CHAPTER VI:

After leaving Kuiil and piloting the now fully-functioning Razor Crest out of Arvala-7's atmosphere, the ship's adult occupants wandered bleary-eyed into the cargo hold. Mando tethered the child's bassinet just outside their quarters, taking a brief second to ensure he was still sleeping. Confirming the little green monster was indeed unconscious, Din hobbled into the cramped sleeping space. He could hear the sad excuse of a shower running as Zakia cleaned her hair and skin, and took the opportunity to remove his helmet.

Nearly four whole days underneath his armor had left Din with matted hair and skin caked in dried sweat and grime. He reeked of mudhorn no matter how many times he got rained on, and his armor was a lost cause completely. Its integrity was shattered. Reaching up a hand, he rubbed at his chin and grimaced. Growing facial hair had never been a talent, and the knowledge it was there made his skin itch. He supposed it was time to shave when Zakia was finished. His body screamed for sleep, but there was no way he was getting into bed covered in such filth.

Din replaced his helmet when the shower switched off, wishing that he didn't have to. He considered the real implications of Zakia knowing his face every day. Would the Mandalorians find out? Come for him if he tried to replace it? Though Mando held too much respect for the Creed to break it, he had found loopholes to allow the closeness he shared with Zakia. It was the farthest thing from a conventional relationship, but undressing and sleeping in a pitch-black bunk was how they made do. Mando couldn't possibly count the hours Zakia had spent stroking fingers across his cheekbones and face, mapping it out in her mind. She asked him what color hair he had sometimes, and it burned him to leave it a mystery.

He wanted her to see him.

Zakia was more than ready for a breakthrough in their relationship- whatever occured between her and their Ugnaught friend had done wonders. Zakia was opening up to him again. It wasn't as if they had been totally closed off, but as she'd said: things were... Different. Different since the day he carried her beaten body away from the flustered, repeatedly-apologizing healer on Felucia. Zakia had been unable to walk that day. Her blank stare and mute gestures were permanently branded into Mando's brain, and he dwelled on the thought.

"Sir, she is severely wounded."

Din paced outside a small stone door, boots wearing a path into the grass outside. A red-headed healer stood in front of him, wringing her hands together nervously.

"She lost a child!" It had been a long time since Din had used such a tone, but his heart was beating out of his chest. Fear clawed at all five senses, and something else was creeping up his gullet. Something foreign and protective, wailing to be let out.

"I'm very sorry, Sir." The healer was quivering slightly, but stood her ground.

An impressive feat, considering the Mandalorian who was armed to the teeth and twice her height.

"Let me see her." Manda reached for the door handle, and the healer nodded.

"Positives only. Her body is wounded, but her mind is in ribbons. Losing an unborn child can be incredibly difficult."

Din nodded, twisting the doorknob and nudging his way inside. The room was a soft peach color, with sheer drapes and a large bed against the center of one wall. There was a single figure curled up on the mattress.

Zakia laid on top of the covers, knees pulled into her chest and arms holding them tightly. She was ungodly still, and Mando approached slowly.

"Zak?" He murmured softly. Mando approached the bed, reaching one hand out to turn her onto her back.

She had been dressed in a light purple gown, loose-fitting and comfortable. Mando could feel the bandages hidden beneath the fabric, and a pang of guilt hit him in the guts. Bruises littered her arms, but Mando was more concerned about her face. Zakia was fairly tan aside from her scar and smattering of freckles, but the skin Din saw was nothing of the like.

Her face was pale and her skin was papery, lacking all of its normal flush. The icy blue of her eyes was dull, surrounded by red arteries and washed out by tears. One socket was bordered with the worst black eye he had ever seen. The straight line of her nose had been broken, reset by the healer who had bandaged it well but was unable to hide the yellowing of skin around it.

"Din." Zakia's voice almost broke him.

Softer than when she had told him she was pregnant, and more damaged than when the Wookiee had scarred her.

"I'm here." He said, though his voice was barely there. The Mandalorian wasn't even sure his modulator had picked up on the sound, but Zakia's slight head tilt indicated she had.

"Did you get him?" The question managed to catch him off guard. Mando's heart skipped a beat, having expected to face the reality of their lost child as opposed to their intended bounty.

"He's dead." Din swallowed. "All of them."

Zakia dipped her head as best she could. "Good."

Working up the courage, the Mandalorian sat on the edge of her bed and reached a hand to hold hers. "Zakia… the healer told me- she explained to me-"

"Don't." Zakia's fingers tightened around hers, and water dripped from her eyes. "Please. I can't- Din…"

Her voice cracked as she uttered his name. Din pushed himself onto the bed further, encircling her within his arms carefully. His armor was uncomfortable beneath his arm, and the helmet was plain inconvenient, but nothing phased him except the shaking woman in his arms. Din collected her so he was on his side and Zakia was facing him. She buried her face into his cowl and her hands wrapped around the edges of his chestplate, gripping tightly onto the only thing she had left.

