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Betrayal

The minute they reached the safety of hyperspace and were well on their way out of Coreworld space, Din felt the stress that had been pressing on him since they started this mission lift. He left the cockpit to find his former hunter sitting between two crates of supplies in what passed for a living quarters on the Razor Crest. The kid was with her, perched on one of the crates, watching her with concern. Its ears were pointed back and down with worry.

He didn't bother to usher it away this time. Zethu Desh, was no longer the enemy.

Din took a hard look at the merc. All trace of that former cockiness and confidence was gone. Her shoulders were slumped, her head down. She was running a vibroblade over her fingers and back in an agility exercise, but she was hardly paying any attention. The bruises on her pale face had turned to a dull yellow-purple.

"What will you do now?" He had thought about cracking some sort of joke, but humor, even his dry version of it, felt ill-placed here.

She looked up at him, brow furrowed. "I don't know." She sounded lost. "Get a new contract, I guess," a shrug. "Might as well stay on Numidian for a bit. Lay low. I can hitch a ride back to Nevarro to get my Lancer once the heat dies down."

Defeat hovered around her. How hard it was to spend your whole life clawing to get to some semblance of normalcy and routine only to have it ripped away. For his sake. He wouldn't feel guilty, had no right too, but Din saw keenly her displacement. "You could stick with us."

Zethu's shock mirrored his own. The offer came instinctively. She had been nothing but trouble to him since they had met, a constant threat that had come close to ending him more than once. Even now she could still be baiting a trap. He remembered his first meeting with her, how congenial she had been before turning a blaster on him. There were other things he could recall as well. Her pushing the kid out of the way of a rockslide without hesitation, her pushing him back away from blaster fire, and her leaning out over the side of the busted speeder as he hung over thin air, pulling him up out of the ether.

I've got you.

"I don't need your pity," Zethu's cruel snap brought him back to reality.

"Not pity."

She regarded him with wary eyes. The blade still undulated across her fingers like water as she nervously fidgeted. "So...what? You just travel across the galaxy picking up strays?" she nodded at the child.

"The child is a foundling," Din ruffled the kid's ears as he made his way over, sitting atop the opposite crate. "Until I can either find its kind or it comes of age, it's in my care and under my protection."

Zethu's eyes shifted from child to man before her face split wide and she let out a surprised, disbelieving laugh. "What, are you serious? Do all Mandalorians just go around adopting helpless creatures then?"

"This is The Way."

"Well, sorry but I'm not looking to be adopted by anyone. Disappointing one species is enough for me, thank you." Zethu stopped fidgeting with the blade, letting it rest, half tilted down, the sharp tip still balanced between her fingers. "Lucky kid," she said with a small smile. "Maybe if someone like you found me when I was still young my life would have been different."

"Still could be."

The process for conversion was different for adults than foundlings. It was rare, but certainly not unheard of and—why in the galaxy was he jumping so far ahead? Letting Zethu loose among his own kind brought back the images of the sleek vornskr she reminded him so much of. Predatory, proud, and dangerous to their core. Not two standard days ago she was still threatening to kill him. Zethu had a faraway look in her eye, and the same sad smile hadn't moved from her lips.

"You know I almost got sent off to some fancy school in the Core?" She turned her head towards him. "Was too young to remember much and the war was on in full swing. But I remember my parents arguing with some Togruta about sending me," she shrugged. "Maybe it was some scam or other, but I never stopped wondering what I'd be doing with a fancy education offworld. Been brought up respectable. Away from Arkania. What about you?"

The little one had snuck into Din's lap, curling up rather happily. He put a hand against its head. "Not much to tell."

"Aw, come on. I spill my guts and you get quiet?" She leaned her head back against the metal wall, fixing him with a look of open curiosity.

Din shrugged. "Grew up during the wars, too. Family died during a battle and the Mandalorians took me in. That's all there is to tell."

"Look at us—ship full of orphans."

Short, silver hair fell over her eyes and Din made himself look away. When those colorless eyes weren't trying to stab you with rage or hatred, a person could get lost in them. "So…" he cleared his throat, "we land on Numidian and you go your way, that's it?"

"Simple," she nodded. "I doubt the imps are going to take kindly to my reneging on our deal."

The alarm signaling their drop out of hyperspace began to blare and with reluctance Din rose to his feet to head back to the pilot's chair. Zethu stood as well, laughing softly to herself as the kid raised his arms to be picked up, which she obliged, pocketing the blade before the child could start reaching for it.

"You are more than just a merc, Zethu Desh," he said before he could stop himself.

Confusion laced with something akin to panic flashed across her face at his words. "Sometimes what you see is what you get, Mando," she whispered, almost as if she couldn't fathom summoning enough breath to answer him.

He'd seen her fight like a true warrior, a protector first on instinct, the rest all learned behavior. A creature of pure survival, like him, she had been right he had no place to judge her and she had proven herself. But what use convincing her when she would not see these qualities in herself? "Strap in," he grunted, starting the climb up. "Numidian is never an easy landing."

