Spoils of War
Episode XII: Ranzar's Job
Canto Bight Starport
Canto Bight: Cantonica's sparkling capital city which lazed against the pristine shores of the largest artificial ocean in the galaxy. On land, endless casinos and racetracks provided a desirable destination for wealthy tourists, high-dollar gamblers, and war profiteers. On the water, yachting excursions and deep-sea hunting for imported creatures was popular. Because of astronomical taxes and the expense of visiting, the city was immaculately maintained and known for only being accessible to the wealthiest class. Even the spaceport was excessively grand, glowing golden with beautiful art deco details etched with inlays of pearl, onyx, and other expensive elements.
In the dock they had landed in a few moments prior, the Twi'lek bounty hunters waited while talking lowly just beyond the extended ship ramp. Ran sauntered down to join them, leaving Din and Tala by themselves. Against the glittering trappings of Canto Bight's opulence, the rough-and-tumble mercenaries and their hulking freighter looked like dirty smudges.
In the dim hold of Ran's ship, Din fumbled with the in-ear comm and tracking device Tala was going to be wearing. It was very small and practically invisible to the naked eye when installed correctly. Waiting patiently for him to finish whatever he was doing with it, Tala stood mid-hold staring at nothing as she gathered her thoughts. She'd been woken an hour away from here gently by Din, whose current attitude could only be described as both chastened and extremely edgy. He only got quieter when Ran handed Tala some "clothing and a little makeup so you won't stick out like a sore thumb and get kicked out of that ritzy joint."
After taking the items and wondering where they'd come from, Tala had put them on. Now transformed into someone who could pass for an heiress or elegant socialite, she stood looking both taller and physically more petite than normal in a flattering, floor-length a-line black gown that shimmered with movement. The long sleeves were bell design with trailing points that reached mid-thigh. An elegant, high neckline contrasted with chic cutouts which showed the olive skin of her décolletage and shoulder caps. The back was open and cut low. Red lipstick and an intricate, thick braided knot at the nape of her neck completed the look.
Dressing like this was something out of her old life and had Tala feeling irritable. A small mercy helping her feel more like herself was that the skirt hid her holster and her boots—complete with one knife in each, just in case. She kept one thought in her mind to keep herself from wavering: Lark Bevran. Dead by the end of today with any luck. One less evil man in the world. That was the single thought driving her forward.
Din turned. "All right, time to give this a try."
Her scattered thoughts went out like the tide. This was the first moment she and Din had to themselves since boarding back on Nevarro. Tala eyed the group of mercenaries. "You don't trust these people at all,do you?" she asked in a covert murmur, pulling her hair aside to opposite shoulder. She'd already picked up on the fact that Din felt misgivings about Ran. But his demeanor indicated something else going on. Maybe it had something to do with Xi'an. The thought of that Twi'lek made Tala immediately feel a negative flash of emotion: jealousy.
Din plucked the tiny device out of his palm with his thumb and forefinger. "Just now figuring that out? Hold still."
He stood beside her, facing her profile. First, he tried just shoving it in without touching her, which resulted in him fumbling the comm then catching it midair. He made a soft sound of frustration. "Should we leave?" Tala asked softly, keeping a furtive eye on the mercenaries—especially the female Twi'lek. "Tell me. I trust your judgment."
He softened—she could hear it. "I appreciate that." Din tried again with a hand on her shoulder to steady his attempt. "Look. This crew is…" He sighed. "The jobs I've done with them in the past have always toed the line. Which is why I haven't run with them for a couple of years." Slightly frustrated, he halted his attempts with the comm. "Do I want you to do this? No." There was a pause that felt significant. "But it's not because of the crew."
Tala's eyes cut his way and her head turned a bit with the movement. "Why then?"
Again, there was another weighted pause. When he spoke, he sounded irritable. "Because I can't stand seeing you in danger, okay?" After four years of knowing him now, Tala had to smile to herself. She already knew that, but it made her heart feel very soft to hear it out loud. Din firmly pushed her head back into place and then failed one last time trying to put the device in. Another frustrated sound came. "I can't do this with gloves. Hold this." He put the comm into her hand.
"I thought facing danger was good for building character," Tala ventured through a faintly trolling smile.
Her smile faded when she heard his gloves come off, then felt them pressed into her free hand as he took the comm back. "Don't quote me back to me," he joked wearily. Bare fingertips pressed her head into a gentle tilt and made her stiffen all over as he managed to finally insert the device correctly, which resulted in more ghostlike touches. All Tala could feel for that moment was his skin on hers—not the alien device now sitting in her ear canal. "All right. Got it." His touch evaporated. He held up the other part of the comm-tracer. "We'll be able to hear everything, and you'll be able to hear us too." He pocketed the device and took his gloves from her.
Tala watched his hands openly for the brief a time as they were visible. Strong looking and a good size, tanned a shade or three lighter than hers with short nails. She swallowed. Sometimes, she forgot he was a person under all those layers. "My eyes are up here," he joked as his skin disappeared back into the gloves.
