"Keep moving!" the order was barked from behind him and Jett gritted his teeth, anticipating the blow that would follow.

He wasn't disappointed. An open-handed slap was delivered to the back of his unarmored head and he grimaced. Though he supposed he should be grateful that the trooper wasn't using Jett's helmet to deliver the blow. That would hurt considerably more. Beskar and bone didn't mix too well. Still, the blows were meant to humiliate, and they were certainly doing that. The troopers were using his situation to drive home who was in charge, and how little they thought of him.

As it was, Jett limped down the hall, glancing sideways at the troopers who guarded him. Not much had been said since Jett's capture, most instructions being delivered through blows and jerks of his handcuffs. Already his wrists were raw from the experience. Any communication with one another was happening over in-helmet comms, limiting his ability to judge their state of mind or find out what had happened to the rest of the team. He assumed they had gotten out of the facility, but he had no way of knowing. Just as he had no way of hearing his captors' opinions of him. But he could see the recognition and disdain in their body language. He had noticed it before, but as soon as they'd removed his helmet it had changed from a detached emotion to a personal hostility. He was a clone, just like most of them, like those whom he had helped shoot down in the halls. Jett was no longer just a prisoner, he had become an enemy. Jett was certain it was only their training that had kept them from ripping him apart on the spot. Still, he could feel their searing glances, the hostility practically dripping from every motion. And they were doing nothing to disguise it. He had no doubt that he would pay for the betrayal as soon as they were no longer under order to keep him safe and unharmed. He would have to hope that the team came back for him before that happened. Jett looked away, fixing his gaze back on the duracrete walls and struggling with the sense of shame that had been threatening to rise ever since his capture. A feeling he wasn't sure he could hold back much longer.

He was an outsider here, among those who he was more closely related to than anyone. Once he would have called these men vode, brothers. Now they were his enemies, and he was left standing on the outside of a world he had once been a part of.

Jett swallowed hard and looked down, his jaw clenched. Not for the first time this mission he was beginning to question his place amongst the Mandalorians and the team he had become a part of not long before. The Sals had taken him in with barely any trouble, other than a solid punch to the jaw Jett had been well aware that he'd earned. Kidnapping and holding Kadira hostage hadn't been the best introduction, but it hadn't been brought up since. But now Jett wondered if he had made his decision too quickly. He'd left behind the only type of family he'd ever known within a matter of weeks, determined to get back a squad that had been the only true family he'd ever known. Now he knew they were dead, and he was suddenly at a loss to explain why he hadn't returned to the fold. A new squad, a new posting, orders issued from higher up… It was all so much simpler. So much easier than Kadira's way, always having to judge what the right course of action was, having to question every decision, every motivation. The Mandalorians were guided by their code of honor, and Kadira was no exception. And yet as appealing as that was, Jett was suddenly exhausted. He had his freedom, yes. But sometimes he wondered if it was simpler to be told when to pull the trigger, rather than having to decide for himself.

The Empire had killed his brothers. Part of him knew that, rebelled against the very idea. But there was also a doubt that had stayed rooted in his mind, a reminder that he had been created to serve, first the Republic and now the Empire. Now he wondered when he had left that part of himself behind. And more importantly, if it was even possible to do so.

"Traitor," the word was delivered with a none-too-gentle blow to the ribs and Jett stumbled, drawn out of his thoughts by both the insult and the injury. He doubled over, struggling for a breath that was not granted to him as his captors dragged him forward, not allowing him the time to recover.

Traitor, the word echoed in his mind and Jett scowled at the bitter taste of it. Aruetii.

Even among his own, he still didn't belong.


Kadira kept her head down as much as possible, pushing the medi-pad that held Xander suspended about a meter above ground level. The streets were swarming with troopers and mercenaries alike, though the latter had been more prone to give her trouble than the Empire's men. She'd been stopped twice already, but if one thing came of good contacts it was the stellar paperwork she could get a hold of even with such a tight timeframe. None had reason to hold her for long, and there were bigger tragets in the crowd. For now, Kadira was viewed as too much trouble to bother with. A label she was more than happy to hold on to.

::Everything looks clear for you two. Sal, Stazia hasn't given Black any trouble thus far,:: Thalia's voice came over the comm that was hidden in Kadira's ear. Kadira leaned over, pretending to be checking on Xander as she replied.

"Good. Keep an eye on her, and don't let her pull anything. She could bring this whole thing down on our heads."

