29 BBY - Denon

"That sounds awful," Zam said with earnest sympathy. She tied the knot on the last stitch into Cye's side. "And it happens every time?"

The clawdite bounty hunter was nothing like Cye had expected. Most were amoral, ruthless, and only cared about the credits the next job would bring. Zam was all of those things, but she was also- interesting. Of course she was all about the job, looking after Cye was the job . But she had a disarming charm and relaxed attitude that was unique in the profession. Cye found herself enjoying the woman's company.

"Ever since I can remember. I stay away from cockpits and viewports whenever I'm in space. It's safer that way, for everyone." The bounty hunter was beyond curious about the events that brought her here, and Cye found it easy to talk to Zam about her hyperspace vertigo and even her doomed relationship with Hondo Ohnaka.

"You're very brave then. I don't know if I would have been able to put myself through that on purpose."

"It was either that or starve over weeks of sub-light travel without provisions," Cye replied with a grunt as she sat up. She twisted to view the stitched wound, wrinkling her nose against the uncomfortable tug of her skin stretching over her ribs. Every tie was neatly done and evenly spaced. It would heal into a smooth scar. She nodded in satisfaction at the woman's handiwork. "A med droid couldn't do better. Thank you."

"Just another service I'm happy to provide," Zam replied with a wink and sealed a bacta patch over her work. "For the right price."

"I hope you get your money's worth."

"Jango's credits are always welcome. This is the easiest job yet." Zam stepped back, her eyes glittering with mischief as she smirked. "But I would have rescued you from Corellia for free." Cye frowned, her eyes squinting as she attempted to judge Zam's meaning. Is she flirting with me? That only elicited a round of laughter from the woman. "That face! Just like your brother."

"What face?"

"Oh come on." Zam put her hand on Cye's shoulder and shook her head with a knowing smile. "You have that same 'do I have to kill this person' scowl as Jango. You know, I didn't believe him when he told me the job was watching over his sister. I honestly still didn't believe him until just now."

Cye let out a huff of amusement. She wasn't about to correct her. Then again, they'd grown up together, fought together; killed together, so maybe there were more similarities than differences between her and Jango. Zam didn't need to know that family is more than blood to Mandalorians. This woman was fearless with her opinions. She had an adventurous spirit that pulled at Cye's protective emotional shell. She seemed to smother the aching loss Cye felt by her mere presence. The edge of Cye's mouth curled up.

"That's pretty much his default expression for everything."

Zam grinned back. "We'll keep that just between us girls, yeah?"

"That works for me." Cye tried to force a smile but it came across as more of a pained smirk.

"Good." Zam held out her hand to help Cye stand. "Come on, let's clean you up and get you some clothes. There's no way in hell I'm going to let you back into that filthy maintenance jumpsuit."

"It wasn't mine anyway," Cye said. Zam was stronger than she looked, yet soft to touch. She didn't have a single callus on her hand. Perhaps it had to do with her clawdite physiology. "But I don't have anything else. Even my kute is cut up."

"Not to mention covered in puke. I'm sure I have a few things that will fit you." She didn't let go of Cye's hand. Instead she pulled her along with a gentle yet persistent grip. "I'm not always this petite," Zam said with a flirtatious grin and conspiratorial eyebrow. "I'm not always a woman either." Cye's mouth hung open, prompting laughter from the other bounty hunter. Did she treat Jango this way too? Maybe that's why he kept her at arm's length. Zam certainly knew how to get a reaction from her.

She led Cye to the 'fresher, pulling out a couple towels and hooking them by the shower. There was enough room for two, Cye thought in passing as she glanced back at Zam who stood by watching her as Cye began to peel out of the torn undersuit. "I can take it from here. Thanks."

"Are you sure? I don't mind." Zam raised a delicate eyebrow. "I'm happy to help. Besides, I don't need you slipping. Jango would-"

"I'll be fine," Cye cut her off, trying to keep the creeping annoyance from her tone. She wasn't some ik'aad to be coddled. "I appreciate your, uh, enthusiasm for the job." She wasn't sure what else to call it. "But I'll manage."

"Suit yourself," Zam replied. There was a flash of disappointment in her eyes, but she covered it up with a smile. "Shout if you need anything." With that she turned on her heel and strode out of the 'fresher. Cye thought she heard the woman mumble something about stubborn Fetts, but she wasn't going to draw attention to it.

Cye tossed her ruined kute to the floor and turned on the hot water. She stopped at the mirror, inspecting herself for any other injuries before the glass fogged up. Other than the laceration across her ribs there were only superficial bruises. They'd disappear in a few days. Her uj'ayl brown eyes were redrimmed and bloodshot. Her normally tawny olive complexion was a pale, blotchy gold. She looked about as well as she felt, like hell. She ran her hand down her right cheek, her fingertips finding the faded lines of the scar that spread like a web between her temple and jaw. She wondered what the woman in the other room saw when she looked at Cye, and that led her thoughts back to Hondo. Her reflection fogged away in the mist so she didn't have to see the tears that threatened to form once again.

Near-scalding water beat against her shoulders as she stood under the flow. She supported herself with one arm leaning heavily against the cold tile wall as the heat melted the stiffness and stress she'd put her body through to get there. Cye had no desire to move, not until she could control the ache slowly crushing her chest and the roiling anger building behind her eyes. She let her mind wander instead, thinking and rethinking every good memory, every argument, and every job trying to pinpoint the moment that things fell apart.

Had Hondo known something when he'd told her he didn't want to take the job to steal the plans? She didn't think so. Hondo always hated infiltration jobs. He always said they were too much effort for too little reward. Cye preferred being able to blend in, get what she came for, and leave without a trace. The weequay pirate preferred being the face, smuggling and selling weapons, contraband, and spice. Cye hated negotiating prices and dealing with the scum of the galaxy while Hondo reveled in it. It was what made them such a good team.

Hondo's betrayal completely blindsided her. There wasn't anything she could think of that would have told her the end was near. Either his decision was made on a whim or she'd misread everything about their relationship. Neither option made her feel any better.

"Damn you, H," Cye spat as she hit the wall with her fist. Pain flared down her fingers as her knuckles popped. She shook her hand out and sighed before reaching for the soap. No matter what way she turned it over she'd let her feelings cloud her judgement. There was no one she could blame but herself.

Mando'a Translations

Kute - underwear, bodysuit, something worn under armor

Ik'aad - baby, child under 3

Uj'ayl - thick, spiced syrup used in cooking