Immediately embarrassed, it took her a second to find her words. She could still feel his touch. "Just not used to seeing… you know," she excused as convincingly as possible, "any of you, that's all." … Or feeling your skin against mine. She thought about him calling her his wife in front of the crew earlier and still didn't know how to feel about it. Something for later discussion, without a doubt. Anyway. Tala spread her hands and did a full turn. "Well. How do I look?"
His awkward pause gave him away, as well as his lukewarm response: he didn't know what to say. "Uh… fine."
Tala waited. What she'd been asking wasn't answered. "No weapons show?"
"Oh." He made a short, gruff sound she'd never heard him make before—a clearing of the throat. "No. You're good."
Footsteps lumbered up the ramp and Ran peeked his head back in. "Everything good in here, lovebirds? Ready?"
Din gave a nod his way. "Fine. All set." His voice softened as his helmet turned to Tala. "If you are."
She nodded once, standing straighter as the idea of vengeance burned bright in her veins. "I am." Killing Lark wouldn't solve the galaxy's problems but it would right some wrongs, and it would give Tala's survival meaning beyond the life she had gained. And that counted for something.
Ran smiled facetiously. "Great. Let's go over everything one more time with the group." He ambled back down the ramp and Tala made to follow but Din's arm stopped her. Questioningly, she frowned at him.
"Just say the word if you change your mind. At any point. Understand?"
It was hard to gauge severity by voice alone, especially since Din was practiced in disguising his emotions—but Tala heard how much he hated what was happening. A flash of guilt for dragging him cropped up, followed by the fact that he'd insisted on coming with her. "Tayli'bac," she said, a Mando'a word that conveyed strong understanding while using her tone to suggest he was being a bit of a doomsayer. She gripped his forearm brief and firm, something Mandalorians sometimes did to give each other courage before jumping into a fight. Then she followed Ran down toward the mercenaries who lurked in wait with unreadable, looming eyes. Din followed, staying close to her until the very last second it was no longer possible.
Shortly Thereafter
Crescent Royale Casino
The second Tala crossed over the threshold of the grand entrance and began to descend the wide stairs into the casino, she was overwhelmed. A barrage of visuals, sounds, and smells all hit at once: Cigar smoke and expensive perfume. Conversation and applause from the many gambling tables. Ringing, spinning, and all manner of racket from slot machines and betting droids. Low thumping music, glassware clinking, people laughing raucously. Flashing lights, gilded lines, and the patrons. The patrons! Tala knew she was gawking and tried her best to put a stop to it. Never before had she seen such finely dressed sentients—and that was saying something after being raised amongst the elite of Vorus.
Tala had one takeaway she shared lowly: "Really glad I didn't wear my flight suit in here."
Din's voice came through in her left ear, stannic and small. "Any sign of him?"
Careful to walk in such a way that her boots didn't show, Tala glanced around and kept her mouth movements to a minimum. "Keep your plating on, I only just walked in the front door."
Deciding to do a wide sweep first to get the lay of the land, Tala began a slow, careful exploration. For about two hours, she investigated two levels of the casino, two covered terraces, and multiple attached lounges. She didn't see Lark anywhere. In her ear, she could hear everyone except Din losing patience.
Finally, Ran could be heard coming close to the speaker. "Look, we might need to circle back if this is gonna take more than a few hours. Parking a starship in this damn town is banditry."
"No one's leaving," Din could be heard saying forcefully.
Tala, however, had stopped in the entry area at the foot of the grand entry stairway. Around her, a sea of patrons drifted. In front of her, the man she'd come here to identify. Descending the stairs in fine clothing with gray hair, Lark Bevran. All sound faded out, her heart hammered, and her mouth went dry. In her ear, Din and Ran were arguing. "Everyone shut up, I see him!" she whispered hard. All around, people laughed in carefree gaiety.
Xi'an's distant voice dripped with condescension. "And you're sure it's him?"
Tala's jaw tightened and she had to keep her face neutral forcefully. "Yes of course I am." Bevran had only been present at every official event ever—hell, he'd been there on the day Din rescued her, only he'd left with most of the others when the room had first cleared. Turning partially, Tala eyed her mark carefully. He wasn't alone. "I'm also sure about the fact that he has men with him, five of them," she relayed quietly. Details that hadn't been shared.
"You didn't mention anything about accomplices," Din accused immediately, his tone deadly.
Ran sounded unperturbed. "Hey, can't mention what I don't know anything about."
Tala stood taller. Lark's eyes had locked onto hers over the distance. He stopped mid-stair and she did nothing but stand in place and hold his eye contact as her breathing began to intensify. Flanked by his five severe-looking thugs, Lark smiled then headed straight for her down the stairs and through the crowd. In her ear, Din and Ran argued. "Shut up you both, he's headed for me!" Tala whisper-shouted under her breath as her pulse began to really pick up.