She couldn't get the Mandalorian's words out of her head. Most of her life had been lived alone since her exile from the rest of the Offshoots. She was sure she had committed almost every reprehensible crime in the galaxy. She owed no one loyalty, and no one owed her. It was better that way. Survival above all. Every day alive was a victory over the Arkanians, over her parents, over every other Offshoot that had wanted her to be something she never would.

So what did it matter what this one Mandalorian thought?

No one stopped them as they walked right through the outpost's gates with the carbonite corpse of Gedos Sal floating between them. Zethu stared straight ahead, trying not to look at the body of the man who had cursed her with his dying breath.

Shame. That's all she was, and if the Mandalorian had any brains he'd see that, too. Maybe letting him and the kid go was the one good thing she would ever do in her life. It hardly made up for anything. She still could barely believe why she was letting him go when her every survival instinct was screaming at her to get the jump on him, get the job done, take the payout and regard her hesitation as a rare moment of weakness and never think about it again.

She couldn't. She couldn't. No realization frightened her more.

They were met at the loading docks by the same severe Corellian woman who had sent them on their assignment. No fancy pent house office meetings this time. That suited Zethu fine. She was already itching to get the credits, pay for passage, and get on her Lancer far far away from the chance of running into any other Offshoots or Mandalorians ever again.

"Such efficiency!" The woman spread her arms, ruby lips open in a charming smile.

"He didn't come quietly," the Mandalorian spoke for them both. "Had to be put down."

"Ah, a pity," the woman nodded, checking over the carbonite slab, examining it as if it was some shiny piece of new tech. "But what's done is done," with a snap of her fingers an aide stepped forward with two separate pouches.

Zethu took her half of the payout, tucking it away into her belt. She felt sick.

"Our business is concluded. Feel free to enjoy our hospitality for as long as you remain on Numidian," that smile again. "And as long as you refrain from shooting up any more of my employees. I should be greatly disappointed to put a bounty on your heads next," she laughed and strode away on her heels, her guards taking control of the carbonite.

And just like that Gedos Sal was gone, as if he never had existed in the first place. Zethu had a powerful desire to gamble and drink those credits down as fast as possible. "So…"

"So."

There was no more contract keeping them together, no truces, no bounties. Zethu shifted awkwardly in the silence. "Stay for a drink?"

He tilted his head at her. "Not really my scene," he gestured to his helmet.

"Oh. Right." Stupid, stupid, stupid. "A walk, instead? Bet the lil' bug could stand for stretching its legs."

As if in answer the kid poked its head out from under the Mandalorian's cloak where it had been hiding. "You know you can come back with me as far as Nevarro, right?" The Mandalorian sighed, but he fell into step alongside her just the same.

They walked out of the outpost, both realizing the gambling dens and catinas wouldn't exactly make for a peaceful stroll; however much Zethu was still itching to burn those credits. Already she could feel the creeping flood of the inhabitants fears and excitements. Or maybe she was just projecting her own anxieties.

As they exited the outpost and into the jungle trails that deluge in her mind receded and Zethu embraced the calm of the forest, and the silence of her walking partner. The landing bay was just behind them. They'd make a circuit and walk back. The little one was already toddling on ahead, following a jumping mantis-like insect.

"Where are you two bound?" Zethu asked after a time.

"The last time I was here I was looking for information on the kid's people," he explained. "Only got as far as 'Jedi' before I was...interrupted."

A low chuckle rumbled through her. "Be glad it was only an interruption. That distraction ended up saving your life, Mando. Hmm...I've heard that term once or twice by the way. Some kinda monks, right? Hey, if I hear anything more in my travels you'll be the first I tell."

"Thanks."

In truth the few times she had ever heard the term Jedi was in hushed, frightened whispers here and there. She wasn't really sure who they were. A religious order? Crime syndicate? It was as if people were afraid to even let on they knew the name. That would make getting intel extremely difficult and—hang on why was she already committing to going off on some star's addled chase already?

The wind picked up around them rustling the leaves on some of the lower ferns. Blinking into the dappled light, Zethu noticed that all the rest of the leaves further down didn't seem to be moving. Odd.

"Should probably head back," the Mandalorian said.

"Yeah...hey, it was...good to meet you—"

"Din Djarin."

He held out a hand. Zethu found herself staring before she reached out to shake it. "Din," she smiled as he squeezed her hand just a little tighter as she said his name. It suited him, she thought, almost like she had already known his name.

"Offer's a standing one," he said, still not taking his hand from hers. "Would rather have you watching my back than trying to kill me any day."

She laughed. "See ya, Din."

"Hey," he released her head and looked around. "Where's the kid?"

Zethu also looked about, no sign of the little one anywhere. "Hey kid!" she shouted. She could see its distinctive footsteps leading off in a straight line through the jungle. "Probably just kept walking on ahead, shouldn't be far."

She shouldn't be pleased this gave her more time with Din, but he was past paying any attention to her. He tore on ahead, focus solely on making sure his charge was alright. "There's a clearing, I see it. Probably there," he muttered, following the tracks.

