Chapter Seven. Well, it had to happen sooner or later.
Disclaimer: I'm a college student, not George Lucas.
Zara was wary and alert, so she wasn't surprised when a slim blue figure materialized out of nowhere and crashed into her, sobbing wildly. "You've got to help me!" Mission Vao bawled, her face buried in Zara's shoulder.
Zara rubbed the girl's back, carefully avoiding touching the lekku. "Alright, I'll do my best." She soothed. "What do you need help with? You're going to have to calm down so you can tell me."
Mission shuddered, pulling away, and began to speak rapidly. She reverted to Ryl at a few points, her lekku waving wildly.
"Alright." Zara said when the girl finished speaking. She was, of course, fluent in Ryl and the 'language of the lekku'. She'd once faked being a Twi'lek, moving false lekku with the Force. "We'll help you find Zaalbar. But then I need a favor. Would you be willing to sneak me and Carth into the Vulkar base?"
Mission cocked her head, dark eyes suddenly gleaming with mischief. "I would."
"Alright, my dear girl, we've got a bit of work to do."
She blinked up. "Oh?"
"There are some people approaching." Zara said ambiguously. "We should talk to them."
Mission furrowed her brow and Carth rolled his eyes. "She just knows." He said, forestalling any questions.
Zara trotted forward, her keen eyes piercing the gloom. She laughed. "Well, if it isn't my favorite Mandalorian merc."
The Ordo narrowed his eyes. "Exactly how many Mandalorian mercs do you know?" He rumbled, oozing threat.
"Enough to know that you're from clan Ordo." She was close enough now to smirk at him. "And you've got my discblade."
His head jerked up and back. "So you're the one, eh?" His stone gray eyes gleamed. "Now I remember you. Never did get your name."
She shrugged. "So? Anyways, I want my discblade back."
"Maybe later, copikla." He retorted.
Zara tipped her head. "Cute, am I? Maybe I'll just take my discblade back and cut off your head while I'm doing it."
He tipped his head back and laughed harshly. "You've got spirit, cyar'ika."
Her eyes gleamed dangerously. "That's Zara Nixie of the Zeison Sha to you."
"Canderous of Ordo." His eyes gleamed. "Maybe a kiss?"
"A Keldabe kiss!" She spat back, tensing up as she sensed a pack of rahkgouls. "Long memory, short fuse. But, if you give me my discblade, the pack of rahkghouls trying to ambush us won't know what hit them." Her eyes locked onto his. "I'll kill them and your men," she said it scornfully, "won't even wet their pants."
He barked a laugh. "I'd like to see you try." All the same, he took something from his thin pack and tossed it too her.
She caught it unerringly, smiling at the weight and heft of her discblade. It was still imbued with the Force, an object so saturated with the Force it could resist a direct lightsaber hit. It was also imprinted with her specific Force signature. She expertly twisted it in her grasp and turned, flicking her wrist out so it spun through the air in a silvery blur.
Her lips curled in a half-smile as she sensed her discblade tear through flesh, turning the attention of the rahkghouls entirely on her. She walked forward, shoulders set and a smirk on her lips.
The discblade returned to her upraised hand and she stuck it in the ground, setting her feet and cocking her fists, closing her eyes. The rahkghouls were confused enough to approach her cautiously, bloodlust and insanity held in check by fear.
She lashed out with her fists and feet, crushing the skull and ribcage of a rahkghoul in two blows. The toe knife in her boot ripped one up the belly and a double-fist sent the skull spattering back. She spun in a circle, her discblade in one hand, cutting the last three rahkghouls to ribbons.
Her shoulders remained high and proud as she walked back to Canderous and her two companions, eyes half-lidded. "Got anything to say?"
The Mandalorian grinned. "What buir said. Mandokarla."
She batted her eyes. "I've always had the right stuff. Flyboy, Mish, ready to head out?"
"If you're checking out those escape pods, they've been stripped clean."
"Don't worry about me, Mando. I've got bigger fish to fry."
A slow smile spread across his lips. It was a scary look on his grim face, broad shoulders, and two-plus meters of height. "I'll keep an eye out for interesting news, cyar'ika."
"You oughta." Her eyes clouded over for a brief second.
"We have a deal?" There was the buzz of the cantina, the smell of alcohol.
Her head cocked, lips pulling into a smile. "Yeah, we do." She raised her glass, downing the tihaar he'd thrust at her. The deal was sealed.
"Yes…" she murmured, "we'll see each other again."
His permacrete eyes glittered with curiosity, but he didn't ask before disappearing into the gloom. Zara shook her head, braid swaying, and walked forward.
"Which way was it to the sewers, Mish?"
The teen ran up to take the lead, pressing her lips together as if that would keep her questions from bursting out.
"I can handle the lock." Mission said.
Zara smirked. "I can too, kiddo. But feel free."
Mission fiddled with the door for several moments and the lock sprang open. Zaalbar exited cautiously, enveloping Mission in a hug.
"Who are these people?"
"I am Zara Nixie of the Zeison Sha, taught by the Matukai. My companion," she gestured to Carth, "is Carth Onasi."
"I thank you for helping Mission free me."
"It was no trouble, young Zaalbar." He was young, perhaps fifty or sixty years.
One furry brow rose. "You know much of my people."
"I enjoy being able to travel alone. And to do so, I must be knowledgeable. And I've always had a talent for languages."
"Then you would know what a life-debt it."
Zara shook her head. "My service did you a good, but not that much a good. Mission would have freed you one way or another."
"You saved me from slavery. That is worth a life-debt." Zaalbar rumbled.