Din always spoke with such measure. So hearing him sounding riled up was jarring. "Tala, he might have more men back wherever he's holed up—you can still walk away, but the opportunity's about to be gone! You need to decide!"
Hearing him distressed wasn't the best feeling. He really didn't want her to do this. But she'd made her mind up the second Ran had come into Hapa's and dropped Bevran's name. Din was just going to have to deal with it. "I'm fine, now be quiet," she whispered harshly, running out of time to communicate.
Through the veil of patrons, Bevran materialized just like Tala remembered him: stately, dignified, and unsettling. Her blood chilled, but not for the reason it always had before. Today, she felt like the hunter, and he the prey… and he wouldn't know it until his fate was sealed. As such, Tala smiled to see him despite the undercurrent of nerves and old fear. "Tala Stryker," he greeted with a curious, off-putting smile. "What are you doing here? And looking like… that. You've grown up, huh little girl?"
It was difficult not to lunge at him and strangle him in place. Every inch of her body hummed, ready to do exactly that. She stood still in place and saved the urge up for later. "Imagine running into you in a place like this," she replied evasively, seeing straight through what lay behind his carefully constructed outer behavior: malice.
He chuckled, looking at her face and eyes thoroughly, waiting for her to break eye contact. She didn't. His smile grew broad as his intrigue grew. "Betting's off for tonight, boys!" Lark announced without taking those steely eyes off Tala's. "Me and my old friend here have some catching up to do." He leaned close to her—too close, but she allowed it. "Let's go somewhere more private, shall we?" It wasn't a real question, and they both knew it. He put a hand on Tala's lower back and began to guide her to the way they'd both come in. Again she allowed it, keeping her expression calm and her breathing regulated with work. She eyed the henchmen briefly. Armed and thickly built. The danger was higher than she'd thought, but it was sheer madness of revenge that propelled her forward into the lion's den. In her ear, she could hear that the mercenaries were already in place and set to trail her.
Meanwhile
As covertly as possible, the ragtag group used back alleys as they followed Tala's rapidly moving signal. Din wasn't happy—first striding too fast for the others to keep up, then circling back to confront Ran whenever he thought of another unacceptable thing. The most recent one: "How many associates does Bevran have?" he demanded.
"Unknown."
Din fully got in his way, stopping him. He hadn't liked this job from the jump, but at that time he'd only been guarded. Now, he was pissed. "You failed to mention anything about this back on Nevarro," he accused. "You made it sound like it was just him."
Ran had the gall to put on a slighted expression before chuckling and giving Din a shoulder clap. "Now, she's a tough girl, Mando. I think she can take care of herself. Keep your head on." He smiled and it wasn't pleasant, then he resumed his way after brushing past the Mandalorian.
Din stood in place, his voice giving away how outraged he felt. "If anything happens to her, you'll pay. And that's a promise."
Xi'an, who'd been sashaying at the rear of the group while amusing herself with one of her knives, mocked Din's distress. "You've got it bad for that scrawny little human of yours, haven't you!" She full-on laughed, skipping ahead a few steps before stopping to look back and beam.
A gloved finger pointed straight at her as he began to move again. "Shut up, Xi'an. I'm warning you."
She imitated him in a silly, deep voice. "I'm warning you." She bit the air loudly just shy of his finger and a throaty giggle followed.
Again, Din's intense stride carried him ahead of the rest of the group by a good bit. Qin shook his head in annoyance, cutting his eyes sidelong at Ran. Entertained by the whole thing, Ran shot the Twi'lek a sly smirk as his slow, ambling pace conveyed no worry. "Flyboy's got it pretty bad for the missus," he observed, shooting over another devious little glance. "Info like that might come in useful someday, you think?" Qin smirked, then chuckled at Ran's comment. It was not a nice sound.
Lark Bevran's Apartment
Like everything else on Canto Bight, Lark's rented lodging was absurdly decadent. After a brief ride in a luxury landspeeder, Tala had been ushered into a swanky residential building and then onto a lift to the top floor where Lark had the penthouse rented. The entryway led into a grand lounge with a water fountain surrounded by couches. A protocol droid waited and a fish tank with exotic species took up an entire wall. Tala found the quarters intensely soulless and imagined the rent had to be exorbitant. What a waste.
Interestingly, Lark had his security personnel remain back in the lounge as he indicated Tala join him in his private suite. That was a good sign. He still thought she was some helpless child who he didn't need protection from—because what threat could she possibly pose? The longer he thought that, the better. She complied without fuss, portraying a meek girl who still accepted Lark's authority over her. She was surprised he didn't catch onto her ploy, because while she'd always been good at shutting her mouth and complying in the past, it had always been with a bad attitude she couldn't quite hide. Today, despite some nerves, she had a strange serenity as something that felt like purpose welled deep inside. Years underneath the thumbs of men like Lark. Was it any wonder what was about to happen here?
