7.
"What kind of job?" Mando asked, twirling his blasters back into their holsters. He signaled for Zo to stand down, and she sheathed her lightsaber.
Ran smiled, "I'll need a couple of hours to get the rest of the crew here, and I don't wanna explain myself more than once. Lemme show you to your quarters for the meantime." He nodded to his men, and they gathered their weapons and disappeared back into the noise and shadows of the docking bay. More than one of them shot Zo a bewildered, frightened look before going back to their previous tasks. Ran jerked his bearded chin for them to follow, then strolled away without making sure they did.
"What the krif was that?" Mando hissed, pulling Zo close as he bent down, nearly pressing his helmet into her forehead. "Why didn't you get the info from him?"
"I tried. I told you it doesn't always work." She said, "His will is strong. He's hiding things–things he wants to remain hidden."
"You should've tried harder!" He fumed as they followed Ran's trail of blue smoke around towers of spare tires and decommissioned droids.
"I'll try again if you want. Give me ten minutes and a locked room; there's more than one way to skin a lothcat." She retorted, double-checking over her shoulder that Grogu's pram was following them. "No guarantee he won't be more than a drooling mess when I'm done with him…" Mando turned his helmet towards her, and she sensed his buzzing irritation, the only emotion he didn't try to seal away.
Ran came to a waddling halt in the middle of a dark, stale corridor off the docking bay. "I'm sure you'll find these accommodations suitable, Mando." He said with a nasty little grin nearly hidden under his scraggly bushel of facial hair. A single dim light flickered to life as Zo peeked around Mando's chest and inspected the dank little room. It was empty except for a tiny Jawa-sized bunk shoved against a damp wall. Zo wrinkled her nose at the stale, moldy stench that wafted out. Mando seemed unbothered, likely because his helmet filtered the rankest of smells. "And you, my lovely, your quarters are a level up," He nodded towards the gravlift at the end of the dark hallway. "On the way, you can tell me how much you're gettin' paid to hang around that rusty hunk of junk."
"I kind of like that rusty hunk of junk," Zo smirked, stepping towards the shorter man and away from the Bounty Hunter. "The Razor Crest's not that bad either."
Mando's hand shot out and engulfed hers. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, not painful but possessive, as he pulled her to his side. "Where she goes, I go." Zo shot him a dangerous, narrowed-eyed look that meant there was no way in any of the hells of the galaxy she would be staying in that room. "And these accommodations are unsuitable for us, Ranzar."
Ranzar chewed his cigar; his dark, baggy eyes narrowed at the Mandalorian and the odd unit he made with the woman at his side and the green, big-eared thing in the floating egg. "Never pictured you as a family-man, Mando." He grumbled before letting the hatch slam shut.
The gravlift ride to the next level was quiet and awkward. Ran's rotund body took up most of the front of the service lift. Grogu floated next to him, big brown eyes wide and curious. He kept reaching one clawed hand out to touch the man's frizzy hair. Mando shoved his bulk into one corner and dragged Zo in front of him, his hands on her hips, holding her like he was afraid if she got too close to Ranzar, she would be sucked into his orbit, never to escape. His grip wasn't painful but tight enough to convey the unspoken message not to fight him or cause a scene.
Zo wasn't in the mood to shake him off or swat him away. She hated that she enjoyed the closeness of his body and the feel of his hands resting lazily on the curve of her hips. She wanted to know if he was enjoying the contact as much as she was or if this would also go under the 'mistake' column of their relationship. As usual, she sensed nothing; he was sealed off. He might as well be a droid, cold and hard and emotionless. Zo spared a glance over her shoulder, lifting her head to look into his visor. His fingers tensed a fraction, and she smiled. The T-shaped glass of his visor was dark and unreadable as always.
The level above the docking port was dry and brightly lit. The corridor ran in a large ring that curved away in either direction. They trailed behind Ranzar, passing at least twenty identical hatches before he stopped and unlocked one for them. This time the room was well lit, full of freshly recirculated air, and contained two built-in bunks with privacy alcoves, a 'fresher with an actual door, and plenty of clean floor for the kid to crawl. "Do these accommodations meet your new standards?" Ran asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Mando nodded once. "D5'll come get you when the rest of the crew arrives," He grumbled, tossing his used cigar onto the ground and pulling a fresh one out of his leather vest.
Mando released Zo's fingers once Ran turned to leave them. She took the opportunity to dart away from his long reach and grabbed for Ranzar before he could waddle away. "Who taught you how to guard your thoughts?"
