Hey y'all! So glad to see you enjoying this story. Just a few general warnings for an extended bloody fight sequence for this chapter. Other than, have at it!

Vornskr

"Tell me again why we're stopping in this hellhole?" Zethu asked as she stepped off the ramp to her Lancer.

Din leaned against the Razor Crest's own landing ramp waiting for her. There was a viciousness in her mannerism that seemed heightened now. When they had last been partners of convenience she had carried herself with an almost arrogant, casual confidence—cracking jokes, teasing their inevitable fight.

"I have a contact who's ex-Rebel. I don't care what intel that Crimson Dawn boss gave us, I'm not flying Corewards until I know more. Besides, " he gestured down to where the kid was hiding behind his legs. "Can't exactly take this one into a firefight."

"Guess not," Zethu agreed, staring harshly down at the child. It made a gentle gurgle of recognition at Zethu, but her expression never shifted. "Fine. Let's get this done," she ran a check of her weapons on her belt, sheathing a few extra vibroblades into hidden pockets on both her boots.

Nevarro's outpost was not exactly large or exciting, but Din guessed even an outlier merc like Zethu would have made a few stops here in her time. Judging from how she never glanced around at the buildings or its denizens, he supposed he was right. It might be a mistake to bring her here, but he didn't have much choice. Crimson Dawn's power may be fading in terms of the larger underworld clans in the galaxy, but their reputation was well earned. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that if they didn't go through with this mission the fallout would be swift and bloody. He already had to contend with the imps, and if this hunt meant the worst of his pursuers would be within eyesight for a few solid weeks, well...at least he could check one less worry of his list.

Those concerns were temporarily shunted to the side as Din caught sight of Cara Dune exiting the tavern. He grinned under the helmet at the scowl she wore on her face as she stomped over to him. His hand was out to clasp hers when she sucker punched him on the shoulder. "What the hell?" she said. "Crimson Dawn now? You've got the imps out for your blood and you go and get yourself involved with Crimson freakin' Dawn?"

Zethu's frame shook with low, growling laughter. "Nice aim," Din rubbed at his aching arm. "And it wasn't planned."

"You must be the contact Mando spoke of," Zethu said, head cocked to one side appraisingly.

The teasing brawling attitude melted off of Cara as she looked over at Zethu. "Is this the merc that says she's gonna kill you?" she asked quietly.

"Yup."

"Any reason why we shouldn't kill her first?" Cara's hand went to the blaster at her hip.

"I wouldn't." Zethu's voice was matter-of-fact, but the threat was there. She never reached for her own weapon.

"That's funny, cause I don't see a reason to let you fly out of here alive. We," Cara gestured to herself and Din, "could just as easily handle the mess you made."

There was a tense silence for a moment before Zethu slowly smiled, revealing the sharpened points of her teeth. "I think I'm going to like you."

Din only shrugged in response to Cara's nonplussed reaction and waved Zethu on ahead to the tavern. Zethu stuck her hands into her jacket pockets and walked on in—backwards, of course. The smile still partially hovered on the corner of her white-gray lips, but it never quite reached her eyes.

"Ok, what's the plan here," Cara asked as soon as Zethu was out of earshot.

"Complete the job. Get Crimson Dawn off my back. Get some credits out of the arrangement?"

"No, you stupid spacejocky, about the merc!" Cara shoved him. "It'd be easy for us to take her down here. She's on our turf. Karga could even arrange something."

"She's smart, Cara, I think she's known we could try something like that since she landed with me. Besides, I promised a fair fight. Let's just get that intel. One step and a time." Din made his way forward to the tavern.

Zethu had already gotten a booth and a drink. She was surveying, he knew the look. By now she'd have picked out the best exit, the best cover if things turned into a fight, and the best diversion if she needed to make a sudden escape. It's what he would have done. She could have refused coming with him to Nevarro. That one sole thought kept him from blasting her where she sat. She could have rendezvoused with him later, but she came anyway knowing she could be walking into a trap.