As the large door slid closed behind and left them alone, Tala eyed Lark without being too overt about it. No visible weapons on his person, but that didn't mean they weren't there. He sauntered to a fancy bar adjacent to a commanding office desk. Imposing artwork and jeweled decor combined with low lighting gave the room a sumptuous feel. Overhead, a transparent ceiling domed over the space, showcasing a stunning twilight view for three hundred and sixty degrees: the golden city, the sparkling ocean, the rolling mountains. Not so beautiful was the construction taking place just across the way—nor the scaffolding running between this building and that one.
"Well. What an interesting turn of events this is," Lark remarked, leisurely pouring himself a dark drink. He raised it to his face and swirled the amber liquid, looking at Tala over the top of the glass with a twitching, sly smile. "Why are you here, and without your little armored bodyguard? I'll bet all my credits he tired of you already." He chuckled at the amusements he found at her expense. "Have you come to Cantonica to make your fortune? Or to find a new husband?" He sipped his drink and looked her body up and down with shameless approval. "Dressed like that, you won't have much problem."
Tala was supposed to stall him until Ran and the others got here. But she wasn't interested in that, and never had been. Instead, she drifted to look at the city below, fingertips faintly touching the transparisteel before she turned back to Lark and faced him in the way she'd always dreamed of: with her dignity intact and with the power on her side. Without fear of punishment. Today, she was the punisher.
"Do you know what I remember about you most clearly, Lark?" she asked neutrally enough before her voice took a steep turn downward into hostility. "How you liked to treat people you thought were beneath you." She took a step toward him. "The way my older sisters were scared of you." Another step as she could no longer contain her hatred. "The liberties you took with the female servants."
He was startled, then offended, then readily dismissing her—all within seconds. "I see," he commented darkly. "Now that you've run off and somehow survived the past few years on your own, you think you're entitled to speak to me any way you wish." He set his drink down on his desk hard.
Tala smiled at him coldly. Her adrenaline had her feeling almost high. "Yes, that's exactly what I think, old man."
Lark dimmed intensely. "That's enough."
"I agree." In her ear, Ran and Din were both repeatedly asking her what she was doing with rising intensity. Digging into her ear with a grimace, Tala pulled the comm out and tossed it. Lark frowned in confusion as she strode straight up into his space with no indication of her intentions then blindsided him with a right hook in the face. The punch packed the kind of force that would be shocking to him. He was, after all, one of the men who had always most loudly underestimated her.
He stumbled back with a stunned expression, barely keeping balance as he clutched his face with alarm. "What do you think you're doing?!" Wham! Left hook. He blundered back again as Tala pressed forward, every fighter's instinct singing as adrenaline soared. He tried to hit her and didn't even come close. She ducked then took him down easily by dropping into a low center of gravity combined with a rush at his waist. Hitting the ground hard was the least of his worries—Tala was on top of him, pounding his face in as he fought uselessly.
"Stop, stop!" Lark yelled, trying to cover his face, grab her hands, wiggle free, escape—but the pin she had him in with her leg was solid. Tala did pause beating his face in to whip her blaster out and shoot the door panel so it jammed shut—no doubt the security guys would come running soon.
In the brief interim, Lark tried to throw her off. Aggressing with more force, Tala blaster whipped him then held him at the end of it. "Stay down, you stunted slime!"
They came to abrupt stillness as Lark Bevran panted. It showed in his eyes: he had no idea who Tala was or what she was capable of. And now he knew it. Fear showed, and with it came a burst of power Tala had never felt before. She yanked him up by the front of her shirt, years of righteous anger coursing into veins that shook. She thought of Esha. She thought of her mother and sisters. "It's women like me who will someday take everything from men like you," she hissed in his face. Commotion sounded outside beyond the shut door. Lark heard too and looked that way in horrified, confused dismay. Tala forced him to look back at her, blaster still held at his face. "Those are the mercenaries who came to kill you," she informed him. "One of which is my Mandalorian." She felt smug to drop that factoid after Lark's earlier comment. More fear grew in Lark's face, especially when Tala leaned close and let every ounce of fury and promise carry in her voice. The blaster was briefly forgotten, aiming at nothing. "Don't worry. You don't need to be afraid of him—you need to be afraid of me."
Abruptly Lark's expression changed and he yanked something out from his hip area. Tala ducked and shoved his arm, succeeding in sending what was a super high-powered blaster flying—but not before he'd fired several shots. The dome overhead shattered and glass rained down like a monsoon, causing both Vorians to briefly duck and cover.