::We gagged her, to be safe,:: Vhetin informed her, and Kadira had to suppress a grin at his matter-of-fact tone.

"Glad to hear it, vod. Keep me updated," she requested, straightening and beginning to work her way through the crowd once more. She tried to avoid the scattered mercenaries as much as possible without looking like she was doing so. Having a run-in with one of them could prove to be disastrous if it came down to it.

::How's Xander holding up?:: Vhetin asked.

"Same," Kadira informed him. "Nothing's changed, which has me worried. He needs to get off-planet as soon as possible. We can't afford any more delays."

::Affirmative. We'll try to keep you on the clearest path we can,:: Vhetin confirmed.

::Merc approaching from your left, Sal, try to lose him,:: Thalia instructed.

Kadira altered her course slightly, desperately missing her HUD's 360 view. She trusted her team, but it was nerve-wracking to have to rely on someone else for every direction. It reminded her too much of Coruscant, and the disastrous ending to that mission.

A hand snaked out of the crowd and grabbed Kadira's arm, spinning her around violently. She heard a curse in her comm but was forced to ignore it as she craned her neck up at the merc Thalia had failed to spot, trying to look intimidated even as she carefully palmed the weapon hidden in her other sleeve.

"Calm down, vod," the man's cool voice belied his rough grip on her arm. "Just for show. I'm your way off this blasted rock. Name's Erik Kane. Thought you could use some help, since a Merc's been dogging your steps for a while now."

Kadira relaxed, recognizing the man's name as one of Iam's contacts. A beroya, no one especially well known but still a good hunter.

"Try to keep these other mercs off my back if you can," Kadira said, forcing herself to look intimidated so as not to arouse the suspicions of any bystanders. "I need a clear way out."

"He one of ours?" Erik asked, nodding to Xander.

Kadira nodded once in response.

"Alright, slow and easy. You're breaking the law, and I'm taking you in, got it? Nobody here is stupid enough to try to take a bounty away from another Merc in broad daylight. Hopefully we won't get stopped, but if we do follow the story and we'll be fine."

Kadira nodded. "Care to tell me what I did?"

Erik chuckled. "Tried to bribe me, of course. I said no, you got mad, so I took you in."

"Bribery isn't a crime here," Kadira pointed out dryly.

"No, but offering too low a bribe is," he replied easily. "We'll take a detour through the shipyards, lose anyone there, and make our way to the extraction point. Can the other half of your team make it there?" he asked, craning his neck down to look at her as he started guiding her through the streets, Xander's medi-pad floating just behind.

"Thalia?" Kadira asked, knowing the other woman had been keeping up with the entire conversation.

::Vhetin's already redirecting Black,:: the other woman answered immediately.

"He's on his way," Kadira relayed the message.

Their rescuer nodded, weaving through the streets like a local. "How's it feel to be on this end of things?" he asked dryly. Kadira knew he was trying to set her at ease, keep her attention on him rather than the troopers lurking around them and she was grateful for it. It was exactly what she would have done if the roles had been reversed.

"Strange," Kadira admitted. "I'm usually pulling people out of this kind of osik, not getting myself into it."

Erik tilted his head in an amused acknowledgement of the point. "Wish I could stay to help."

"We have enough people in the line of fire," Kadira replied, sidestepping a large pile of debris that had been abandoned in the streets. "Besides, the faster we get Xander and Katar off planet, the easier I'll be breathing."

Erik nodded. "I'll make sure Shysa knows the osik Katar tried to pull."

"Appreciate it," Kadira acknowledged.

"Anything for the vode," Erik replied.


Kadira watched with her arms crossed over her chest as Erik loaded Xander onto his ship. The Hunter had moved quickly, avoiding any further conflicts in the streets. Those who might have caused trouble seemed intimidated enough by the man to leave him, and by extension Kadira and Xander, alone. Kadira had found herself increasingly grateful for the man's help. She had no doubt getting Xander off-planet would have been much harder otherwise, not to mention she would have needed to send more of her team to make sure he got back to Manda'yaim safely. With Katar already proving she couldn't be relied upon, Kadira was grateful to have as large of a team as possible. This next step was going to be hard enough without even smaller numbers.

Stazia had boarded a few minutes before, altogether too quietly for Kadira's comfort. She had a feeling the woman had more cards up her sleeve than any of them could guess. Kadira would have felt much better if the other woman had gone kicking and screaming, possibly even yelling threats. The calm silence the woman had exhibited was for more worrying, and it set Kadira on edge. Something felt wrong, and Kadira resented not being able to delve into it further. She was just going to have to trust Erik to handle Katar and hope the beroya was up to it.