Ran eyed her suspiciously, his bushy eyebrows drawing together as he sucked on his cigar. She felt her will slip past his barricades. "Young guy. Pretty good thief had a knack for getting himself out of sticky situations." Ran exhaled a cloud of smoke, "Carried a weapon like yours. I tried more than once to get that son of a bitch to part with it."
"His name," Zo said, squeezing his arm for emphasis.
"Jarrus. Kanan Jarrus."
"And where can I find this Kanan Jarrus?"
Ran laughed, twin plumes of blue smoke blowing out of nostrils making him look like a plump, hairy dragon, "Last I heard, he died about ten years ago. Got mixed up in the Rebellion." Zo was unable to hide the cloud of disappointment that crossed her face. "You wouldn't be interested in parting with that, would you?" His fingers traced the metal hilt of her saber before brushing under her shirt and resting on the curve of her hip. "I could make you a very fair offer."
Where Mando's touch had been warm and welcomed after so many weeks dancing around one another, Ranzar's touch made her cold and queasy. His hand slid around her hip and squeezed the top of her ass like he was testing a jogan melon for ripeness. She heard Mando take a heavy step forward and angled her body in front of Ranzar. "Tell me where the Mandalorian is, and I'll think about it," Zo responded, trying to use his distraction to force her way into his mind. There was always more than one way to skin a lothcat.
His hand froze mid caress, his bushy eyebrows furrowed, and Zo felt her will forced back out of his mind. "Can't do that, sweetheart. I need Mando for the job."
Zo brushed his hand away with a grimace. "If you want to keep your hands attached to your body, don't ever touch my lightsaber or me again." She stepped before shutting the hatch in Ran's face. "What?" Zo huffed, noticing the Mandalorian watching her. His hands curled into fists at his side, and he shrugged one armored shoulder. "I don't trust him." She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing and twisting the russet locks up into a knot on her head as she walked towards the baby in his floating crib.
"I don't either," Mando replied.
"Then why are we still here?" She asked, bouncing the baby onto her hip.
"You have a better idea?"
She blew out a long breath. "We could try some of the bigger systems, planets that were friendly to the Rebellion. Maybe other Jedi joined the cause like Kanan Jarrus."
"Ran just said that idiot got himself killed working with the Rebels, and you don't even know if he was a Jedi-"
Zo put the baby down, and he immediately toddled away, chasing his shadow on the gray walls. "He was. I can sense it."
"You can sense it…." Mando muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "What makes you think other Jedi would have done the same thing?"
"Because they would have wanted to help."
"Did you help?" The words dripped with sarcasm. His helmet angled down, and she could feel his cold eyes on her.
Zo blushed crimson. Shame and anger bubbled up, congealing her insides into a nauseating ball. "No," she stared down at her scuffed boots. He was getting incredibly talented at picking her apart, whether it be the lightest touches of his hands or the harsh words he flippantly threw at her.
"And why not, Jetii'ika?"
"Because I saw what the Empire did to my people," she said, "Because I was terrified of what they would do to me if they found me. They slaughtered your people. What they did to the Jedi…it was so much worse." Grogu turned, his big ears twitching in concern as her voice rose.
"What makes you think other Jedi aren't just as afraid; Still hiding in the shadows-"
She scoffed, "You're one to talk, Mandalorian! You lived in a sewer on an Outer Rim dirt clod."
"It was a lava cooling tunnel."
"You are such a condescending asshole. I don't need this shit." She muttered, shaking her head.
"Then why the hell are you here?"
"Because," She yelled, stomping up to him, their chests nearly touching. "Because you kicked my fucking door down! I told you to walk away, but you dragged me into this shit show! And because someone has to look after him," She pointed to the baby who had a hold of a fuzzy, multi-legged bug pried from some dark corner of the room dangling in front of his waiting mouth.
"Don't eat that!" They yelled in unison, diving for the bug. Mando got to it first, his big hand curling around the insect and prying it out of the child's grip. Zo swooped in behind him, swinging Grogo back into her arms. His bottom lip quivered, big brown eyes shining with the threat of tears, forehead wrinkling as his features dissolved into a tantrum. He started crying a breath later, big hitching sobs that echoed around the cold, tiny room. Mando cursed under his breath and marched towards the hatch, boots stomping on the cement floor, cape whipping out behind him, squishing the bug in his hand as he went.