"Everything okay?"

The Mandalorian jumped, whirling towards the refresher door. Zakia stood in the threshold, damp hair hanging about her shoulders and curling up at the ends. She had changed from her old clothes into a pair of sleeping shorts and one of his long sleeves made for the underside of his armor.

"Yeah." Din replied, "Just tired. Thinking."

Zakia stepped from the doorway towards him, icy eyes drilling holes through his visor. "What about?"

"What did you and the Ugnaught talk about?" Din asked. It wasn't exactly what he'd been pondering, but he knew it was related. The Mandalorian began methodically removing his armor as he awaited an answer.

Zakia sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth despite it already being swollen from the repetitive motion. "He asked me why the child had such an effect on me. And I told him."

A vambrace was set carefully on the shelves made for his armor, followed by a pauldron of the same side. "But that's not all."

Zakia sighed. "It wasn't even that intimate of a conversation. I think he just made me realize the real reason I've been…" She trailed off, a nervous hand coming to tug at her hair, "...different."

Mando slowed in his effort to remove his cuisses and looked up. "Which is?"

"I'm scared." Zakia's arms folded over her chest is an awkward sort of self-embrace. "Of being alone. Of losing something else important to me. I think I've known it the whole time, but wrote it off as impossible. Everything that's happened, with the Child and the mudhorn, it just reminded me that losing something- losing you- isn't impossible."

Din set the last of his armor to the side and stepped towards Zakia. She was shorter than normal without her boots on. Hair wet and legs bared, she looked as vulnerable as he could remember.

"You are not going to lose me." Din's hand clasped the juncture of her shoulder and neck, squeezing gently. "Never."

Zakia sniffled, reaching one hand up to cover his. Her eyes leaked tears, and she gripped his fingers tightly. "I don't think you understand how much I need you."

Din was almost completely sure she underestimated his reliance on her at this point. "I think I do." He lowered his voice. "I love you."

Now she was all-out crying, though her glacial orbs were filled with happiness.

"I love you too." She smiled, a flash of white against her red face. "Now go take a shower so I can lay down with you." Zakia managed through her sniffling. "You smell like shit."

And everything was alright.

They slept for a long time.

Three-quarters of the way to Nevarro, and all the way through Greef Karga's transmission that instructed Mando to take the Child directly to the Client. A glance back at the bassinet confirmed said asset was still there. The waking of the Child was what ended Din and Zakia's slumber, and it only relaxed when the bassinet was moved into the cockpit. Mando tethered it to the copilot seat, while Zakia watched from a reasonable distance. Though her hesitancy about coming in contact with the child had faded, she still avoided it as much as she could.

The aforementioned blonde leaned against the dashboard, watching Din pilot the ship through space. "This is unfair."

Din eyeballed the mercenary beside him. "It's only until Nevarro."

The stars rushed passed them outside, and Zakia watched the balls of gas streak by. "I'm gonna go down and find something to do."

The Mandalorian was motionless up until the point where she started walking. His gloved hand snapped up to take ahold of her waist. Zakia startled and an undignified squawk escaped her.

"Mando!" She chastised, though a giggle fought its way out. He tugged her down until she sat sideways on his lap. Zakia's thighs were warm on his, and Din shifted to keep comfortable.

"The kid is in your spot." Din said. "I thought I'd share."

"Well," Zakia smirked and ran a hand down his chest, fingers finding their way between the waistband of his trousers and his tunic. She stopped there, turning back to his helmet. "I guess I can handle that."

The Mandalorian lifted her easily, settling her so her thighs were on either side of his body. His hands ran up her legs and followed the curves of her body. The leather of his gloves was cool when it slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts and gripped the round flesh of her ass. Zakia grinned at the enthusiasm and let her hand travel further down.

It wasn't until her mouth was making contact with Din's neck that he noticed the presence next to them. He jerked, and Zakia clambered off his lap out of pure instinct. They both watched the Child haul itself onto the dashboard, holding the ball from the top of the acceleration lever. It attempted to slip the item into its mouth, and Din finally regained his bearings enough to interfere.

"It's not a toy." He took the ball away and set it near the lever. The Mandalorian lifted the child by the heavy robe to replace him in the bassinet and swivel back towards Zakia. The Child cooed at both of them and blinked with its big doe eyes. Zakia raised a single brow and exhaled heavily.

"Mood killer."

The Mandalorian acknowledged her words with a nod, but there was no venom behind them. He didn't miss the way her eyes softened whenever they landed on the green infant.

"I'll take him to the bazaar." Mando tapped idly at the Navicomputer. "And we can leave right away."