"You don't look happy," Black observed, coming to stand next to her. "This is a successful break, remember? Xander is on his way to medical attention, and Shysa gets to hear about all the trouble Katar caused."

"It all seems a bit too easy, vod," Kadira mused, shielding her face as Erik fired up the engines of his small ship, sending dust and debris swirling through the air. Black merely stood by, protected by his armor. "It makes me nervous."

"You sound like your buir," Black said dryly. "Try to enjoy the victories on occasion."

Kadira glanced over at him, raising one eyebrow pointedly. "I notice you didn't bother to tell me I'm wrong."

Black grunted, tilting his head in acknowledgement of the point. "I don't like it either," he admitted, both of them watching as Erik's ship lifted off, soon disappearing from sight. "Least that problem's taken care of though."

::Sal-::

Thalia's voice was cut off by a high pitched squeal in Kadira's comm, earning a curse as Kadira doubled over, hand to her ear as she struggled to shut off the hidden comm. Black was stumbling away, his hand to the side of his helmet, informing Kadira that the sound wasn't just a comm malfunction on her end. Kadira finally managed to find the switch she was looking for, instantly muting the noise. Black seemed to recover at the same time.

"What the-" Kadira froze mid-sentence as she felt the muzzle of a pistol pressed into her unarmored back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Black in the same situation – the pistol pressed into the unarmored portion of his neck. "Osik," she muttered as a scaley claw gripped her arm, forcing it up high behind her back.

"We have a proposition for you," the unmistakable hiss in her ear caused Kadira to scowl, tilting her head forward and away from the trandoshan's snout. The alien jerked her arm in response and Kadira hissed in pain.

She shook her head sharply at Black as he glanced to her for instruction, tensing as he prepared to take on his own attacker.

Wait, Kadira mouthed. They couldn't afford to blow the mission now.

"What kind of proposition?" Kadira asked through gritted teeth, turning her attention back to their captor.

"The boss has a job for a smuggler," the trandoshan spat. Kadira jerked violently as a black cloth was pulled over her eyes, cutting off her sight without warning. She had no more time to process the situation or second-guess her choice as she was spun around and hurried in a direction she could only guess at.


Kadira glanced around the shining walls of the building she and Black had been presented with as soon as their blindfolds were removed. Kadira had managed to switch her comm back on, grateful the giant lizards in the room had only thought to check Black for a comm, not her. Not a wise move, but a slip Kadira was certainly grateful for. Still, Kadira was kicking herself for the earlier cover story she'd had the team perpetuate. She had no doubt that word of a smuggler on planet had made its way back here, landing her and Black in a rather precarious situation.

Kadira scowled at the trandoshan boss in front of her as he waited for her response to his offer.

"Please. A deal like that and I'd be losing credits, not gaining them. I'm not taking the risk of smuggling spice and paying you to do it to boot."

The Trandoshan mercenary's lip twisted in a snarl as he reached for the vibroblade strapped to his waist and Kadira saw Black start forward, one hand wandering towards his own weapon. Kadira clenched her hand into a fist and held it behind her, within his view but not the trandoshan's. Wait.

Black backed down immediately, though not entirely willingly. This confrontation had made them both jumpy and eager for a fight. But a battle here and they'd never get their comrades out alive. Not with six trandoshans armed to the teeth standing between them and the door. And that wasn't counting however many were gathered outside. Given Kadira's lack of armor and Black's limited arsenal, they'd have to handle things diplomatically or risk the lives of their companions still in the prisons.

"Twice as much, but you deliver in half the time," the trandoshan countered when he realized his unspoken threat had no effect on Kadira's answer.

"I can't make the run in that amount of time, no one can," Kadira replied indignantly. "And when I fail like I have to, you'll claim the cargo and keep my fee. Not an option."

"I could turn you in now," the mercenary threated, and Kadira offered a cold smile, holding up a small recording device the guards had also failed to confiscate.

"And I'd just have to report you for wanting to smuggle spice out of the Kessel systems," Kadira offered her sweetest smile, knowing it would only set the trandoshan on edge all the more.

The creature's reptilian eyes narrowed as he considered, no doubt trying to remember everything that had been said. Finally his lips twisted in a sneer.

"The Kessell Run can be made in twelve parsecs. Less. A ship's done it," he replied, clearly running out of options. Kadira had no doubt he usually worked with much lower level mercenaries, those who would jump at any job. On a system like this, it didn't surprise Kadira in the slightest.

