Later that night…

Jay sat across from Vhetin in Void's small mess hall – the center of the ship – and cupped a mug of caf between her hands as she watched her partner bandage his wounded and bleeding arm. He winced as he cinched the first layer of bandages tight, then fastened them with a strip of adhesive. Blood quickly began seeping through the bandages, a few tiny droplets snaking down his arm like raindrops against a transparisteel viewport.

The wound was certainly a nasty one. The merc fighter had scored a deep vertical hit down the Mandalorian's left bicep and the pulsating blade of the vibrosword had torn his arm open all the way down to the muscle. Vhetin should have been applying stitches, but he'd said he didn't currently have a med kit onboard with those kinds of tools. So he was bandaging his wound tight, keeping the blood flow in check till he could get it properly dressed. When pressed as to when this would be, he had only grunted, "I heal fast."

She took a sip of caf and narrowed her eyes at the bounty hunter. He, as usual, ignored her.

"Supersoldier," she suddenly said, staring at the face of his expressionless T-visored battle helmet.

He glanced up and tipped his head to the side, confused. "What?"

"You are a supersoldier, aren't you? I've heard of programs in the Empire that are working on it. Something about cloning tech and gene therapy."

He sighed and turned back to his wound with a shake of his head. "I already told you, no. Keep guessing."

"A Jedi?"

"Kriff no."

"You can't be a Sith," she said disbelievingly.

Again, he shook his head, pulling out another long strip of bandages to cover the already-bloody first layer.

"Then what?"

"I can't use the Force, if that's what you're getting at," he said. "And I am not a supersoldier."

"Well you sure aren't normal, that's for sure. The way you were fighting out there... it was incredible."

"Practiced."

"What?"

"I'm practiced," he explained. He finally looked up again and met her gaze with his hidden, helmeted one. "I've perfected what I do until it's almost an art form. Fighting comes as naturally to me as breathing. That's how I'm so talented with my pike."

He turned back to his bandages with a mutter of, "Sith my shebs."

She took another sip of her beverage and leaned forward, placing her arms on the tabletop in front of her. The answer was only really half-helpful. That wasn't the whole story.

"Okay, then," she said, unable to stop a hint of triumph from slipping into her voice. "Answer me this, then: how were you able to jump so high? You kicked that merc in the face with both feet without a running start. If you're not a supersoldier or Force-user, how can you do that?"

"That's for me to know," he said, a small hint of humor in his tone now, "and you not to. Professional secrets and all that."

She scoffed in mock annoyance and shook her head. "You know, you may think your mysterious attitude is somehow an irresistible turn-on, but it's really just annoying. You're not going to net any fems with that behavior."

He stopped bandaging his arm. When he spoke, his voice was very serious.

"I consider myself to be a lot of things," he said. "A playboy is not one of them."

"Sorry." She quickly backed down. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she'd struck a nerve. "Touchy subject?"

"You could say that," he said, turning back to his bandages.

They sat in silence for some time, Jay sipping at her caf, Vhetin continuing to tend to his wounded arm. Then she frowned and blurted out, "Why?"

He looked up at her, tipping his helmet questioningly to one side. She blushed, inwardly cursing her mouth for once again getting ahead of her brain. Before he could glare at her for too long, she clarified, "Why is it a touchy subject?"

"I like to keep my professional and private lives separate," he said. "Makes things easier that way. When I'm out there I'm out there to hunt, not to net fems as you put it. To insinuate anything otherwise is an insult I don't take lightly."

"But that's not true. I mean, Aramis told me-"

She suddenly stopped, realizing she had once again overstepped her bounds. She was still the rookie here, and it wasn't her place to pry into the motivations or the private life of her partner. She quickly looked down at the caf mug in her hands, intently studying the suddenly fascinating array of tiny air bubbles in the chestnut brown liquid.

Vhetin didn't seem like the kind who liked to spill his heart out to others, even after such a hectic fight. Besides, her info was based on a rumor. If there was any quicker way to offend him, she wasn't sure what it was.