"Where are you going now?" Her voice was tight and brittle. Maker help her; she couldn't stop the high-strung sob at the end. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let Mando see them fall. Every time they got too close to allowing the stinging barriers of decades-practiced isolation fall, something would rear up between them– a stupid, meaningless argument, the kid, guilt, anger. The galaxy seemed more than happy to keep them balanced on this precarious ledge between friend and enemy. Now he was storming off, leaving her alone in another new place while the baby screamed was too much. Every emotion she spent decades stomping down was in hyperdrive. She had gone from her quiet, mundanely violent existence in Gor Koresh's dingy empire to this life of bright sensations and new experiences in a matter of heartbeats.
Mando, Din, was at the center of all of it, saving her, connecting her with the child, introducing her to his friends, and making room in his life for her. She could have taken Grogu and disappeared into the stars, went on the hunt for their people with nothing but the Force to guide them. But she couldn't leave him. The magnetic pull of the Mandalorian kept her anchored in place. Stars above, the only time she felt anywhere near complete was when she was with him. But He seemed to want nothing more than to keep her at arms reach, close enough to grab if it suited him or push her further away.
Din stopped a foot from the hatch, hand raised to the control panel to let himself out. He looked over his shoulder and saw the hitch in her shoulders as she tried to soothe the baby in her arms. "I'm going to get some things from the Crest. Snacks, toys…" He sighed, "I'll be right back." Zo wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she turned away from him and began searching through the blankets in the pram for Grogu's ball. The hatch hissed open with the touch of a button, and he disappeared.
He wasn't sure how long he stood in the hold of his ship, clasping and unclasping his hands. The Razor Crest was his sanctuary, a place where he could contemplate the path his life had taken. She might not be the fastest or the most advanced ship to sail the stars, but she was all his. She offered him peace and silence and solitude.
Recently, he realized he didn't appreciate the silence and solitude as much as he used to. The ship was just a ship without Grogu making noise or Zo making a mess.
Zo Mara. Things were easier when she meant nothing more than the credits he could buy fuel and food with.
What had he been thinking all those weeks ago when he agreed to let her stay? What was it about her that he disliked so deeply?
Was it the way she smiled at the kid?
Or the way she smiled at him? The slight curve of her lips like she could read his mind even though he knew damn well he blocked her out.
Din was lost in his thoughts now, grabbing toys at random and stuffing them into a satchel to take back to the room. He climbed the ladder to Zo's little alcove and balled up her ugly brown blanket and spare clothes.
Maybe it was the way she smelled. Like vanilla and oranges and a bit like that beach on Spira, he spent the night after catching that bounty. The beach he wanted to take the kid to and let him run around in the sand and tide pools. He didn't know if Grogu had ever even been to a beach or seen an ocean...maybe Zo hadn't either. It could be a special trip for all of them.
Maybe it was the way she leaned into his touch, her body nearly vibrating under his fingers with all that pent-up energy. Her heart skipping against his palm like a trapped hummingbird, everything in his scanners telling him she wanted him–then she said those two words. She wanted more, more than he could give her.
That wasn't who he was.
Gods, what had she been thinking? She had ruined it, whatever it was about to become with those two simple words. Did she know what that meant to someone like him? Eating in the same room with her had taken every ounce of trust he possessed but kiss her? Take his helmet off for something so– so intimate?
He would have given her anything else besides that. It probably would have done both of them good, get rid of the awkward tension, clear their heads, and refocus on their shared goal– get the kid somewhere safe, get him to the Jedi. A quick, or maybe not too quick, fuck, then get on with it.
Except Zo would still be there once he got his armor back on. She wasn't going anywhere, as long as they still had the kid to look after. He would still have to live with her smiles and her scent lingering in every corner of his sanctuary.
Maybe It was the ship, his ship…the closeness. The Razor Crest felt so massive those first nights he spent alone after leaving the Covert for the first time; now, it was packed tight with her presence. He couldn't escape her no matter how much she promised to stay out of his way.
The stress of taking care of the kid was finally wearing on him, Din decided. He wasn't built to be a buir or a riduur; he wasn't sure if he was even built to be a friend regardless of Zo's proclamation. That's why the two of them were butting heads, spinning their wheels, and getting nowhere but frustrated and angry at each other…It was the weakness the kid found in the solid wall of Beskar around his heart, impenetrable to pain or loss, that she continued to chip away at with each smile, brush of her hand, and crashed box.
He realized he didn't hate much about her at all. Maybe he could let her in, just a little bit.
"Fuck." He muttered to his empty ship.