Zakia leaned against the dash and crossed her legs at the ankle. "Do you mind if we get another job right away?"

Din was surprised to hear her ask, but shrugged. "Don't see why not. You can talk to Karga while I visit the client."

They stuck to their plan upon arriving on Nevarro, Mando departing just before Zakia to turn in the Child. He had given her several credit chips, telling her to have some fun while she was out. Zakia knew he could sense her emotions, and he tried in the only way he knew to make her feel better in his absence. She watched them leave from the cockpit, her stomach twisting itself into knots as she thought about the Imps and what their plans were for the baby.

The target.

She forced her brain to use the correct word. It was against Guild code to question their purpose anyway, and Zakia kept the rule trapped within the confines of her skull. It took her less time to dress than normal, and she descended the Crest's hatch and headed into the bazaar.

The difference in demeanor was apparent, and Zakia understood just how quickly word spread. Bounty hunters stared in her direction, the normal hatred multiplied by a hundred. Her hands dangled over her blasters, but Zakia managed to ignore most of the intimidation and continue walking. She stopped at a few booths to examine trinkets of all shapes and sizes until the tavern was no longer avoidable.

Zakia had thought the hunters in the bazaar would be the worst of it, but she was proven wrong as soon as she entered. The noise quieted, and the majority of people watched her enter. She scowled back, not at all hesitant to return the hostility. Fairly certain they were less inclined to approach her due to her relationship with the Mandalorian, she pressed on. Greef Karga was sipping spotchka at his normal table, and smiled when she approached.

"Zakia! A sight for sore eyes, you are." They shook hands briefly, and Zakia sat across from him. Karga motioned for the bar to bring another drink, and the alien behind the counter set about his request.

"Usually am." Zakia snarked, accepting the glass of spotchka delivered by a strange reptilian creature she hadn't had the pleasure of seeing before.

Karga chuckled at her attitude. "I see the mission hasn't changed you much. Where is Mando, anyway?"

Zakia shrugged. "He was delivering the asset to the Client. After that, my guess would be refueling and rationing. We had a run in with a clan of Jawas and I'm fairly certain they ate most of the food I'd just bought."

"Well I'm glad to hear it went well. But now's your chance to celebrate!" Greef leaned in, lowering his voice. "You know they all hate you both because you got it?"

A snort came from the blonde, and she kneaded her scarred cheek. "They already did. This won't change anything."

"More than normal, I mean. All of that reward- the beskar. They all wished for it. Hell, I got a commission for recommending Mando." Karga showed her the ingot of beskar hidden beneath his outer robe.

"Speaking of," Zakia started, leaning back in her booth and lifting her feet to rest on the table, "Why wasn't I included in that deal? You know Mando and I are partners."

"Oh, I know. And I know what he would do to me if some harm were to come upon you. And with your past, I didn't think you'd want to be on their radar. I assume your partner told you the party which is funding the mission?" Karga kept his voice low, pausing anytime a patron drifted too close to their table.

"He told me they were remnants of the Empire." Zakia confirmed. "But my past-"

"You've accepted a lot of bounties from Republic sources, have you not? I hear you're pretty good with a sniper rifle when it comes to emptying out old Imperial hideouts as well- even if you may not have known."

Zakia frowned. "Imperial hideouts? What are you talking about?"

Greef sighed. "I expect you to rein him in when your Mandalorian tries to kill me."

"Consider him managed. What are you talking about, Greef?"

"Do you recall accepting a job from a young woman on Coruscant?" Karga questioned.

Zakia blew a breath out, errant strands of hair swaying in front of her face. "I've accepted a lot of jobs from a lot of people, in a lot of places."

"This was before Mando. When you used to come here and fight other hunters for pucks." Greef supplied the extra information, and Zakia was thrown back to a time far before the present.

"Okay. Coruscant… what was the job?"

"There was no bounty to be brought back. Everyone was to be killed. Reward was given in the form of Galactic Credits. A lot of them. Enough to buy a new space cruiser." Karga raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and Zakia felt her stomach drop.

"Wait, wait, wait. That was a hit? A political hit?" Zakia scratched her head, until freezing in her seat. Her icy eyes landed on Karga. "How do you know this?"

Of course she remembered the job, after he supplied the time frame and credits. She had been looking for work, letting the mechanics of Coruscant fix her beat-up cruiser. It was in a small Twi'lek brothel-turned-restaurant that the young woman had approached her. She seemed meek and scared, but that was normal when someone wanted to remain anonymous from their hired mercenary. They paid someone else to relay the message.

"The Client who is searching for the child asked me if I knew of any mercenaries capable of the job. Mando was my first thought, but I checked the logs, and he was on assignment for me. As well as all other snipers who I knew could have made six headshots at almost eight-hundred meters without one miss." Karga waved a hand in her direction. "And that left you."