When the brief mayhem ended, Tala could hear the crew's nearby shouts—they were engaged in combat with the security force and trying to get the door open. Scrambling to her feet on an ocean of glittering glass and finding herself without her blaster, Tala faced off with Lark who'd just reached his height. He threw a small shard of glass at her. She ducked the sloppy throw, grabbed her unwieldy skirts up high, then kicked a boot into the glass at her feet as hard as she could—sending shards of glass flying at her opponent. He howled and recoiled as the damage was done, then pitched another shard full force as she advanced on him. Tala wasn't fast enough that time, and the shard was bigger. Pain exploded in her upper thigh. Even as a scream sounded through gritted teeth, she spotted her blaster and lunged through agony to grab it without getting scraped by the glass. Seeing what she was doing, Lark turned and ran straight out of the shattered dome into air. Only it wasn't air—it was the scaffolding Tala had noticed before.
Faced with the brief decision of pulling the shard of glass out or leaving it, Tala was forced to leave it in so she wouldn't lose blood—she lost it at a higher rate than others. Limping and in a sudden sweat from the intense pain, she pursued Lark. Behind her, she heard the door begin to crank open manually but she didn't stop to see who it was.
Down the rickety scaffolding she went without a single thought or hesitation, firing at Lark sloppily from a ragged gait before the excruciating pain made her stop in place about halfway across and double over to clutch at her thigh. That's when she saw the fall of at least a hundred feet under her skirt, which billowed in the light wind this high up. Immediately terrified, Tala locked up.
Across the narrow scaffolding, Lark had reached the main construction area, which was a skeletal structure that so far only boasted support beams and temporary floors for workers to walk on. Lark seemed to think he'd won and stopped to grin at Tala stupidly—before his expression took on a worried effect again. His eyes had cut to the scaffolding strip that ran parallel to the one Tala was on. Xi'an was sprinting across. She paused to fire at Lark (with his own blaster no less)—and briefly, the two women made eye contact. Xi'an grinned wickedly, then fired three shots with a shout of "oops!" before she darted off. What had she fired on? The end of the scaffolding Tala stood on, closest to Lark.
In the span of mere seconds, this is what happened: The structure under Tala's feet shuddered then pitched as the suspension snapped where Xi'an's bolts severed connectors. The scaffolding's end began to collapse then nosedive toward the ground. Tala's eyes bulged, her stomach leaped, and she scrambled to hold onto something—anything as her mind flashed one single message across a terrified mind: I'm about to fall to my death. And then her hands found purchase and she was able to bearhug onto the slippery scaffolding as it came to a stop leaving her dangling very far up in the air above a city street below.
As this happened, Din had just emerged into view and witnessed Xi'an shoot the scaffolding. Without hesitation he jumped into action, sliding down the collapsing scaffolding toward Tala then stopping his rapid descent short of knocking into her by kicking a boot into the wall while hugging onto the scaffolding tight. It sounded painful from the harsh grunt he made.
One second she'd been slipping down, the next he was above her and his hand was reaching for her as he yelled for her to grab on. She did, and he hauled her up as she climbed him like a tree, clinging for life. Breathless and scared, Tala took a few seconds to get her bearings and realize she hadn't fallen to her death before she looked across the way—because Bevran was still alive. She exhaled hard. Still alive. Panic later. She trembled like it was freezing outside, though. A level up, Xi'an had switched to knife attacks with Lark, who got an idea similar to Din and found a pole he could use to slide down level to level with. He was probably going to do that all the way to the ground floor, but Din was ahead of that plan.
"Hold onto me, as tight as you can," he instructed breathily, his voice shaking. Tala complied, eyes on Lark as her resolve returned even stronger than before, and anger. A lot of anger. Din raised a fist and fired his grapple. It latched onto what would someday be the building's side and they swung across the divide.
On furious impulse, Tala yanked Din's blaster out of its holster then fired relentlessly at Lark as they soared through the air. This time, her rapid scatter of laserfire found its mark. Lark fell off the pole dead as Din's feet hit the floor of the construction zone. Tala didn't hold on well and went tumbling out of Din's grip to the safety of the floor. She was so shaky she didn't think she could stand, but she definitely looked around trying to locate Xi'an, who was still one level above but had just slid down the same pole Lark did.
The instant the Twi'lek hit the level they were on, Din was waiting. He grabbed her by the front of her clothes and shoved her over the steep drop over the edge of the building. A simple release and she'd be dead. Eyes bulging, she panted and stared as Din remained furiously silent then finally spoke. "If you ever do anything like that ever again, you're dead."
"A mistake of passion," she simpered.
Din turned them both by a fraction, disgust thick in his voice. "You don't know what passion is." He shoved her, because he'd seen Tala climb to her feet. Xi'an whirled from the force Din shoved, right into Tala's waiting fist. It was a hook so hard, the Twi'lek hit the floor unconscious. Swearing hard, Tala cradled her hand with a grimace, standing on her good leg gingerly as all the pain she was in caught up with her—not to mention how shaken she was from the near-death experience.
"You okay?" Din asked, worry in the voice that had just been so deadly and flat. He hovered a bit away from her, leaving the impression that he wanted to touch her to verify okayness.
Owner of a painful fist and a bleeding leg, Tala grimaced at him briefly and smacked his blaster back into his hand. "I'll live."