He and Cara sat opposite Zethu and Cara pulled out an old datapad. "Gedos Sal," Cara said. "Now I don't know the guy that well, but he ran some codes for the rebellion. Shut down a lot of TIE-fighter factories and could get intel no one else could. Always knew he had a bit of shady history but who doesn't? If he's run to Coruscant its as decent a place to hide in plain sight."

Din picked up on the uncomfortable shift in Zethu's posture. He looked down at the grainy image of Gedos on the datapad. Sometimes it could be hard to deal with near-human species on pictures alone, but it struck him on closer inspection that the white of the background screen almost bled into the skin, and the eyes while he had thought discolored and clouded on his own holoprojector on the Razor Crest, were actually of the same quality of Zethu's.

"He's an Offshoot."

Again, that shift of discomfort. "Yeah," her voice was flat.

"You knew him?"

"Long time ago."

"Least that explains the Dawn boss' snap decision to send you. She just watched you gun down three of your kin, probably figured you'd be good to go for more." It was a cruel thing to say, but even so Din was surprised that he managed to strike a clear nerve. Zethu's eyes bored into him. She stood up from the booth suddenly, knocking back the rest of the drink in one go.

"So that's it? We good?" She barked.

"If you want my opinion," Cara continued, ignoring the outburst. "He'll most likely being near the tech centers. No idea what he did after the war, but he's got no reason to run from the Republic. My best guess is he's still working for them doing much the same he always did. Running codes, and intel on any remnants of the Empire in the Coreworlds. He probably knows you're coming. If a hit was put out, stuff like that has a way of making its way down the line."

"Thanks," Din said, sliding out of the booth. "Oh and one last thing. Could you watch after the kid?"

"You know I'm no good with that kid stuff," Cara shook her head.

"C'mon. It would only be temporary. Besides it likes you."

She gave a grunt that Din took for a reluctant yes. Zethu was quiet as they left the tavern, as if she was still waiting for the ambush. "You don't have to do this," Din didn't know why he said that, maybe her discomfort was annoying him.

She looked at him as if he was crazy. "I don't much care one way or the other. It'll give me some extra credits."

"You care that little for your own people?"

"They care little enough for me," she tossed her hair out of her eyes as a hot wind from the lava fields blew through the outpost. "Why? You stupid loyal to every Mandalorian you run into? Not that there are many these days."

Din put out a steadying hand on Cara's shoulder even as the urge to punch the merc rose in his blood. Zethu looked completely unphased. "I look out for myself. I don't mind being judged for it, because it's the truth and am still alive because of it." She stuffed her hands back into her pockets and turned her back on the both of them, heading for her ship and called out over her shoulder. "Maybe I could have banded together with the rest of my kind, done some kind of grand stand against our Arkaninan overlords. That would have really shown 'em, huh? Then I could be dead like the rest of your Mandalorians."

"Better dying like a warrior than living like a coward."

That stopped her cold. Din vaguely became aware that Cara was frantically asking what he was doing, but the blood was pounding in his ears. Zethu craned her head around, one colorless eye glaring at him through the shifting silver of her hair. "I'm not a coward."

Din wanted to laugh at that. Any honorless, kin-slaying, petty murderer like her was a coward. She gave him no time for any retorts. That vornskr snarl was back on her face as she drew both her vibroblades and launched herself at him. Din easily dodged out of the way seeing Cara draw her blaster. "No!" he managed to shout. "She's mine."

He'd had enough. No more truces, no more assignments, more looking over his shoulder for a cowardly merc who always managed to turn tail when they could face off in a fight. He'd kill her now. She wore no armor but her crimson leather jacket and pilot's gear. She had a blaster on her hip but favored her blades. Smart. The beskar would catch most of her shots anyway. All he had to do was outlast her onslaught.

And, stars, she was fast! She charged him without a thought, feigning to the left before rising like a lightning strike, her blade clanged against his pauldron. "I've killed a lot of people before," she hissed as she passed him, "but never a Mandalorian."

