious about bringing her partner down. He had attacked Vhetin twice in the same day, both times laying traps for them that Vhetin had somehow walked right into.
She knew that the man had some kind of advanced Special Forces training. He had to; no one else could have almost killed Vhetin and Kalyn Farnmir. They were both as tough as bounty hunters came and only a seriously well-trained soldier would even consider going blaster-to-blaster with them.
She knew that the man wore some kind of crude helmet, but exactly why was still a mystery. Did he want to hide his face because he was simply shy like Vhetin? Or was he afraid that Vhetin would recognize him?
She rolled her eyes. Great, she thought, now I have to add my allies to the list of possible culprits.
Finally, she knew that the man was possibly retreating to Mon Calamari, the oceanic home of the Mon Cal race and the slightly more hostile species, the Quarren. It was common knowledge that the Empire had a powerful hold over the planet and its renowned shipyards, but why a mysterious killer would travel there was beyond Jay.
Then again, that's why we're heading there, she thought as she began loading her gear into a rucksack. To find out who the guy is and what he wants with Cin.
She wondered just how her partner was dealing with this. He was paranoid enough already, and having a bloodthirsty assassin on his back wouldn't improve his mood.
Brianna will probably be able to loosen him up, she thought. She's always been able to snap him out of his worst moods.
And there was another problem facing her partner, one that would probably be much harder than unraveling the mystery of his assassin: how to make up with his pissed-off girlfriend.
Jay had been in the hangar bay when Brianna had slapped Vhetin, and she could still remember the shock at seeing the two so obviously angry with each other. Yes, they had fought in the past, had sometimes gone over a week without speaking to each other. But as Brianna had stalked past her, Jay had gotten the feeling that this time was somehow different. That it had suddenly grown a lot more serious.
She sighed and shut the drawers to the chest, letting her hands rest on top of it, feeling the rough wood beneath her fingers.
It almost seemed like everything had suddenly gotten more serious, more complicated. Gone were her superficially carefree first days on Mandalore, where the planet had seemed so full of life and mystery. Suddenly she was being thrown into life-or-death situations on a regular basis and the small problems she had noticed at the beginning of the year had only escalated.
She chuckled quietly, though there was little humor in her heart. The sound echoed through her empty apartment, ringing back to her like the fading laugh of a ghost.
I never thought I'd be the nostalgic type, she thought, slowly sitting on the couch. But here I am, wishing we could go back to the 'good old days'. Back when it was just me and Cin, hunting down scumbags in the criminal underworld.
She stared into the shadows for a long time before she thought, screw it, and fished her comm back out of her pocket. She hit the redial button and waited.
"Back so soon?" her boyfriend's voice said after two hailing tones. "What's wrong?"
"I…" she hesitated. "Can you come over?"
"Sure. What's the problem?"
She smiled and shook her head. "Just need to see a friendly face."
"This whole deal you're wrapped up in is freaking you out, isn't it?"
She had no problem admitting it. "Yeah. It is."
"Have you thought about what I said?"
"I have," she said. "And I'm more convinced than ever that I need to go to Mon Cal."
"Okay," he sighed. "I guess I'll have to live with that. Can you wait fifteen minutes for me to get over there?"
"That'll be great. As long as you're here before I have to leave in the morning."
"I'll be right over," he said, and signed off.
Jay tossed her comm onto the couch next to her. She rested her head back against the couch and rubbed her tired eyes. She stayed that way for a long time, covering her eyes as if by blocking her vision of the world, she could also block out everything that was pressing in on her.
Vhetin's bastion, Kelita Forest
Vhetin brought Void down in a cautious landing in the forest clearing near his home. The tall grass beneath the ship waved violently in the engine wash of the transport. He flipped a couple switches and there was a large clank from somewhere deeper in the ship as Void's six landing legs extended and connected with the ground.
After he ran the post-flight diagnostic, he unclipped his crash webbing and stood. He punched the opening stud for the cockpit door and made his way down the central corridor of his ship.
So… he thought as he lowered the ship's exit ramp, the Tracker's heading back to Mon Cal. It's been a while since I've been to that soggy hellhole. Maybe we'll get lucky and see a glimpse of the sun this time.
The last time he'd traveled to Mon Calamari, the city in which he was hunting had been in the midst of a powerful hurricane. He, Jay, and Brianna had almost been killed just by the weather.
As he made his way into the woods, he thought, Why would he go there, though? I mean, the place has a powerful Imperial presence, but apart from that… there's nothing that I can think of. And the Imperials won't offer any allegiance to him under any circumstances.