He took it, his helm turned toward the bloody shard in her thigh. "That doesn't look too good."
"Well it doesn't feel good either!" she complained.
"Hey!" Qin shouted from across the way, having just appeared. "Hey, what'd you do to my sister?!" He ran across the same scaffolding that Xi'an had. Ran was behind him, moving slower.
"These people are the worst," Tala muttered to Din before she limped over to Lark, quickly searching his body as Din prepared to receive Qin and Ran, who made it down the pole as Tala was rising again.
Qin blustered up and Din met him chest-first in a charged standoff. "Your lunatic sister just tried to kill her," Din growled, pointing to where Tala glowered. "So I'd be real careful right now, Qin."
"She's just unconscious," Ran relayed, having knelt to check Xi'an's vitals. Qin proved to be a little smarter than his sister (which wasn't saying the most). He backed off, but he still had the look of a caged animal. So did Din. "Fellas, fellas," Ran pacified as he stiffly stood. "Let's focus on the job."
"Job's over," Qin muttered unhappily.
Ran turned on him impatiently. "No it ain't, where's the stolen goods?" He pivoted back to Din and Tala. "Everything in that apartment of his is rented. Didn't see hide nor hair of the stuff I'm supposed to recover." He started numbering things on his fingers: "Three statues of some god, some special furs, a rare trumpet from Malastare—" He gestured irreverently. "You know. Stupid dwang only rich laserbrains care about."
Tala waved a dismissing, aggravated hand. "Whatever you can find in his apartment is all there is. Everything else, he lost in gambling debts."
Ran paused shrewdly. "… I didn't hear you two talk about that over the comm."
"I'm sure there's a lot you didn't hear!" Tala retorted, challenging him to argue with her on it. "Whatever scraps you find in his safes up there will be more than enough proof that what I'm saying is true." She looked at Lark's corpse briefly. "You'll have to return to whichever brother of mine hired you with just the dead man."
"Yeah right, if we don't have the requested stuff, the job's null and void," Ran said, his voice gaining an edge of frustration. "I doubt they'll give us even half of what was promised just for the stiff."
"Not our problem," Din said curtly.
Tala liked that take and backed him up, adding in a slight dig in while she was at it: "Get what you can get then take off before you run out of money to pay the docking fee." Ran gave her a decidedly dark look for that one.
Din folded his arms. "The local authorities will be showing up soon. Chop chop."
Ran took a second, contemplating both of them, but Tala most of all. Even though his face stayed pleasant enough, there was something sinister under the surface. "Look, I can see this ain't gonna work out too good moving forward. We'll find someone else who wanted him dead, but I can't guarantee any payment to you unless—"
"Keep your money," Tala said, not hiding the disgust in her voice. "I have what I came here for." Her eyes cut to Lark's body nearby.
Ran was over it. "Suit yourself." He waved a hand at Din. "Go get your stuff off my ship." It wasn't hostile, but it wasn't pleasant either.
That's where the group went separate ways: Ran and Qin were left to deal with Lark's body and Xi'an's unconscious state as Din and Tala figured the best way to get down the structure then drew gazes on the street level: a Mandalorian with a disheveled woman. Luckily, the black of her dress hid the blood.
"I'll never work with those crinking shabs ever again," Din declared resentfully—a promise he wouldn't be able to end up keeping, but in the moment he truly did mean it. He stooped to pick up a piece of the destroyed blaster Tala had dropped from the upper heights—the weapon that he'd given her. "I should have dropped her useless ass off that edge," he muttered foully, earning a charged, unsure sidelong glance from Tala. Din tossed the mangled part while exhaling in a way that indicated he was trying to calm himself down. Then he sighed wearily, changing subjects. "But why not collect what's owed to you after going through all that?"
A pained glance went his way, and a mysterious reply accompanied: "I'm going to." Her limp was getting worse with every step as adrenaline faded and her nervous system calmed down. "But first I need some medical attention." Din silently tried to help her walk and Tala batted him away tiredly. "I really liked that blaster," she lamented before briefly glancing back at the structure they'd just been on. An instant prickle of fear rose at how bad that could have been. "And that was really kriffing close," she murmured hollowly. Din had been right about the danger. Or right enough.
Beside her, the Mandalorian was equally disturbed. "You're telling me."
Chastened, Tala remained quiet. Yes, she'd killed Lark. But she'd almost gotten herself killed in the process and coincidentally put Din in danger with these shady characters. She'd be more thoughtful in the future about decisions like the one she'd made that brought them here.
UrgeMed Clinic
Din got Tala's things off Ran's ship and returned to where he'd left her: in the safety of a treatment room at the local clinic. Like everything else in Canto Bight, the medical center was incredibly beautiful.
A strong bacta treatment on Tala's leg had left her feeling much better, and the time to breathe and calm saw her feeling okay again. Now bandaged with an external bacta strip applied, her leg injury was as sorted as it could be. On Tala's right hand, the medic applied the final bacta patches across the knuckles where the skin had been broken in that last brutal swing at Xi'an's face.