A blow to her stomach sent her skidding across the dust. A crowd was forming and Cara stood, grim-faced on the sidelines. The punch didn't keep the merc down for long. Din somersaulted under her blade swing and cracked another punch to her jaw. She fell backwards, but too late, it was a controlled move. She pulled into a cartwheel, and Din actually felt a red line of pain where her blade nicked between his pauldron and vambrace.

They stood sizing one another up, walking circles around the other. A thin trickle of blood trailed down Zethu's lips and she looked in satisfaction and the red dripping onto his beskar. He was going to wipe that look off her spacescum face. But, Din had to admit as she readied herself for another strike, perhaps this wasn't going to be as easy as he first thought.

Breathe.

Din swung a punch and sent Zethu to her knees.

Just keep breathing.

Exhaustion had burrowed down deep into every bone in his body. Blood dripped from numerous gashes where Zethu's blade had found gaps in his amor. The merc stood ragged before him, circling, blood falling into the dust, lurid purple bruises splashed across her albino skin. She ran at him. Din gritted his teeth as her blade tore another opening in his skin, but she was losing ground. He grabbed her, glove wrapped around her face and head and slammed her into the dirt, bringing his vambrace into her chest. Air wheezed from Zethu's lungs and Din was certain he felt a rib give against his armor. He followed it up with a downward strike of his own vibroblade, but he struck only hard ground as she rolled to the side.

When they had started this brawl the sun had been high in the sky. Now darkness was closing in on the outpost. Why didn't she stay down? Zethu vaulted back onto her feet, one hand lightly pressed against her injured rib cage. Determination show through her eyes and Din found himself regarding her as a wild animal. Survival was the only thing that mattered. And bringing down her prey. He remember her in the caves on Akiva after the earthquake. Bloodied, broken, and still ready to face him in a fight at the end of the tunnel.

She tried another run at him, but Din lay cover with a blast of fire from his flamethrower causing Zethu to stagger back away from the heat. That was probably the last of the fuel. He stared across the fighting pit they had created to see where his blaster lay after Zethu and scrambled like a mad creature to disarm him.

As if sensing his next move Zeth charged him before he could roll to grab his blaster. With a surge of unexpected strength she practically leapt on him, gripping him on either side of his neck before smashing her own head into his helmet. Din heard the sickening crunch as Zethu's nose broke. Blood consumed his vision, and with a weak laugh Zethu swiped one hand across the blood, marring his visor entirely.

Din stumbled backward, blinded. Was she crazy? Using her own blood to gain the advantage? If he wasn't the direct target of Zethu's wrath he might have even found the move admirable. His world had gone entirely red. He could see the silhouette of his enemy standing in front of him even if he could not make out much more than her legs. He tried to frantically wipe the blood clear of his vision but his efforts didn't help much. "Gotcha, Mando," Zethu gurgled as he was grabbed roughly by the throat and slammed up against a wall.

Just because he was blind didn't mean he was helpless. Din backhanded wildly and was rewarded with a solid impact and a thin cry. He hoped he had hit her broken nose. Relying on touch instead of sight, he reached out and grabbed Zethu by the collar of her jacket before she could fall away from him. He let the momentum carry him down onto the ground, pinning her underneath him.

For a heartbeat there was just the sound both their ragged breathing. Din could not see her fully, the parts that he could bathed her in a bloody red light. "You're dead, Offshoot," he panted, pressing his blade to her throat.

"So are you."

That was when he felt the sharp tip of a vibroblade nudge just under his breastplate. He wouldn't have time to pull back, even if he cut her cleanly across the throat she'd still have half a second reaction to stab him through the gut. Din's eyes went wide. He heard something echo with a crack and he half expected to feel pain blossom through him. But it never came. The thin pinprick of the vibroblade left him as Zethu's arm went limp and flopped into the dust.

Din looked up, startled to see Cara Dun standing over them both, her rifle parallel with Zethu's head as the merc lay unconscious. "I had just about enough of that," she said.