Kadira snorted. "You've been listening to too many bar tails. No ship can make it that fast. And even if mine could, I'd be way out of your price range to smuggle spice that fast. Try again."

"I could kill you and your thug here and find another smuggler."

Kadira had been wondering how long it would take for that option to occur to him. It had been longer than she'd expected, really. Apparently he was a bit dimmer than most.

"Then you're left trying to dispose of two bodies on a world where the Imps are now swarming, just waiting for someone to misstep," she countered.

The trandoshan glowered, glancing sideways nervously. "I'll walk," he threatened.

"You're the only one with something to lose," Kadira countered, leaning forward and splaying her hands on the table. The trandoshan shifted backwards, clearly uncomfortable with the unexpected invasion of his space. "You've got nothing, not really."

"Then why so desperate to keep the Imps out of it? You seem awfully eager to avoid questions."

Kadira allowed a disparaging laugh to escape her lips. "I'm a smuggler, idiot," she replied, careful to avoid any use of Mando'a. He didn't need to know her ties. It might raise a red flag, and that was the last thing she needed now. He might still assume Black was just Kadira's hired thug. She'd rather not raise any suspicions to the contrary. "Questions are bad for business."

"Fine. I'll pay you double, but you have to make an extra stop along the way," the creature bartered. "There's a shipment of wookiee slaves needing transport. You'll get a nice bonus along the way. They're too much trouble for my own soldiers. You won't find any Imperial checkpoints, not since the business is mostly legal."

Kadira ground her teeth, struggling to keep her temper. She knew smugglers who took on sentient cargo, and it had always left a foul taste in her mouth. People, no matter if they were human or alien, weren't cargo. The Empire's legalization of slavery had made the business boom, but smugglers were still often preferred as transporters. They knew how to avoid trouble, and many legitimate shipping companies till balked at the idea of slavery. A scruple Kadira shared. It was all she could do not to use the blade hidden in her sleeve, outnumbered or not. It would be worth it to rid the galaxy of one more slaver.

"Kad…" Black's warning was sharp and probably the only thing that kept Kadira from blowing everything. She slowly unclenched her fists, grateful the trandoshan couldn't see them from his vantage point, else she might have compromised the whole mission.

"Deal," Kadira managed to grate out, offering a sharp nod.

"I'll send the information to you. I expect a solid deal, smuggler, or I'll send every contact I have after you. You'll be on the run no matter where you go. Are we clear?"

Kadira offered a sharp smile in reply. "Oh, we're clear."

The slaver nodded and turned on his heel, striding out of the room with a swagger that made Kadira want nothing more than to pull out her pistol and drop him on the spot. It'd be a favor to the galaxy, she had no doubt of that.

"How in haran are you going to handle that business deal?" Black asked quietly.

Kadira was silent a moment before a slow smile spread over her face. "I have a contact," she said finally. "I'm sure she'd be more than happy to bust a smuggling ring for spice and slaves."

"He thinks he can bring you down if you double cross him," Black pointed out. "And techinically the Imps won't take him in for slavery. Not with wookiees. He seems to think he's untouchable."

Kadira snorted in response. "That's because he's an arrogant chakaar. I'll bring down his business before he even sees what hit him," she looked over her shoulder at him, offering a near-feral grin. "This is my specialty, remember? You bring down the badguys with bounties, I do it by giving them just enough rope to hang themselves with. All I have to do is help tie the noose."

::Remind me to never cross you, Kadira,:: Thalia's voice came over the comm, earning a soft laugh from the smuggler.


Jett was careful to stay still as footsteps echoed in the hall outside his makeshift cell. The patrols were getting more and more frequent, alerting him to the fact they expected another rescue attempt. As it was, they were on high alert. Jett had already missed two conversations by shifting, straining to hear better. The troopers had noticed immediately and fallen silent, leaving Jett cursing his bad luck. If only he had time to play the part and tone down their fears so they ignored him, viewed him as anything but a threat. Jett frowned at the thought. The way Kadira had done to him, now that he thought about it… He shook his head, dismissing the thought for now. Breaking into a secure prison with a team of four and extracting an important prisoner was hardly being viewed as non-threatening. As a result the troopers were keeping a close eye on him, no doubt fueled by the fact they viewed him as a personal traitor, rather than just another prisoner. He couldn't so much as shift his weight without a guard immediately eyeing him, suspicious. So this time he was sure to hold completely still, lest he lose another chance to gain what intel he could.