"All set!" the medic said, finishing her work. "Let those sit for a couple minutes before you move so it can bond to your skin. Then you're good to go." The medic gave a smile and departed the room.
Across from where Tala sat on the examination cot, the Mandalorian shifted in the seat he occupied, watching how she eyed her bandaged hand. "I think that was your best K-O to date," he commented lightly, mentioning Xi'an without really mentioning her—which made Tala feel a little darker inside.
"Well, I really meant it," she muttered, thinking of that fanged smile and the bad energy that came with it. How could Din even want to talk to her much less do… that with her?
"Still glad you came and did this?"
Tala forced Xi'an out of her mind. Other than regretting endangering Din and feeling a little skittish after nearly plunging to her death, the answer was easy: "Yes. I need to do whatever I can. Even if it's just a little." With a deep exhale and a hand scrubbing her forehead tiredly for a moment, Tala figured she should explain more. Her mind contained years of context and information, while Din had come here with her on almost zero knowledge. More testament to his infallible loyalty she didn't feel deserving of.
"Lark Bevran's wealth comes from the Vorian poor," she explained presently, eyes glazing over briefly as she saw scenes from her past. "The ones who work on the planet, trapped there in the mines harvesting ore for Stryker weapon components. However much money is left—because I do believe Lark was running himself dry here—will not fall into hands like Ranzar Malk's. Or his two idiot thugs." She slid her eyes to Din, hoping she was right about this: "We're going to be coming into some money soon unless I'm way off about this." Din sat back in his seat and made an approving hm sound at her reveal. Curious, Tala waited for him to explain what he found remarkable. When he didn't, she prompted, "What?"
"You're not so bad at this stuff."
Thank the gods. A chance for a joke. "You doubted me?" As soon as she asked it, Tala held a finger up. "… Don't answer that." Because he sure as hell had and was within his rights, too.
He chuckled softly, his clothing rustling as he shifted in his seat. "Just so you know, I've got another blaster on the Crest with your name on it. Don't mess this one up."
Tala sat straighter, instantly ready to protest and try to reject the graciousness. "Din—" And then she stopped herself short. She exhaled, sagged, then admitted defeat. Why bother trying? Din was hard to say no to. "Thank you. For having my back. And saving my life." She made a self-conscious face. "Again."
"Anytime."
How could a single word make her pause like she did? Well, it wasn't the word really, it was the way he said it. Intimidated by the intensity and ready to go, Tala stood. The bacta treatment had helped, but the deeper healing would leave her thigh sore for a week or two.
Din stood too. "Where we heading?" he asked, curiosity coloring his voice.
Tala fished out the object she'd taken off Lark's person: his private starship's authorization remote, which would allow them onboard his secret ship. "The shipyard."
Lark's Starship
While Lark's personal style was for the most luxurious items only, his secret starship was a different story. One look at the hunk of junk and you'd be convinced a peasant owned it. It was rusty, beat up, and looked very wrong in the gleaming private dock it nested in. But that was the entire point. The interior didn't match the exterior. Lavish appointments filled every corner of the inside of the vessel—and the best part was what they found in the hidden floor compartments Tala directed Din to help her pry open.
"What kind of maniac keeps his money like this?" Din asked in astonishment as they stood back and looked at the three compartments they'd found and opened: they were all full to the gills of Imperial credits. He looked her way. "How'd you know this would be here?"
"He used to brag about it to us," Tala recalled. "How the banks were so untrustworthy. All I could think was how stupid he sounded, and what I would do with all his money if I could steal his ship full of treasures and fly away with it." She crouched, picked up a thousand-credit bar, and wiggled it for emphasis. "Dreams do come true."
Across from her, Din was trying to do some quick math, crouching and pawing through the credits briefly. "There's hundreds of thousands of credits here, not to mention all this… stuff." He looked around briefly at the things Ran had mentioned: instruments, furs, statues, art pieces. The ship was a packrat haven of strange, expensive items. It was a scene from the bizarre side to say the least.
Tala nodded, looking at all the beautiful things with a sour stomach. "You could retire," she commented before putting her eyes on him and bringing it up without much warning. She'd been thinking about it the entire time they'd been prying these floors up: "Your 'wife' can pay your way for a little while." Din stopped mid-movement and his helmet slowly rose. He said nothing and Tala studied him for a second, her heart rate increasing. He had to have known she was going to confront him about this. "Have you ever called me that around any other above-worlders?"
"No."
"… Have you wanted to?"
He didn't know how to answer the very probing inquiry. "… I don't think that's a fair question." Maybe it wasn't. But his non-answer didn't exactly satisfy Tala's need for answers. Din tilted his helmet at a golden statue of Talasia he'd just spotted. "Hey—wasn't that on the yacht all those years ago?"