He found himself cursing the Tracker as he ducked under a large, gnarled tree that had shed most of its leaves. They crunched under his heavy boots as he made his way through the forest, which was a wash of bright reds, oranges, and the green of conifer trees that didn't shed their needles in the fall.
So he's not going to Mon Cal because of any Underworld contacts or Imperial backup. The only alternative is… what?
He sighed and gave up his contemplations, at least for the moment. He just didn't have enough information to make a good hypothesis. Maybe once he reached Mon Cal he could reach out to Tish Wouta, a shady Nautolan mechanic who also happened to be a popular contact among bounty hunters. Though dealing with the alien left a bad taste in Vhetin's mouth and the squid-head had betrayed him often in the past, there really wasn't anyone else on the planet as connected as he was.
He hopped over the small stream a couple hundred meters from his vheh'yaim. I found Pelano to be more trustworthy. Annoying, with a dubious interest in Brianna, but more trustworthy than Wouta.
He sighed in relief as the dome shape of his bastion came into view. Under normal circumstances, he would have loved to grab a few hours of sleep before leaving, but if we waited too long he'd risk losing the trail on the Tracker.
He quickly typed in the security code for the bastion's front door. The heavy durasteel barrier opened with a loud clank and slowly slid open. He sighed again in relief and closed the door behind him. He stepped further down the hall and pulled his helmet off before clipping it to his belt.
His home was fairly Spartan. He owned nothing extravagant, only what he absolutely needed. Granted, the subterranean house was a little larger than he needed, with over ten rooms that branched off from the circular center gathering area, but he found the extra space useful for storing weapons, rations, and ammunition. He had even converted some of the rooms into training rooms or shooting ranges.
He passed into the main gathering area, or karyai, a circular room with five halls that led deeper into the bastion. He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary at first, but he paused when he entered the main room.
Brianna was sitting on the couch, watching the local HoloNews. She didn't look at him as he stepped through the entryway, just kept her eyes fixed on the viewscreen of his holomonitor. She had her arms folded neatly in her lap and her legs were crossed. She looked like she hadn't moved in hours. The flickering light of the holomonitor illuminated her face, making her look pale and ethereal in the darkness.
"Bri?" he asked slowly frowning as he turned on the overhead light. "I didn't know you were here. I didn't see Blood Lily in the clearing."
"I hiked up here," she replied in a quiet, even tone. She didn't look at him. "This afternoon."
"Why?" That would have taken hours of trekking through unmapped forest, as well as some fairly extensive rock climbing. "Why not just fly up here?"
"It gave me time to think. I… I needed to sort some things out."
He sat next to her and tentatively took her hand. "Bri? What's wrong?"
"Get your hand off me," she snapped, and he jerked away.
She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. With the click of a button, she switched off the HoloNews and shook her head. "I'm sorry Cin. It's just that I… I don't know what to do with us."
Then it clicked: he had been out of contact with her the entire day, Venku had been asking around about a mysterious attacker, and word traveled fast around Keldabe.
Like Vhetin, Brianna knew exactly who the Tracker was and why the man was after him. She wasn't stupid. She could put it together that the Tracker was – or had been – in Keldabe and he hadn't commed to tell her he was in danger. Again.
She released a shaky sigh and looked over at him. Her eyes showed a sadness that was beyond tears. "Ever since Tachador… and that Protector deployment… Cin, I know why you didn't call me and I don't blame you for that. You couldn't risk bringing the Trandos down on your head. But you didn't even bother to give me any clues about whether you were still alive besides a few footprints or bloodstains on a bed sheet. I didn't know where you were, whether you were hurt. For the longest time, I thought… I thought you were…"
Her eyes began to water with tears and she broke off, taking a moment to compose herself. Eventually she looked at him with clear eyes and said, "Cin, I can't help you anymore. I can't stand by and watch you continue to destroy yourself while you refuse to let me help you. And I can't… I can't keep hoping that you'll miraculously go back to being the man I fell in love with. I'm sorry, but you and I… we're over. It's done."
"Bri-" he began.
"Don't," she interrupted. "Just don't. I've been thinking about this for a long time now, and I'm certain I'm making the right decision. For both of us. I just hope you'll be able to see that in time."
She stood with a shaky sigh. "I need to be alone for a while. I need time to come to terms with my choice, so please don't call or visit me for a week or so. After that… we'll see where we go from there. But I just… I can't go on like this any longer. I'm sorry."
She strode away, heading for the hall that led to the front door. He stood and followed her. As she pulled open the heavy entrance door, he took a deep breath and finally threw everything to the wind.
"Don't go…" he said, so quiet he could barely hear himself speak. He suddenly felt very small and afraid. "I love you, Bri."