"…have a break for once, that's all."

"Not our call. The boss's prisoner is calling the shots on this one. He's done a sight good job of predicting so far. Our orders are to follow his orders," the trooper's voice was low and quiet, but Jett was straining to pick up any sound and so caught the patrol's words.

"You really think the rescue group will come back? They had a hard enough time with the numbers they had. Now they're down by at least two, since we grabbed one and the other one got shot. No way he's back in the game, if he even made it out of here alive."

"According to the contact, they're not leaving their own behind. Even if it kills them. We're supposed to be on high watch, so we'd better be."

"Fierfek, what are these Mandos made of? You'd think they'd give up at some point…"

"They're Mandos. They're too stupid and too stubborn for that. Haven't you heard any of the stories? They stood up to Jedi in the old days and they're still around…"

The conversation trailed off into the distance and Jett let out a slow breath, opening his eyes and staring at the smooth walls of his cell. Kadira and the remainder of the crew weren't going to have an easy time if they decided to come back. He'd been hoping against all odds that the patrols would slacken, thinking they were safe. If anything, the opposite seemed to be true. The patrols increased each time he counted, to the point he was uncertain just how many troopers were patrolling this hall, let alone the rest of the building. It was exactly what he would have done, and that worried him.

Jett settled back against the wall, noticing the way the two guards outside his cell shifted their own weight in response, realizing he was awake. Jett suppressed a smile. Outsider or no, it did still feel good to know they were uncomfortable with him. It did nothing to relieve his doubts about leaving the Empire behind, but it did make him understand why Kadira and Laniff were always comparing who had the higher bounty on their heads. If you couldn't be a hero inside the current system, you might as well become infamous outside of it.

Jett felt the smile spread over his face at the thought. If Kadira had a motto, he was sure it would be something along those lines. He just hoped she lived through the rescue she was no doubt planning. Whatever it was, Jett had the sneaking suspicion that it would bring her bounty price up much higher than Laniff's.


"Duck!"

Kadira muttered a curse as she scrambled back and twisted sharply, though not fast enough to avoid Black's punch entirely. She felt the blow graze her ribs and stumbled, thrown off balance. She pivoted slightly, fighting to keep her footing and keep Black in sight at the same time. The man was extremely good at hand-to-hand combat, a stark contrast with Kadira's clear lack of skill. Her own specialty had more to do with disarming an opponent and turning their weapon against them, something that was nearly impossible in hand-to-hand. Black was attempting to teach her to use her opponent's strength and speed against them, but she was choosing to be a much slower study than she would have preferred. Kadira was simply grateful that they trained in full armor, else she was certain she'd be sporting quite a few more bruises.

The team had spent the past two hours sparring, trying to stay out of Thalia's way as much as humanly possible. The woman was brilliant at scrubbing through HUD data, and had kicked Kadira out of the makeshift squad bay after a few hours. Vhetin had gone back to checking in on the deaf woman after a sparring match with Kadira using his lightsaber pike and her beskad. It had started out as a fairly even fight, but Kadira had lost ground steadily after the first few minutes, finally backing herself into a corner and having to admit defeat. Still, it was keeping her humble if nothing else.

"You need to pay more attention, vod," Black berated, though not unkindly. "You need to be focused here."

Kadira offered a sharp nod in response, breathing harder than she normally would have been. Her body was still not fully recovered from her injuries back on Coruscant, and the lack of sleep was only intensifying the reaction. Black seemed to be taking both that and her lower skill level into account, pushing her without forcing her to come up against his own skill level. She knew the fight would have been over in a few seconds otherwise. Still, hand-to-hand was something Kadira had been promising her buir she'd spend time improving. She wasn't about to pass up a training session with a Cuy'val Dar, soreness or no.

Kadira shook her head quickly, rocking back on her heels and nodding to Black. "Go again."

Black stepped forward and swung a punch, which Kadira nimbly dodged, flinching at the sharp spasm of pain in her back that her twist caused. Black noticed the reaction and frowned, pulling back his follow-up blow in order to give her time to recover. Kadira took advantage of the distraction to land two quick blows, lighter than Corey's own but faster. She sacrificed strength for speed, which she knew was her only advantage against the veteran. Besides, she was going to have to fight through the discomfort of her back if the medics were right and she was stuck with the injury.

Black absorbed the blows with a step back and offered a nod of approval.

