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On Assignment

She had stolen the speeder.

A nice one, too, Din noted as they careened into Coruscant traffic, the little one whooping with glee, sticking its claws up in the air to catch the wind whipping up around them. Zethu drove them in complete, icy silence.

In fact, she hadn't said a word all that morning. Din had spent the better part of last night mulling over her words. She hadn't been spinning him a story, of that he was absolutely certain. There was too much fury, too much pain in the retelling to have been a fake to garner some sympathy. Zethu Desh was both fugitive and terrorist, hunter and prey. It was more than relatable. It was a perfect mirror.

And he hated that.

The wind blew up Zethu's silver hair, but she didn't seem to mind, reaching one hand off the steering wheel to slick the strands back down over her ears. Her eyes widened in that half-second of stillness before she pulled them into a steep decline. Sirens and horns blared in all directions as Zethu plunged straight down multiple levels before yanking them sharply down a left lane, through the floating alley of one of the massive superstructures that made up the planet.

"What are you doing?!" Din shouted, hands firmly around the child to keep it in place. He had nearly lost his grip on the kid and the sudden motion could have sent him flying out into the air. If this was a trap finally sprung—

"Got a bad feeling," Zethu snapped. "Someone's following us."

Din wanted to argue over her stupidity on making such bold moves based on little more than instinct, but he'd done worse himself. He craned his head back over his shoulder. It was impossible to tell if someone was truly following them in this traffic. He tried to make a mental note of some of the more obvious features on the speeders. A slate gray one was riding next to them, black to the right, and a silver one directly behind.

Better to chance it.

"Sharp right," Din pointed and Zethu took it.

"Hang on!"

She punched it so that they went flying up several levels again, swinging around a city block much to the drowned curses and honks of annoyed civilians. That sharp girn returned to Zethu's formally stoic face and as they flew she couldn't help put let out a small whoop of excitement. It was a nice change of pace, Din thought, and flying in atmo in such a small craft always had a different feeling.

He looked back behind them once more, most of the speeders were a sea of blended colors and unrecognizable features again. Maybe no one had been following them. Maybe Zethu had just wanted an excuse to pull some high-flying stunts. Maybe—

The silver speeder flashed as it rose upwards again, directly behind them.

A point for Zethu's instincts, then. Din swallowed hard. Someone really was following them.

"Silver speeder," he said, settling back in and reaching for his blaster. "So much for 'no one cares who you are on Coruscant.'"

A snarl escaped Zethu's throat, made especially jarring given the smile still fading on her face. "They promised me more time!" She gunned it as far as the engines would take them.

"Don't think it's the imps, Desh," Din grunted, catching a flash of blue paint along the speeder's exterior.

She hazarded her own glance and Din watched as all that bravado drained from Zethu's face. She turned back to face the sky lanes. "Fuck," was all she whispered before taking them once again into a deeper spiral.

"Who are they?" he asked over the roaring wind, but Zethu wasn't about to answer.

Din slammed into the front of the speeder as a blaster shot struck them. They were armed? Most speeders for civilian use weren't armed. Panic exploded all around them as speeders hit the brakes and dove or rose to get out of the way. Din even saw a pair of them crash rather spectacularly as Zethu navigated them out of the chaos.

Din didn't wait for permission, he tucked the kid firmly against his side and leaned back, blaster at the ready and fired two shots in quick succession. His weapon wasn't going to be much of a match for actual cannons, but if he could knock out their engines then it really wouldn't matter how had come to the fight with the bigger rifle.

Zethu took them in a banked curve through another side alley. The building were losing their height in this district. She plunged them down to meet the new level, but they were exposed. An explosion rocked the speeder as their pursuer fired another volley of blasts just as they were leveling out.

Din's world became nothing but air and wind as the speeder tilted at top speeds, jostling its contents loose. Panic filled him as he heard the kid cry out in panic even as he slipped over the side. Din gripped the toppling edge of the speeder for dear life, legs dangling into the ether. He couldn't possibly reach the kid and keep himself attached.

And he didn't need to.