A startled, rusty protocol droid stood before the hatch to their room when Mando returned from his ship. One of its coppery arms raised as if it had just knocked. "Oh, oh dear me-" the droid squeaked, noticing the towering man barreling down on him. The droid's arm screeched as it stiffly lowered to his side.
The hatch hissed open, and Zo appeared with the baby on her hip. "What do you want?" Mando slid himself between them and the droid, blocking the entrance to their quarters.
"I am D5, personal assistant to Master Ranzar Malk," D5's vocoder hissed and crackled as it spoke. "My Master has requested you join him in the chapel for church service."
After depositing the supplies, the trio followed the droid. Its leg joints, nearly rusted solid, caused it to walk in a screechy, stiff goose-step along the corridor. Grogu's ears twitched with each high-pitched squealing step the droid took. Zo walked quietly beside the Mandalorian, staring at the back of the droid's oxidized green head. "I didn't take Malk for the religious type." She said after a few moments of nothing but the droids' rusty squeals and the clanking of Mando's armor.
"He's not. He's just a dramatic asshole." Mando replied. "Just follow my lead. Be good. Do as I say." He watched her for signs of an argument. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from twitching, and he saw color rise in her cheeks at his words. But she didn't argue.
D5 led them through a sliding door into the 'church,' which in reality was a large, mostly empty docking bay. The soaring ceilings and giant viewport full of slowly rotating stars did remind her of the ancient cathedrals on Dunia. But instead of rows of hardwood pews and robed priestesses, there was a large table surrounded by chairs in the very center of the vast space. At the head of the table sat Ranzar taking stately sips of a dark amber liquor from a crystal snifter.
"Mando, kind of you to join us." He said, setting his glass down.
An R2 unit rolled out of the shadows and refilled its master's drink. Zo decided not only did she not trust Ranzar Malk, but she disliked the man immensely. He reminded her too much of her late employer, Gor Karresh, lording over his criminal underlings. If it were Gor and not this frizzy-haired stranger, Zo would have stood silent and foreboding behind her boss's right shoulder with her blasters on full display, frigid blue eyes hardly blinking as she focused on sensing for deception and potential threats. Now she stood hesitant and unsure. Chills ran up her spine, like dipping her toes in cold water, as conflicting emotions and thoughts swirled around her mind.
Zo sensed waves of apprehension roll off Mando as he stilled beside her. "Sheb ner." He muttered. Three people sat spread along one side of the table: an enormous red Devaronian man tearing into what appeared to be a slab of raw tauntaun, a human male casually sipping a tall mug of foamy beer as the starlight glinted off his bald head, and a lilac skinned Twi'lek woman. She speared a chunk of meat off her plate with a curved knife while winking one dark purple eye at the Mandalorian.
"Hi, Mando." She purred.
"Xi'an," His voice was an irritable hiss through the vocoder.
D5 screeched forward and pulled two chairs from the table across from the strangers. Grogu cooed at the platters of steaming food spread across the table. Once Mando decided they couldn't stall in the doorway any longer, he placed a hand on the small of Zo's back. She jumped at the contact, feeling his fingers press into her back in that same possessive-protective touch he used in the lift. He guided them towards the table and waited, hand still on her back as Zo retrieved Grogu from his pram then sat. He stood a breath longer, scanning the deep shadows in the recesses of the room for a trap before he too took a seat.
"Mando, Xi'an, I know you two didn't end things on the best note…." Ran said, smiling at the Mandalorian's obvious discomfort, "But you two always worked well together. You know each other," He started.
"Inside and out." The woman cut in, pulling one of her headtails over her shoulder and waving it at Mando. Mando shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Fuck it. You two can work your shit out on your own time. On to communion," Ran waved his hands at the food, inviting them to eat. He snapped his fingers, and the R2 unit rolled toward Mando with a bottle of the same amber liquid and a snifter balanced on a platter on its domed head.
Grogu clawed the table impatiently as Zo pulled trays of food towards them, doling out pieces of this and scoops of that onto a plate. The baby pointed towards a mound of fruit on the center of the table, and an orange flew into his waiting claws. Four sets of eyes and a T-shaped visor turned on the Jedi.
"Good job, Grogu!" Zo cheered. Mando gave her thigh a warning squeeze. She nearly jumped out of her seat at the sudden feel of his fingers dangerously high up on her leg. She looked up at the narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, felt their confusion and something else...surprise, a bit of fear, and sensed a threat looming. "What? None of you ever seen magic before?" She plucked Mando's hand off her thigh and smiled at the strangers, letting her eyes linger on Ranzar. He puffed on his cigar, dark eyes unblinking, mind unreadable.