"Black, Thalia is asking for some clarification on HUD data," Vhetin's calm voice came from behind and Black immediately dropped out of a fighting stance. He offered Kadira a nod, exiting the room without a word.

Kadira removed her helmet and took down her hair with a sigh, running her hand through it before returning it to an impatient braid. Her body was sore from the matches, but it made her feel as if she was accomplishing something rather than just standing around.

"Anything?" she asked Vhetin, not bothering to replace her helmet. She needed the fresh air now, not the confines of her HUD and all the data it offered.

"Thalia has an idea, but nothing solid. She won't confirm yet, but she's working on something," Vhetin said with a shrug. "Just wish we could be more useful."

Kadira heard the frustration in his tone, sharp and tight and she sighed, leaning against the wall and rolling her neck to relieve some of the tension that had been building up.

"You and me both, vod," she murmured in response to Vhetin's statement.

"You took a big risk with the trandoshan back there," Vhetin observed, earning a halfhearted shrug from Kadira in response.

"It's not the first time I've run into a group like that," Kadira admitted.

"So you knew your strategy would work."

Kadira grinned in reply, shaking her head. "Last time it nearly got me shot," she explained impishly. "I just figured that odds are it would have to work eventually. So I took the chance."

Vhetin shook his head, earning another shrug from Kadira.

"What can I say, recklessness is practically my signature."

Vhetin settled against the doorframe, propping one shoulder on the solid wood and studying her.

"This is affecting you too."

It wasn't a question, so Kadira didn't bother answering it like it was.

"It's a shabla good thing we have Black here," she said instead. "Without him, we'd all have an emotional investment in this. He's our anchor point, and the only one who's going to keep us from doing something incredibly stupid."

"Such as a solo run."

Kadira offered a tired smile, tinged with an edge of wry humor. "You thought of it too, huh?"

"First plan that came to mind," Vhetin confirmed. "The fact you did too makes me wonder what made you stop hunting, Sal," Vhetin observed, tilting his helmeted head to the side. "You've got a beroya's mind. And stubbornness. And from the rumors, plenty of recklessness to boot."

Kadira let out a sharp laugh. "I got sick of getting shot at for a few credits. It made me mad more than anything."

"You do realize you're still getting shot at. For money," Vhetin pointed out.

Kadira grinned in response, bending down to pick up her discarded sword as she answered.

"Not so. I'm doing this one for free, remember? Besides, someone needs to pull you beroya out of the fire every once in a while when you get in too deep. I'm better at fast, precise strikes than I am at wearing down an opponent. If I can use surprise and stealth, I will. I'll leave the head-on assaults to you lot."

"Something tells me there's more to it than that," Vhetin pressed.

Kadira slipped the blade's sheathe over her back, falling silent as the smile she had been wearing dropped from her face.

"You have your past, Cin," she said finally. "You'll have to allow me mine."


Jayce planted his feet and pulled hard, ignoring the way his muscles protested the motion. Laniff's still body slid across the slick pavement, probably the only positive thing about the soft rain that had begun to fall only hours before. It made dragging the Mandalorian slightly easier, though it did nothing to help Jayce's exhaustion from carrying the armored man's weight. More often than not Jayce had to fight to keep his balance. He simply wasn't built to drag a fully grown, fully armored man around the streets. As it was, he'd discarded most of the detachable pieces of armor the man wore. He'd only held onto the bloody helmet, as morbid as the sight was. Still, something told Jayce it was more valuable than any other piece of armor. And there might be a way that Jayce could use it to help the fire-armored man. How, he didn't know, but Jayce was willing to hold out any amount of hope, no matter how small.

Jayce adjusted his grip on the larger man, feeling the remaining red and gold armor dig mercilessly into his own bony shoulders. The man got heavier with every step, and Jayce's own strength was starting to wane. How he'd even made it this far he didn't know. Pure stubbornness, probably.

Jayce shivered as a gust of cold wind whipped through the streets, winding through the passages and hissing as if berating Jayce for his unintentional betrayal of the man he was now struggling to drag through the back alleys. He stumbled slightly, feeling Laniff's weight shift as he struggled to regain his balance. He'd already dropped the flame-armored man twice, and he wasn't looking forward to the reckoning he was sure he deserved from the man. No need to add to it by dropping him again.

"C'mon, mister Laniff," Jayce murmured, adding the title in some vain hope that the man would hear and realize Jayce's betrayal had never been planned. "Just a little bit further."