Zethu was holding the kid against her. She shoved the emergency brake down, leaving them suspended, but no longer plummeting. Grabbing her own blaster she fired at the silver speeder again and again and again. Most shots didn't make a dent, but one sent the engine sparking and the speeder careening. She kept firing at it as it tried to dive. Din saw the red of the blaster fire reflected in her colorless eyes, matching the hatred on her face. Smoke spiraled upwards as the speeder disappeared.

Din felt his hands slip. Frantically he tried to ignite the fuel in his jet pack but he hadn't had the opportunity to refuel it since his last bout with the merc. "Zethu…"

"Mando!"

She lunged across the speeder as his hand left the edge, grabbing his arm. He hadn't expected that. The light played tricks here, especially in her strange otherwordly eyes. There was real panic there. She had one arm holding tight to the kid and even for all her athletic skill she was struggling just to keep him in place let alone pull him aboard.

"I've got you."

Nothing should have made him feel less reassured by that, and yet, he did. She gave him a strained nod and took a breath. Din felt...something grip him. He looked around, almost letting go of Zethu's hand in the process. It was solid, but invisible. Something lifted him up and it wasn't Zethu's strength. It raised him high enough so that he could tumble back into the speeder. Safe.

Zethu sat back against the seat, panting, sweat covering her face, slicking her hair to her skin. The little one broke free of her grip and latched itself to Din's side, claws grabbing his hand as if to check he was ok. He tapped its head gently. "Thanks...both of you."

Zethu piloted the ruins of their speeder over to a suitable landing platform where they abandoned the thing before it could crash for good. Din noticed she was still strangely exhausted, far too much for a simple chase to have caused.

"At least we're close," she commented, checking her weapons.

"Who were those people?" Din asked.

"Adascorp."

Only the most powerful corporation on Arkania, hell, most of the galaxy owed half their med bays and tech to them. "This damn planet," Zethu tried to play it off. "Should've gotten a new helmet before coming here. Cameras everywhere."

He was getting used to her moods now. He could practically feel her rage and fear radiating off of her. "Hey," before he could stop himself he placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're on a job. If they interfere we'll take them down."

She stared at the hand on her shoulder and Din released her just as quickly. She gave him a shaky nod and stalked ahead. Din flexed his fingers as he fell into step at her side. She was surprisingly warm for such a cold exterior. He could still feel the heat in his gloved hand from where he had touched her practically burning into his skin.

Zethu tried to shake the exhaustion coating her like an oil slick, but it remained clinging to her. She breathed, deep and calm as she walked alongside the Mandalorian, hands itching to grip the handle of her blaster.

She wished she had her old modified pilot's helmet with its safe tinted visor, its vocal modulator, and thin barrier to the outside world. She didn't know why, but her senses felt raw, exposed. She had felt this way only a handful of times in her life. Sounds were so much louder now, and voices—a million things being said all at once—flooded her ears. She wiped a hand over her sweat-covered brow and marched gamely on.

They were close to the tech centers now, only a few more levels and blocks over. It would be faster if they still had the speeder, but she wasn't about to risk stealing another one. Zethu kept her head low, eyes on the walkways and her boots. Any number of worldwide cams could have caught her the second she stepped out of the Razor Crest. It had been so long since she'd been on a planet with proper surveillance without a disguise. If it hadn't been for those instincts of hers the Adascorp hirelings would have had the drop on her.

Right now those same instincts were firing off all over the place, like a deep nerve open to the air. A brief interlude of calm came when Zethu saw a little green claw appear in her periphery. The kid was reaching out, tugging lightly on her hair with a smile. "Not now, little bug," Zethu said, a tired smile on her face as the Mandalorian shifted it to the arm furthest from her.

"I think I'm starting to see why you threw away your reputation for this one," she remarked. The kid tilted its head away from the Mandalorian's arm, smiling wide at her before ducking out of sight only to repeat the action. She did feel a little better.

They made their way over to one of the lifts. Zethu took another deep breath to steady herself, closing her eyes for a fraction of a second.

And she knew.

She didn't know how. She never knew how, but her instincts were never wrong. Snapping her eyes open, she pushed the Mandalorian behind her as she drew her weapon in the same breath and fired.