He pulled himself off of Zethu, sitting backwards on the ground, breathless. He tried to summon up the words to...what? Thank his friend? Taunt her for interrupting his fight? His vision swam and not from the blood obscuring his visor. Every gash and cut from Zethu's knife throbbed with sudden agony as the adrenaline left him. He collapsed backwards and let darkness overtake him.

She was swimming through a thick, black, inky ocean. Somewhere far above Zethu felt the idea of pain in all of her limbs. Her face felt like it was on fire, but down here in the depths it was muted. She took a deep breath through heavy lungs, knives stabbed into her as her chest rose and fell.

That was when she felt it.

She wasn't certain what it was, just that she was not alone here in the dark. It was far off, distant, but she felt it like a thrumming in her bones, like a ringing in her ears. And whatever it was, it had noticed her.

And it was coming.

Zethu awoke with a jolt and immediately wished she hadn't moved. Pain crashed over her in sudden waves. She blinked open eyes in a room that was entirely too bright for its own good even with the one window. She tried to sit up and regretted it. Her ribs screamed in pain even with the bacta patch draped across them. Her face too, she pinched the patch across the bridge. Someone at least had set the break.

Memories of the fight came flooding back. If she was alive then that would mean—! She tried to roll over off the cot, but was stopped by a familiar figure sitting up in a chair by the door.

"Hey there."

The Mandalorian's voice was a mockery of her own first greeting towards him and Zethu flopped back onto the cot with a disappointed sigh. "You're still alive?"

"Just lucky that way."

She could see bandages poking out from under the beskar. There was no way he was in better shape than she was. Zethu groaned again as she made herself sit up to spite him. "So now what?" just that amount of energy left her drained. "You here to finish the job?"

He regarded in silence and Zethu did not like his scrutiny. She couldn't see his damn face, but she didn't need to. What the hell was up with this man? Most marks wouldn't hesitate to get the drop on their hunters like this. She was without weapons, without strength, and totally helpless. All he had to do was pull the trigger on one of his blaster, strangle her with one hand, stab her in the heart, and it would be over.

"Why didn't you use your blaster?" he asked, breaking the tense silence.

"What?" If this was his way of mocking her, she didn't care—she'd make herself be ready for round two if she had to.

"In the fight. You had your blaster. All you needed to do was use it once you closed the gap between us in the fight. Why didn't you?"

Zethu raised an eyebrow. "Any fool can shoot a blaster. You called me a coward. When I kill you, Mando, I'll do it with my bare hands."

He rose from his chair and Zethu's breathing picked up. There was no escape. She didn't have enough energy to get to her feet no matter how much she willed her legs to work. She didn't want to die like this. She didn't want to die at all. The Mandalorian stalked over to her bedside and she closed her eyes with a hiss. If this was going to happen she hoped it was quick.

A weight fell upon her injured chest and Zethu blinked open her eyes to see that the Mandalorian had placed her two vibroblades atop her. Bewildered she looked up into that masked face. "Why?"

"You're not a coward, Zethu Desh. Rest. We're leaving for Coruscant tomorrow at first light," he paused as he made his way to the doorway, turning back to face her. "Don't die before I get a chance to kill you again."

Then he just...left her. Unharmed. Zethu's breathing steadied as she collected the blades. She couldn't, for the life of her, understand this particular mark. He was...honorable, she grudgingly admitted to herself. And no one had gone toe-to-toe with her in a ring for as long as he had. The memory of his blade at her throat rubbed uncomfortably against her. He had nearly had her. Yet, how was she still alive?

The thought of his pity or mercy made her distinctly angry. She had no time for either. Prey was prey. It was kill or be killed in this galaxy and if that fool Mandalorian was thinking he could get the drop on her he had another thing coming.

She rubbed the hilt of her blades together, frowning. Something felt off. The weight from one of the blades was heavier than they should have been. She examined the odd vibroblade and felt a leaden weight crash into her stomach. It wasn't her knife that he had given back to her.

It was the Mandalorian's.

That's all for now! Probably another update later next week. Please feel free to leave a review if you're like the story. :)