Jayce stumbled over to a nearby wall, using it to prop Laniff up as Jayce struggling to shift the man's weight in order to make it easier to drag the man through the streets. Not for the first time in his life, Jayce was regretting his smaller build. Some of the other street boys would have had little trouble dragging Laniff to safety. Those Jayce had seen had scrambled away, disappearing into the rain despite Jayce's cries for help. Friends, gang members, and strangers alike all ignored him, word no doubt having already gone around that Laniff was a target of Death Watch. No one was stupid enough to help Jayce, no matter how desperate he was.

Jayce took a breath and took a shuffling step away from the wall, wincing as Laniff's chestplate scraped along his shoulders before Laniff's weight slipped back into place, putting pressure on Jayce's already aching arms but at least taking away the sharp pain from the plates digging into his skin. Jayce let out a strained huff of air but continued slogging forward, dragging the armored man with him.

When the doors of the building Laniff had been hiding in finally came into view, Jayce felt as if he could sob from relief. He picked up his pace, exhaustion placed to the back of his mind as he pictured the dry, warm room Laniff had made into his base. It might be lacking in luxury, but it was certainly better than anywhere Jayce could have found, especially since his gang had abandoned him to whatever fate might befall him now.

Jayce managed to get Laniff through the front door of the building with no trouble, grateful once again for the rain. Everyone was hiding from the weather in the apartments, meaning no one tried to hassle Jayce as he dragged Laniff down the hall. The last thing he needed were questions, or a thief who thought an injured Mandalorian would make a perfect target. Jayce had neither the strength nor the ability to fight off an opponent, and so was grateful to see the empty halls.

The boy's legs were shaking violently from Laniff's weight by the time he reached the door to Laniff's hdeout. He punched in the code he'd observed Laniff type in multiple times, yet another indication that Laniff hadn't been at the top of his game. Letting a street kid see the entry code to his hideout was probably not the brightest moment in the armored man's life. Or, at least, Jayce hoped it wasn't.

Jayce flinched as he misjudged the doorway, smacking Laniff's head against the doorframe and leaving a streak of red blood behind.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jayce scrambled to apologize to the unconscious man, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. He continued to drag Laniff through the doorway, straining against the man's weight as he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision enough to see where he could set the man. Laniff's foot caught on the door, but Jayce noticed before it caused any real issue and he managed to maneuver so as to avoid further injury to the unconscious man.

Jayce managed to make out the duracrete slab that served as a bed and struggled to drag Laniff over to the overhang. It took all of Jayce's remaining strength to get the man up onto the slab, and once he had, Jayce collapsed to the ground. The door slid shut automatically, sealing Jayce in with the unconscious Mandalorian.

The boy looked around the room, feeling suddenly lost. He had gotten the fire armored man back here, but now what? Jayce knew nothing about medicine, there was nothing he could do to help the blonde man except to stop the bleeding as much as possible. Otherwise, Jayce was at a loss, and he knew that Laniff's outer injuries were the least of his concerns.

Jayce buried his face in his knees as he began to shake. Laniff was going to die, and it would be his fault. His fault for leading him into an ambush, and his fault for not knowing how to help him. Jayce squeezed his eyes shut and bit down hard on his lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall once more. They would do nothing for him except to make him even more miserable than before.

It took all the will and might he had, but Jayce finally managed to take a slow, clear breath. Jayce lifted his head and looked around the dark room, hoping to find something – anything – to aid the armored man.

Just stop the bleeding, he told himself, scrambling to his feet. Then you can figure out the rest.

With that thought in mind, Jayce began to search the room, grateful for a purpose, no matter how insignificant the action might be in the long run. At least he wouldn't have to sit idly by and watch Laniff die.


Kadira's arms were crossed over her chest so tightly she thought she might leave bruises. Every word that came out of Thalia's mouth caused her to tense even further as the woman laid out the plan she'd pieced together from the HUD data the team had passed it. Kadira took a slow, shaking breath, grateful that the rest of the team was too focused on Thalia's brief to notice Kadira's tension.

Shab. Shab, shab, shab, the word repeated itself over and over in her mind as Thalia continued, pointing out the small underground shaft that would lead to their entry point.

"Once there, we can enter through this point here," Thalia continued explaining, bringing the three-dimensional image up and gesturing to the wall she was discussing, "it's a locked entrance, but we can punch through it. It will lead us right into the main mess hall, and we can work our way out from there. It will be loud though, so no stealth advantages."