The merc wearing the steel grey and blue of Adascorp fell without firing a single shot. "Run," was all she said before grabbing hold of the Mandalorian's free arm and tearing back into the chaotic city streets, screams from civilians filling the air and her ears, her mind.

Terror, panic, fear, confusion. It all mulled together into a frenzy. Exhaustion still plagued her, but Zethu felt a new adrenaline lent her speed. The Mandalorian fired off a few shots of his own before focusing on escape. "Three more on us," he said. "Oh, make that five."

"Stop counting!" Zethu urged, knocking over crates and parked speeders to buy them a modicum of time.

They couldn't possibly hope to outrun them, but getting into a firefight in a major Coruscant street was not exactly ideal. It was only a matter of time before security made its way to where they were.

"Through here, hurry."

The Mandalorian lobbed a smoke grenade out into the crowd and tugged on her arm, taking her into a tight alley that was more of a crack between two buildings. With one fluid motion he pulled her against him, the little one between them both. There was no room to move. The cold, smooth beskar rubbed up against Zethu's cheek as she found herself pressed against the Mandalorian's chest.

From beyond the smoke cleared and Zethu heard the sound of boots running past and the continued swearing and screaming of a confused populace. But the immediate danger was gone.

In that stillness there was only the sound of their breathing. She was so close to him she could even hear the steady drum of his heartbeat through his armor. It was only then she became aware of the gloved hand against the back of her head, keeping her close in the cramped space.

Breath caught in her lungs as she looked up at him, so close now she almost thought she could fool herself into seeing his eyes past the tinted visor. "That's three times you've saved my life," he said. Even with the modulator in his helmet the words were soft, mystified.

"Thought I told you to stop counting," she surprised herself by how quiet her own voice was in reply.

The far-off sound of sirens broke through the tension with a sharp wail, startling them both. The hand at the back of her head fell away, replaced with a vague disappointment that Zethu could not explain. "We'd better get out of here."

By the time they got to the heart of the Tech Centers they had lost their pursuers. That didn't stop Zethu from looking over her shoulder every few minutes. She still couldn't shake the alien sensation pricking at the back of her mind. But each time she did the Mandalorian would give her a curt, reassuring nod and...a calm stole over her. Instead of that constant raw panic or rage urging her forward, pushing her on she—she wasn't sure what it really was—focused?

"How do you want to play this?"

Zethu gave her head a small shake, realizing she had been gawking at the Mandalorian for just a heartbeat too long. "We—I—actually planned on walking right in. You stay out here and keep watch, I'll walk him out, we escort him back to the Razor Crest. You got your commlink?" She fished for her own in her jacket pocket.

He nodded and that was good enough for her. She brushed past him to head towards the inner centers when a hand on her shoulder stopped her cold.

"You could let me go inside," the Mandalorian's voice was tempered and even, everything opposite what was rolling through her head. "You could wait out here and whatever happens in there...you wouldn't be responsible."

Stars, but she would never understand this man. "Hide like a coward?" she shrugged out of his grasp and tapped a fist against his chestplate. "Didn't I already break enough of your ribs once for that?"

"That's not what I—"

"I know what you meant, Mando. And I'm...grateful. But this is something I have to do."

He didn't try to stop her a second time and Zethu left him. The surge of endless emotions from every corner of the city center around filled her mind up again. As she walked she tried to fish for that calm. She didn't like that it seemed to come from picturing that damned Mandalorian.

A job was supposed to be a job. Simple. Impersonal. Efficient. She'd spent the better part of two and half decades living and hunting alone. Now the mark she'd been sent to bring back had saved her own life countless times. Her fingers brushed against the hilt of the vibroblade at her belt, not her own, but the Mandalorian's. Why had he given her his own weapon? A shudder ran down her spine, and did he have her own blade in return? Was that some kind of alien custom? She just couldn't understand him.

The inner workings of the tech center were as labyrinthine as the Coruscant streets. Long corridors spiraled into wide, open rooms that all glowed with the steady blue of datapads and files. Workers and guests filtered in and out, only a few glanced her way, taken aback by her visible black eye and still-setting broken nose no doubt. Just pretend you have business here. False confidence flooded through her as she strode towards an info desk, connecting up her own datapad to the info-control.