Great job, Jay, she thought with a grimace. Once again, you let your mouth do all the thinking while your brain takes the backseat. It's a wonder he keeps you around at all.

But her partner didn't seem angry. He actually sounded a little amused as he sat back in his chair and set aside the bandages. "You've been listening to Oyu'baat gossip, haven't you?"

She hesitated, then nodded sheepishly. The bubbles in her caf were still intensely interesting.

"All right then, what did Aramis tell you? It better not be about that time on Polis Massa, or I'm going to rip off his-"

She shook her head. "It was nothing specific. He just told me that... well, that you had some kind of relationship with Brianna. Is that true?"

"I…. guess so. Yeah."

"What do you mean?"

He fastened the adhesive on the last layer of bandages and sighed. "I can tell I'm not going to be able to leave without giving you an answer."

"Not really," she said. "I'm a naturally curious person."

"Fancy way of saying you're nosy."

"I don't think you want to start name-calling, Vhetin." She felt a little braver now. Her partner was obviously open to (finally) answering some questions. She wasn't treading on glass any more. "I have a few choice ones for you that I've been dying to let loose."

"All right," he relented. "If you really want to hear about it..."

He rested his folded arms on the tabletop in front of him and stared at the flat surface distractedly for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and began, "Brianna and I first met about seven years ago. Back then, she was working aboard the Blood Lily, a cargo freighter hauling supply runs for MandalMotors. She got pretty close with Rame and Mia after a while, until she settled down and started a life for herself on Mandalore. And then I came along.

"I was..." he hesitated, and she couldn't miss the way his hands suddenly clenched into fists. "Well let's just say I was pretty messed up at that time, still getting over some serious problems that had cropped up. She helped me out, helped me get through the days without killing myself. After a few years, I decided to adopt the Mandalorian way of life and she decided to become a bounty hunter. She helped me through that tough transition, too. Things got a little cozy, then it just developed into... more."

"You sound uncomfortable about that," she observed.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I'm not exactly the kind of guy you want to get all cozy with. I'm not a romantic type. I have… trouble returning those feelings."

Because you're so good at suppressing them? she wondered. But she didn't dare say that out loud. So she just brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and asked, "So what now? You're still together?"

He nodded. "We keep going together to the best of our ability, but these past few months have been a little strained. We're usually offworld hunting contracts and when we finally get some time alone… well, we don't get along as well as we used to. I think we're both starting to wake up a little and realize that we aren't exactly right for each other."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your problem."

"I still asked about it all the same. I'm sorry to pry into your personal life."

He shrugged again. "It's hardly a secret. You could get a more detailed version from Aramis, though it'll probably cost you a few drinks."

He stood from the table and walked past her, moving toward the door, lost in his own thoughts. She heard the door hiss open behind her. The conversation was clearly over and her partner was done volunteering information to her.

She stared at the spot he had left, thinking hard. Was this what awaited her if she continued her life as a bounty hunter? Would her conscience just waste away, leaving her with nothing but empty emotions and ash where her heart should be? She barely knew anything about Vhetin, and while she was beginning to feel some small affection for the man, she had already decided she didn't want to become like him; cold, solitary, and unable or unwilling to do anything about it.

But was he really that bad? He'd devoted his life to administering justice to an unjust galaxy, had rescued her from certain death, and had given back to her everything she could ever have hoped for. Brianna had seen something in him, something she apparently still saw in him to this day. What was it that she and Rame knew that Jay was still missing?

Lingering in the doorway, Vhetin paused and half-turned back to her. He spoke quietly and Jay started, shaken from her thoughts. "You handled yourself well out there today," the Mandalorian said. "I'm proud of the progress you've made. And you should be too."

She paused for a moment, then thanked him and turned back to her mug of caf, hardly believing what she'd just heard. A real compliment? From him? She smiled a little as she heard his boots thumping away against the floor, fading as he headed back toward the cockpit.

Maybe he wasn't such a square after all.