Kadira forced herself to nod sharply, keeping her arms crossed to hide the way her hands were shaking. Thank the stars that it was Thalia giving the brief and not her. Kadira had no doubt she would have frozen up even presenting this plan. She had no idea how she was going to be able to execute it.

"We don't need quiet, not this time," Kadira agreed," It won't get us anywhere… Fast and loud is our best plan. Is this the only way in, or do we have another option?" she asked, barely keeping the edge of desperation out of her voice. Still, she saw Vhetin's head turn in her direction ever so slightly, and she had no doubt the gray armored Mandalorian was studying her closely. So much for keeping her dread under wraps.

"None," Thalia said, shaking her helmeted head sharply. "Every other way in takes too much time or manpower. But this one is workable, and it shouldn't be heavily guarded. They'll be looking for an assault similar to the one your team pulled off earlier, so this way gives us at least a little bit of surprise."

Kadira nodded again, swallowing hard and forcing a deep breath before she spoke. Her hands still shook, but her ruined voice was surprisingly calm when she did.

"Alright. Everyone, get your gear and catch some rest if you can. We'll hit tonight, right at the shift change. Just hope they haven't messed with the schedule too much."

"They should leave rotations the same, just with more men," Black confirmed. "They'll want to avoid as much confusion as possible."

"Good. Get your prep done, vode, and then get some sleep," Kadira didn't wait for a response, not sure how much longer she could hold it together. She exited the room quickly, uncrossing her arms and looking down at her hands, which were shaking violently. When she had made it far enough out of sight, ending up in the room they had allotted for sparring, Kadira removed her helmet and tossed it aside, the metal clanging against the duracrete floor and causing her to start. Kadira forced herself to take a deep breath, but got only as far as a small, desperate gasp for air.

She was going to be sick. Or pass out, she amended, struggling to take in a full breath. Possibly even both. Kadira pressed her shaking hands to her face before running them through her loosely braided hair, which came out effortlessly as she did so. Her hands were icy cold, so she pressed them back against her face in an effort to calm herself down.

"You okay, vod?"

Kadira started violently and whirled around, hand automatically reaching for a weapon even as she cursed fluently in Mando'a, recognizing Vhetin's voice.

"How in haran do you move so blasted quietly?!" she snapped, running her hands roughly over her face and trying to force herself to stop shaking. She knew the anger wasn't fair, but her nerves felt like they were stretched razor thin, and being startled by Vhetin certainly hadn't helped.

"Practice," was Vhetin's calm response, seeming to take no offense at her outburst. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Kadira replied, her tone more defensive than she intended it to be. She tried to take in another deep breath and failed, turning on her heel instead so she was facing away from the armored man. Her composure was in shreds, but she wanted him to witness as little as possible. She needed to hold it together for the team, and she was failing miserably at it.

"You're claustrophobic." It wasn't a question, and Kadira scowled, turning back to face him so the expression wasn't lost on him.

"How do you know?"

"I recognize the signs," Vhetin answered simply, crossing his arms over his armored chest. "How bad?"

"I can't even handle a shabla bacta tank, vod," Kadira said with a bitter laugh, running a hand through her hair. "How in haran am I going to make it through a two hundred foot crawlspace that's about half the height of a bacta tank?"

Vhetin was silent for a moment before he nodded, apparently deciding something. "Because your partner is in that place and needs your help. That's how. And your vode are here to help you get through it, and drag you there if we have to."

Kadira shivered, picturing the thought of them having to shove her through the crawlspace if she froze. "I might panic."

"You won't," Vhetin said simply. "And again, if you do we're here to help you. You're not going this alone."

Kadira took a slow, even breath, struggling to regain control. Vhetin waited quietly, allowing her to collect herself without any input on his part.

"You're right," she said finally. "Osik, you're right. But somebody had better tell Jett that if he gets captured again, it had better be in a place with no tight spaces or I'm leaving him there."

She heard Vhetin chuckle and the man offered a nod. "I'll make sure to tell him."

Kadira gave a shaky smile in return, retrieving her helmet. She stared at it a moment before taking a shaking breath and settling it back over her scarred features.

"Vore, vod," she said, gratitude in her tone as she reached out one hand to him. She was proud to see that it barely shook.

"Oya," Vhetin confirmed, clasping her hand in the traditional Mandalorian hand-to-elbow grip.


A/N: Again, I apologize for both the delay and the lack of polish here. My life has spiraled entirely out of control, so I'm trying to tie up this story as best and smoothly as I can in the time I have.

As always, I love feedback/reviews, etc. Thanks for being patient with me.