A friendly welcome screen flashed on guiding her through the departments at the tech center. It was the work of a moment to find the staff info on Gedos Sal. Engineering dataminer in Building 3A of subunit 5. Simplicity at its best. She unplugged and leisurely made her way to the offices of the engineering department.

"How's it going?" a crackled voice at her comm asked.

"Heading over to see our friend now," Zethu said softly, friendly. Keep things casual, there's no reason for anyone to wonder who or what she was talking about. She could see others chatting into their own personal comms and mini holoprojectors. "Why don't you head over to the back of Engineering and we'll meet you there?"

"On my way."

A growing dread spread through her stomach as she entered the engineering buildings. It was just a regular tech office. Not nearly as big as the main center or some of the other fancier departments she had passed on her way here. The offices in subunit 5 were humdrum, recording and cataloging info on ships, mechanics, and the like. That dread grew thicker when Zethu caught sight of her target.

The older Offshoot man's silver hair was nearly as white as the rest of him with age. He was hunched over a datapad, typing. He looked...stars he looked so much older than she remembered. Her mouth was dry. It was hard to swallow. She remembered him giving her half of his pay shortly after her parents had died. The overseers had docked her own the first year of her life as an orphan. Punishment for being the rebels' child. Damn Crimson Dawn, could they have known about their relationship? No, that was paranoia. There was no way…

"Can I help you?" a droid at the reception desk asked in a crisp tone.

"Uh, yes, I...I'm here to see—"

"Zethu?!"

Gedos had turned about in his chair, colorless eyes wide as saucers. He appeared as dumbstruck as she was until he recovered himself, springing from his seat and rushing towards her. Zethu sucked in a breath through her teeth as he gripped her by the shoulders. "What are you doing here? How…" he lowered his voice and pulled her back and away from the reception desk. "How are you still alive? What's happened to you?" he pointed to the bruises on her face.

"Long story, old man," she tried to crack a confident smile. "I came here for you. Can we talk?"

"Me? Of...of course. I'm due for a break anyway."

He walked out with her, as Zethu knew he would. No hesitation, not second guessing. Gedos didn't even seem to think there was anything odd about her presence outside of her general continued existence. Just as she predicted. The plan was working accordingly.

She just hadn't been expecting him to pull her into an embrace as they left the subunit. He put a finger to her lips to silence her as he held her at arm's length. "Before you say anything. I know what happened on the freighter. I won't ask you why you did what you did, it's history as far as I'm concerned."

Zethu had figured. If Gedos had been working with Crimson Dawn prior to joining the Rebellion he'd have to have run into Atan and the others at some point on Numidian. "But what have you been doing since you fled?" Gedos pressed. "Why did you never return to Arkania?"

"And risk the wrath of Adascorp? It was already hell enough coming to Coruscant."

"Your parents—"

"Don't lecture me about my parent's Gedos!"

"Your parents would have wanted you to fight for the rest of the miners. Where did you go, Zethu? I thought for certain I'd see you with the other Rebels during the wars. You were never at any base I was stationed at. Why contact me now? I can tell from your face you're in some kind of trouble. Always were. Will you stay in Coruscant? I should introduce you to my contacts. There's a small community of other Offshoots working for the Republic, it's a chance to reconnect with our people.."

"Our people?!" She should know better than to let Gedos rile her up. She tried to keep her voice down until they exited the main building, out onto the bright Coruscant streets of the upper levels. "The same people who let me starve while I was an orphan? The same cowards who wanted to beg for Arkanian mercy? Those are not my people. I see you haven't changed though. Still drinking my parents' swill about rebellion and justice."

Gedos' mood shifted coldly. "Then why come to me now?"

Zethu stared on ahead, catching a flash of silver beskar as the Mandalorian waited near a side street. She said nothing, only steered them both in his direction. Gedos must have taken her silence for shame. "You know I did my best to keep their memory alive for you," he said quietly. "They wouldn't have wanted you to resent them, or your people. But you were always," he shook his head. "...I would have thought you'd let go of your hate a long time ago, Zethu. Sometimes fighting to a better world means sacrificing the unthinkable."