He knew it was too late now, that no amount of affection or whispers of love would change either of their minds. But it was the best he could do.
She paused, a smile playing across her lips. She looked up at him, tears just beginning to wet her eyes again. "I know you do, Cin. And I love you. But you don't need me. You never have."
"That's not true," he said. "I wouldn't be standing here if not for you."
"But that is what's not true," she said sadly. "You'd be here whether I had helped you or not. You don't need anyone, Cin, and that's what makes you such a good bounty hunter.
"It's the reason we've struggled so hard these past years, and it's the reason we can't be together," she continued. "You can't change who you are, and it's not my place to ask you to try."
"That's not…"
He sighed and let his shoulders slump in defeat. It was no use arguing. Everything she said about him was true. He was cold inside, dead, and no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't be able to change that. She wouldn't be able to rekindle that spark of himself that had died sometime so long ago, and it was an insult to her to make her try.
She hesitated, bit her bottom lip, then moved back inside. She gently stepped into his arms, holding him close. For the first time in his life Vhetin genuinely responded, putting his arms gently around her waist and hugging her back.
"I don't hold anything against you, Cin," she sighed against his shoulder. "I'm just telling you what I see. And no matter how much I love you, there's only so much I can take. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," he whispered into her hair. "It's me. It's always been me."
She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and kissed him. She pulled back quickly, as if the gesture would make her change her mind, then rested her head against his chest plates again.
"If it's any consolation…" she slowly said, "I don't think there's anyone out there as unique as you. You are the most amazing man I've ever had the privilege of knowing and I know that you'll pull through this deal with the Tracker."
After that they lapsed into silence, holding on to each other tighter. They stayed that way for a long time, gently rocking back and forth and holding each other as if their lives depended on it. Vhetin closed his eyes, losing himself in the embrace, in the feel of her body and the smell of her hair. He didn't care about his faults and failures. He didn't care that one of his final ties to sanity was being severed before his very eyes. Here, at the end, he finally felt the love that he'd been attempting to feel for so long.
It wasn't quite love; it was sprinkled with the sadness of losing Brianna at the very moment he finally opened up to her. But it was an emotion nonetheless and one that Mandalorians had a very special word for, a word that almost everyone interpreted differently. For Vhetin, it described the unbearable bittersweet moment when he finally broke free of his emotional restraints, even if only for a moment, and simultaneously lost that which mattered most.
Aay'han.
It hurt, to be sure. But it was a facet of love all the same and he basked in it, trying to make it last as long as possible before it vanished into the bottomless void that was his heart. It had to end sometime, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it while it lasted.
So he held her. Because in the end, she was all that really mattered.
She pulled away after what felt like only moments and stepped away, clearing her throat self-consciously.
"Anyway," she said, her voice shaky and hoarse. "Um… I'm not going to ask you to explain yourself about not contacting me about the Tracker. After all, you have your reasons for everything you do, right?"
He nodded, unsmiling. "Yeah."
She turned to the door. "Then I'll see you around, Stripes."
"Yeah," he agreed, his voice suddenly hoarse. "I guess."
She nodded and opened her mouth as if to say more. She seemed to change her mind, closed her mouth, hesitated, then promptly walked through the door and disappeared into the dark outside.
Then the door slammed shut behind her, leaving him alone both physically and mentally.
The bastion was silent around him.
He sighed and turned away from the door. He suddenly felt as if the entire galaxy had deserted him, as if his entire being was suddenly empty. And it wasn't the calming focus he felt while working or fighting. All he felt now was an aching, empty hole where his heart used to be. He shook his head in despair as his gaze fell on his helmet, still clipped to his belt. He slowly unclipped it and raised it, studying it with narrowed eyes.
That helmet, with its black-painted beskar and the two gray stripes up the left side of the helmet dome… it symbolized everything he'd come to hate about himself. His shattered life, his cold heart, his inability to maintain the fragile connections he'd made with the people he loved. And in that moment, he hated himself and everything he stood for more than anything else in the galaxy.
Cin Vhetin was a lie. A lie that had ruined his life.
With sudden violence, he hurled the helmet across the room. It bounced off the wall of the central room and spun to a halt on the carpeted floor, still staring up at him with that remorseless, pitiless T-visor that he despised so much.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his back hitting the wall behind him. He didn't cry; he hadn't cried his entire life on Mandalore. He just stood alone in the dark, trying to come to terms with this new self-inflicted wound he'd brought upon himself, and the new hole it left within him. He eventually slid down the wall until he hit the floor and buried his face in his hands.
He stayed that way the rest of the night.