Zakia swallowed. Rifles had always been her strong suit. Sniping was an art that demanded focus and precision, and before her injury at the hands of the Wookiee, she had been very good. Her eyes weren't as good as they had been, and she rarely had the chance to get her hands on a good rifle. Mando's Amban disruptor was far from her weapon of choice.

"So the Empire has a price on my head?" She managed around a mouthful of spotchka, secretly wishing the alcohol would take effect faster.

"Not that I was told." Karga tipped his head to the side. "Sounded much more like they were interested in your skill set."

"You mentioned my name?"

Karga snorted into his glass. "I'm not suicidal! They didn't offer a reward, and the Mandalorian you keep company with scares me far more than I'd like to admit. It wouldn't be worth it to put you in danger, or on the Empire's radar."

"So you're just gonna..." Zakia waved her hand around in a vague gesture, "...keep it to yourself?"

"Unless it becomes necessary that I make it available, yes."

Zakia's feet swept from the table, and she stomped them back onto the tavern floor. The sound drew a few wandering eyes, but her snarl sent them packing. "Are you blackmailing me, Karga?"

"Of course not. Just keep it in mind that someone else may know."

Zakia glared, but the words circling her brain faded when a short bounty hunter, colloquially known to Zakia and many more as 'Saucer Head', made his way to their table. He began speaking Huttese to Karga, of which Zakia only picked up a few words. It sounded like a bad attempt to justify a failed hunt.

"You had your shot, dust breather, but you failed. No pucks for you. Now get outta here." Karga barked at him. Zakia chuckled, watching the exchange with muted interest. It was always fun to watch the newbies. Saucer Head spoke back, to which the blonde leaned forward and prodded his arm.

"Hi. Yeah, down here. Why don't you leave the hunting to the professionals, huh?" Zakia poked fun at the man- as she did best- and smirked as he sulked away. Saucer Head grumbled as he stomped towards the far door.

"We're not going to get any new Guild members if you chase them away, Zakia." Karga scolded, though the humor in his tone said otherwise.

"Yeah, yeah," Zakia was faintly aware of the front door opening, but didn't turn right away. "How are they supposed to be bounty hunters without a thick skin?"

Greef didn't answer her, too busy looking over her shoulder. She took that moment to realize the tavern had in fact gone quiet, and turned. An unfamiliar flash of silver caught her eyes, and she turned back to Karga with eyebrows furrowed. The Guild agent only chuckled as she did a double take, arctic eyes lighting up as she recognized the helmet and confident swagger.

A Mandalorian- though vastly more fresh-looking than hers had been that morning- approached the table.

Zakia pointed up at him, eyes still on Karga. "Is this my Mandalorian? He looks a lot… shinier than he did earlier."

The beskar gleamed in the tavern's dim lights, and Zakia bit her lip, winking up at Mando. Karga frowned at the exchange, but quickly changed his expression.

"Mando!" He motioned at the patrons surrounding them, who were all still quiet. "They all hate you, Mando. Because you're a legend!"

Din was motionless, standing like a statue above their table. "How many of them had tracking fobs?"

The extra fobs had slipped Zakia's mind. So much had happened since they were ambushed in the canyon on Arvala-7 that the thought hadn't occurred to her. Greef looked around, and his shoulders rose in a shrug.

"All of them. All of them! But not one of them closed the deal. Only you two! And with it," Karga smiled, "The richest reward this parsec has ever seen."

Zakia finished her glass, doing her best to remove the thought of what exactly their bounty had been. A child. Her mind screamed, but her face betrayed nothing.

"Please, sit, my friend." Greef nodded to the spot beside Zakia, and she slid over in the booth to allow Mando room to sit. Her eyes lingered on the new armor covering his chest and arms, tongue tracing her teeth as she took in his figure. The cuirass was perfectly fit for him, and both pauldrons matched. His helmet appeared freshly cleaned, and Zakia took it as a sign he had visited the covert.

With his rifle resting beside him, Din sidled into the booth beside Zakia. His hand found her thigh beneath the table, and she took it he had noticed the expression on her face while admiring the beskar. She quirked a corner of her mouth, expecting him to remove the hand shortly thereafter. They settled at the table, and Din surprised Zakia by leaving his hand on her leg. Out of Karga's sight, but still more affectionate than he had ever been in public.

"They're all weighing the beskar in their minds." Greef chuckled at the patrons. "But not me. No. I, for one, celebrate your success. As I told your lovely partner, it is my success as well."

"Oh, I've been promoted to lovely. Normally I'm annoying." Zakia remarked, using a single finger to trace the rim of her empty glass.

"Far from it." Karga's change in attitude at Mando's appearance was tangible, and the blonde narrowed her eyes. "Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?"