She shrugged off his hand on her shoulder. "Then they were fools. Survival is the only thing that matters in this galaxy. The only thing I can thank my parents for is giving me that early lesson."

They were getting closer now. It was time.

"I know you didn't seek me out after all this time just to spite me, Zethu."

"No," she reached for the blaster at her hip. "Actually I'm here on business."

Gedos looked at her confused, before he saw the blaster pointed at him. She kept it low so as to attract as little notice from the populace as possible and tried to ignore the guilt slowly gnawing at her ribcage. "Who would have ever thought the honorable Gedos Sal would have worked for Crimson Dawn? I'm guessing rebellion didn't put food on the table, right?"

"You?" he seemed incredulous. "They sent you?"

"Not just her."

Gedos started in surprise as he nearly backed up into the Mandalorian. Zethu could see the dawning realization that he had been herded spark in his eyes. But there was no fear there. He looked from the Mandalorian back to her with only dismay and disappointment. "I will not go quietly," he warned.

"I figured," Zethu nodded.

"Do you have any idea what they will do to me if you take me back to them?" Gedos hissed. "When I left Arkania there was...there were no options for me! I did what I had to do—"

"To survive?" Zethu felt a force squeeze her heart. "Don't worry, Gedos. Crimson Dawn won't do anything with you."

He looked grateful. In that split second before Zethu pulled him in close, a hand about his shoulder, he regarded her with a look she hadn't seen on anyone's face since childhood: complete trust.

And then she fired.

The gratitude on Gedos' face melted into shock. He fell forward against her, only her arm keeping him propped up. She dropped the blaster to catch him fully as he struggled to speak. Horrid gurgling sounds retched out of his throat as his weakening hands began to beat at her chest to get away from her.

She knelt down, laying him out on that dirty side alley as he grabbed her by the collar, his face now a mask of twisted rage. "You shame...your family…" he choked, breath wheezing from burned out lungs. "You were right...you aren't...one of us."

She knew that. She had known that for her entire life. Why should a dying old man's curse feel any worse? Gently, she tilted Gedo's head upwards so his dead eyes could see the sun. "Stars guide you," she whispered the old Offshoot words of passing. "May you walk into the light and never again know shadow, or darkness."

Slowly, and on shaking legs she rose to her feet, head bowed low. "Crimson Dawn would have kept him alive for days," she explained, voice threatening to break against her will. She was eight years old again and holding on to Gedo's dirty work sleeves sobbing as her parents were dragged away. "Tortured him."

"It was a mercy," the Mandalorian understood this time. She looked up at him with dry eyes and she knew he was staring right back at her through that masked visor. "Let's move him back to the ship."

"No," Zethu stayed his hand. "He has to look into the stars for just a few more moments or his soul will be trapped in shadow. It's our way."

He remained standing at her side in silence as Zethu counted the minutes, she never removed her hand from his arm. She lost count momentarily as she felt the Mandalorian's gloved hand slowly cover her own. At her nod he let go and bent to pick up the body of Gedos Sal. She didn't even have to tell him to keep the man's eyes open. He seemed to guess that wouldn't be right.

The little one latched on her leg, nudging her calf with its head. Gently she picked up the child and not for the first time wondered what the Imperials wanted with it. There came that sick feeling again, that shame and guilt, it would be another mercy to simply kill the kid so they'd never get the chance to tinker with it. Better still to kill its caretaker as well so he'd never have to live with the shame of failure.

"I can't…" she whispered. "I—"

"We'll need to steal another speeder…Zethu? Let's go."

The horror must have still been evident on her face because the Mandalorian gave her a quizzical tilt of his head. "I won't do this," she said stronger this time. "I don't know what the Imperials want with you or the kid, but I...I can't...the imps will need to find someone else to do their dirty work, because it won't be me!"

Bit of a long one so thanks for sticking with it. Zethu is a complicated gal, but I think she might be Feelings some things she isn't ready to deal with yet. :D Be sure to drop a review if you're liking things so far. Much more to come!