"You need to keep him under control," Mando warned.
Zo tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked into his visor. "He gets impatient when he's hungry." She returned her attention to feeding the baby in her lap, pulling the plate close so he could sample what he wanted. As usual, he wanted to sample all of it.
The Devaronian lost interest in the show and returned to his meal. The Twi'lek woman's eyes never left Mando as she speared another sausage on the end of her knife and used way more tongue than was necessary while she slowly ate it. Zo didn't miss the inquiring glance the bald man threw at Ranzar or the small bob of Ranzar's head in response.
"You should eat too," Mando said softly this time. His hand hovered over her knee before stiffly dropping away.
"What about you?" Zo responded. Grogu happily purred and cooed as he shoveled a fist full of something into his mouth.
Xi'an smirked across the table. "He'll eat in secret like he always does. He doesn't take that helmet off for anything." She over-enunciated the word, waggling her eyebrows as she said it as if everyone in the sector wasn't aware of her meaning.
"This is the way." Xi'an's false poorly mimicked Mando's smokey voice. The woman licked her lips and batted her eyes. Mando sighed. Zo felt a sudden urge to jump across the table and pull the appendages out of the back of her head.
Instead, she picked up a fork, speared a roasted potato, and smiled. "Unless he trusts you. I don't mind keeping my back turned or my eyes closed if it means I get to hear his voice without the vocoder…" she glanced at Mando with a coy smile, "Hell, I'd probably let him blindfold me if he asked nice enough." She trailed off with a hum. Mando whipped his helmet towards her, his back ramrod straight against the chair, his hands resting tensely on top of his thighs. Xi'an narrowed her eyes into angry little slits as Zo fed the baby a spoonful of stew.
"Let's get the introductions over with," Ran announced from the head of the table. "Mayfeld's lead." He pointed at the human man. "I'm too fuckin' old and fat to go out, so any orders he gives, you act like they're comin' from me." Mayfeld smiled big and full of himself. "Burg, enforcement detail." He pointed his cigar at the Devaronian. Burg burped. "Xi'an, intelligence-" Mayfeld snorted into his beer. Xi'an hissed, pulled a curved dagger from the folds of her clothes, and stabbed it into the table a hair from Mayfeld's pinky finger. He didn't so much as flinch as a neolinked-droid remote blaster popped up over his shoulder and aimed at the top of Xi'an's head.
The woman glanced at the blaster. Zo sensed that her thoughts were consumed by murder, blood, mayhem. Zo pulled the baby tighter to her body and wrapped her hand around the hilt of her lightsaber. Mando brushed his fingers across the top of her hand, telling her to hold without saying a word. Burg chewed loudly, smacking and slurping his lips as rivers of greasy fat ran down his cheeks, utterly unbothered by the bloodbath brewing to his right. "Fuckin-a Xi'an, this is a new goddamn table!" Ran yelled, smacking his open palm across the dark wood.
Xi'an threw her head back and laughed, high-pitched and manic, wrenching her dagger free of the table. "Sorry, boss."
"Crazy fuckin' Twi'," Mayfeld muttered, snapping his fingers for the R2 unit to refill his beverage.
The angry, violent storm she sensed disappeared as quickly as it formed. Xi'an started humming a bright, happy tune under her breath. Mayfeld continued drinking. Burg ate. Mando was cold and silent. Zo relaxed her grip on her lightsaber, realizing these people were six shades of crazy. Ran grumbled under his breath, "Where the hell was I?"
"Getting to whatever fucking point you gathered us all here for," Mando answered. He slid the untouched glass of amber liquor to Zo and pointed one gloved finger at it in a silent order for her to drink. She picked up the glass and swirled it under her nose. The scent reminded her of the spicy, masculine scent that permeated the Razor Crest's cockpit.
"You're giving that to her? It's worth 5000 credits a pour." Xi'an leaned forward, knife in hand. Zo knocked back half the drink, sipping be damned. It burned slow and delicious down her throat, warming her from the inside out. It wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it would do for now.
"Ranzar'll give me more. He just got a shipment in." Mando replied. He hadn't had this much fun in a while; hearing and seeing Zo parry one-ups with Xi'an was a treat he was unaccustomed to. Xi'an was a top-notch mercenary, cold and calculating, completely fearless. She had been fun for a while, especially between the sheets until she wasn't until innocent bystanders became her target practice.
Ran smirked, "Last but not least, Mando. He's been kind enough to supply our ghost and the extra muscle."