So he didn't see the ships before Zethu did.

"Din...Din run…"

But she couldn't get enough breath to properly warn him. He was moving too far ahead and too fast. He finally saw right at the crest of the clearing. The freighters surrounded by Imperial stormtroopers. At least they found the little one, in the arms of an ex-Imperial officer. And at the center of it, her employer.

Din had his blaster drawn. "Let the kid go!" If Zethu had thought she had seen the full wrath of the Mandalorian she had been dead wrong. Even with the modulator and the armor she could feel rage in its purest form radiating off of him.

A dozen blaster rifles aimed for him at all once and Zethu felt her heart drop into her stomach at alarming speed.

"That would be a mistake," Moff Gideon strode forward towards Din, completely unaffected by the display. He stood tall, with a military grace and confidence that only came from years of effective leadership. Threats were beneath him, Zethu knew this. Even in her short experience working for the man, Gideon only ever made promises.

"You had an admirable run, but here we are. I have what I came for. Put down the blaster, Djarin or it won't be you my men shoot." The implication was impossibly clear. Din faltered for a moment as the blasters shifted towards the baby.

"Ah, Zethu Desh, there she is, exactly on schedule." Any hope of the imps not having noticed her died in that moment. She reached for her own weapon but found her hand gripped tight in Moff Gideon's grasp. "I commend you for a job well done and let it not be said I am not a man of my word," he slapped a bag of credits into her hand.

"No...I…"

"You?"

Din turned his head and Zethu did not need to see his eyes to feel his betrayal. It was everywhere in that one, quiet, pained, word. She shook her head, but Gideon's pull was stronger.

"Many of my staff felt you had gone rogue, but when we were so helpfully informed that you and Din Djarin were here on Numidian, I knew we could coordinate to plan. Thank you for leading him and the asset out. Take him."

Gideon was stronger than he appeared. Zethu struggled in his grip as some of the stormtroopers approached. Din lashed out, dropping one with a solid punch and sending the other reeling backwards with another well-placed blow. "I wouldn't delay," Gideon said, not for a second taking his eyes off Zethu. "The longer I am made to wait, the more unsteady my men's trigger fingers become."

The kid let out a cry as the officer holding it placed her own blaster to its head. "Din, don't!" Zethu shouted. All further cries were silenced at the prick of a blade against her belly. Gideon had her, concealing the weapon with his own body.

Panting, Din whirled about, aiming his weapon at the circle of troopers helplessly before giving out a cry of frustration, throwing down the weapon. The troopers moved in then, latching stun cuffs onto his wrists before he could think to attack again.

"Get them onto the ship."

"No!" Zethu choked as the blade dug in, she felt it begin to draw blood through her jacket.

Din was tugged forward by one of the stormtroopers. He looked back at her. "Traitor," he hissed before being led onto the ship. The little one crying in fear after him. Zethu glared fire at Gideon, struggling harder at the sound, gagging in pain as the blade drove another inch further in.

As soon as he had his prizes Zethu found herself released. She tried to run for the ship, but was backhanded by Gideon, sending her sprawling onto the underbrush. "My advice to you, Zethu Desh, would be to take your money and get out of this system" he spat, contemptuously. He wiped the blade with a kerchief before sheathing it. "If it hadn't been for our point of contact with Crimson Dawn we might have missed this little rendezvous. As it stands...I have what I came for, you have your money, and if…" he loomed over her. "You think to interfere in anyway after this I will revisit letting you live, but I believe the Mandalorian won't be accepting any further help from you."

Rage. Hot, red, and burning exploded behind Zethu's eyes. Blood roared in her ears as she lunged at Gideon. She had no weapon in hand when she attacked. It wasn't too late to hold him hostage herself and negotiate terms. Or to tear him apart.

The blaster shot felt more like an inconvenience than a real threat. Half mad with anger, Zethu simply cast her hand out to shove the incoming plasma bolt aside like an annoying pebble. She felt something shift against her, like a thread, and the bolt never struck her.

Vaguely she was aware Gideon was firing again, but there was only a red hazy mist over her. He was backing away towards the ship and the soldiers who had far more firepower than a single blaster.

"Although our contract is concluded, Zethu, you should know," Gideon stepped up onto the boarding ramp. "I have neglected to fulfill one half of our full bargain. I believe this is a worthy enough trade given the trouble you have seen fit to cause me. Best of luck with the Dominion."

Blood was running down from her stomach, but she ran anyway. The boarding ramp was lifting. Gideon was already out of sight. The child was gone. Din Djarin was...gone. In her rage she threw her vibroblade at the hull of the ship.

That tether from before reared back through her, pulling muscle and sinew with a weight Zethu had never felt before. All the breath left her lungs, her blood seemed to heat in her veins. And for one startling moment it looked as if the ship had lowered in the sky before she collapsed into unconsciousness in the now quiet and peaceful jungle clearing.

A/N: Things. Are. Happening. :D I won't make y'all sit with this cliff for too long, I promise. Feel free to drop a review in the meantime. Thanks for reading! :)