"What's the fucking job, Malk?" Mando sat forward, glaring at the frizzy-haired man. Or at least Zo imagined he was glaring under the layers of beskar and glass.
Ranzar leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on the swell of his bulbous stomach. "New Republic marshals nabbed Qin with a quantum of black market coaxium." Mando's helmet dropped as he let out an angry string of Mando'an curses. Heat with the New Republic was not the kind of heat they needed. "I've got intel he's being detained on the Bothan-5 correctional transport. We're breakin' him out tomorrow at 1900 standard time before they make their final jump to a work camp. Any questions?"
Mayfeld nodded, "Yeah. I got two. Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck is that thing?" He pointed at Zo and Grogu.
"They are none of your concern," Mando answered.
Mayfeld smirked, "We'll see about that."
Mando put a hand on the back of Zo's chair, meaning to end this little meaning and get them safely sequestered back in their room. "I've got a few questions," Zo said, immediately throwing a wrench in his exit plan.
"Zo-" Mando warned.
She fed the baby a spoonful of purple potato salad and ignored the bounty hunter. "How exactly do you moon jockeys plan on breaking into a max security New Republic prison cruiser?"
"You didn't get a job assignment; therefore, it's none of your concern," Xi'an answered.
Zo nodded, "Ah, I see. And the security? How are you getting past that?"
Xi'an leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table with yet another knife twirling between her graceful fingers. "New Republic prison ships are unmanned." She said, pointing the knife at Zo.
Zo's mouth twitched, "Unmanned by organics."
"Droids?" Mando's voice was sharp enough to cut through the growing tension in the room.
"Sentry Droids," Zo nodded, turning her attention to him, sensing his discomfort. "N3 or above...There's also the issue with the rotating security field. Without the docking codes, you'll have milliseconds to jam their com and drop through; otherwise, you'll have a squadron of X-Wings up your ass...you're a good pilot Mando, but there's no karking way you can do it." She looked across the table to Ranzar. "Or any human pilot, for that matter."
"Hey, why the hell ain't she in charge of intelligence?" Mayfeld quipped.
Xi'an hissed, "Why the fuck are we listening to Mando's cockwarmer?"
"I don't recall cockwarming in the job duties we discussed." Zo said, finishing the whiskey. "But I'm always open for renegotiations." Mando's shoulders shook with a quick, surprised laugh. Xi'an crossed her arms and scowled across the table.
D5's squealing joints signaled his return to the hangar. He escorted a human-sized droid, dark black metal with a mantis-shaped head. This droid's joints did not squeak as it moved. It made nearly no sound at all except for the faint whirring of its oversized neural processors. "Zero! Right on time as usual," Ran raised his glass in salute to the droid.
"Of course, I'm on time. My internal time tables are set to the millisecond and automatically adjust for changes in gravitational rotation." The droid replied sharply. "That means, for the organics in the room, I am always on time...I'm also smarter than all of you." He added like he ended all his conversations with this fact.
"Everyone meet, Zero. Our pilot," Ran said with a tight grin.
"No fucking way, Ranzar. No one flies the Crest but me." Mando slammed his fist into the table, making Zo and Grogu jump.
"This is the job, Mando. I got a pilot. I need a ship. And you just so happen to have a ship off both Imperial and New Republic radar. " Ranzar said, blowing rings of smoke across the table.
"If you don't mind, Ranzar, I'll dock for charging now. I need at least eighteen hours to charge my processors fully." Zero didn't wait for Ran to give his blessing before he walked away from the table and docked himself into a wall port.
"I didn't agree to this," Mando muttered sullenly.
Ran shrugged, "This is the job, Mando. You're lucky I'm giving you another chance with how badly you fucking botched things with Jox."
"You're being deceitful." Zo turned to Ranzar with a sigh. "You were never going to give him the information we came for without this job."
"You callin' me a liar?"
Zo pushed the now empty plate away and placed Grogu against her shoulder. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm calling you." She said, patting the baby's back until he let out a Wookiee-sized burp.
Xi'an hissed, "You let this bitch speak for you? You have gone soft. The Mando I knew would gag her and spank her for speaking out of turn."
"Who says I won't?" Mando fixed his visor on Zo's profile.
"Only if you promise to pull my hair while you do it." Zo smiled. Mando crossed his arms over his chest and let her know by the tilt of his helmet that she was toeing the line. "Perhaps we should discuss the finer details of this operation in private. Before we make a decision." She said.
"Do we have a deal, Mando? Or are you gonna let the babysitter call the shots?"
Mando sighed, "We have a deal."