Tala stood, folded her arms, and eyed the thing with a strange sense of full circle coming over her. "It was." A testy look went Din's way because he wouldn't address what he'd done. "Maybe I should keep it as a symbol of our love." Her words were a little sharper than they should have been.
Din sighed. A defeated sound. He stood too. "Tala stop, please. I'm embarrassed enough as it is." He was quiet for a long second before he dropped the credit he'd been holding with a clunk in with the rest of them. "It won't happen again."
It was Tala's turn to sigh and be embarrassed. "I did enjoy the look on her face," she admitted. But you should have seen the one on mine. "Anyway," she muttered. "Most of this junk is worth ridiculous amounts, I'm sure." She hesitated because at first, her plans had truly been to just let the Tribe have whatever money she could become the owner of. But seeing Lark in the flesh again had put her back into the life she'd tried to dismiss away. Even if she'd escaped, others still suffered. It was time to tell Din what she'd decided and hope he would go along with it. "Outside of a cut for the Tribe and some payment for you too… I'm finding a way to send all this to the people of Vorus. The real people."
Din thought for a brief beat, then shocked her. "Send it all." He sent a scanning look around the hold, capturing her surprised stare the entire way. "You're doing the work Esha always knew you would. Even from across the galaxy."
Those words, the reference, and the kindness of thought behind them transformed Tala and melted the hard edges. She was stricken, instantly. "Do you really think so?" she whispered.
There was a nod. "Yeah. She'd be proud."
Wiping at an eye, Tala nodded hard and got a handle on her emotions with a gruff clear of the throat. Din jerked a thumb at the cockpit, offering a way out of the moment. "You ready to leave this dumb town in the dust?" Deeply relieved at the idea of going home, Tala nodded yes. Thank the gods.
As they went to the cockpit, she lingered on the other questions she'd had for him—because the wife comment had only been one thing she wanted some clarity on. However, these questions were a little… stickier. Trying to sound casual, Tala broached the subject. "So. Is Xi'an your type?"
The question stilled him in place. He didn't sit. With a grudging sigh, he indulged her, albeit reluctantly. "… Sometimes proximity and a vague mutual interest is all it takes. I don't have a type." His voice softened a fraction. "And if I did, she wouldn't be it." He folded his arms at her and his voice gained more strength. "You're in my seat."
Tala frowned. "Huh?"
He indicated the captain's seat was for her with a faint nod. "Romy told me you're really shaping up behind the wheel. I wanna see."
Hmm. He was trying to distract her. But Tala could do both at the same time: pilot and question. "All right." She plopped into the seat and looked over the console, quickly identifying everything necessary for takeoff and hyperspace calculation. Looked pretty standard. She nimbly switched the correct switches, depressed the flight sequence buttons, fired the engines, activated the repulsors, and signaled takeoff like Romy had taught.
Din watched approvingly. "Good."
Tala wasn't interested in having a conversation about takeoff protocols. "How much of you has she seen?" she blurted, embarrassed and mad at the same time—then grudging, because she knew it wasn't her business. "If you don't mind me asking."
Obviously, he minded a lot. For a second, Tala thought he was about to put his palm on his helmet. But eventually he answered, as difficult as it sounded. "It was never anything… intimate between us. It was… just, you know." He sighed and looked away and then used a very provocative word Tala had only heard a few times in her life: "Fucking."
Scandalized at the provoking images that word conjured and the heady mood it portrayed, Tala felt herself turning red. "Oh." She cleared her throat demurely. "No. I don't know."
Again, he sighed, and it was an embarrassed sound. "Clothes were never all the way off, all right? Any other questions, or can we focus on getting this thing off the ground?"
Embarrassed right along with him with a mind full of images she really didn't want to see, Tala made a face, dug deep, then went head-down mode, running through the flight sequence and takeoff protocol—all while burning with negative thoughts at the idea of Din with Xi'an. The ship began to hover, albeit unevenly with her less than experienced hand—then they were lifting off and arcing up into the sky safely and slowly.
"Nice job," Din commented momentarily, watching as she double-checked herself with a drawn expression. "All correct."
Without saying anything back, Tala began hyperspace calculations. A minute later as they taxied out into space, she pulled the lever and the ship jumped to hyperspace for Nevarro successfully. She shot her companion a look, then sat back in the seat with a thoughtful, hard face.
What, did you think you were the only woman to ever want him?
She felt stupid. Of course others had noticed him like she had. He was strong, mysterious, clever, and assertive. All attractive attributes. The thought of him with other women hurt more than it should have, in a way that caught Tala off guard.
If he likes to have sex, why's he never come onto me…? I'm not that bad to look I don't think.
Tala had never been to bed with anyone except Din—and that only happened in dreams that came and went at a whim. She couldn't let herself hurt over this. Like he'd told her a long time ago now: things were one way below ground and another above. She was mistaking his loyalty and protection for something more than what it was. She was assigning deep and romantic implications to the man who was her best friend. Implications he'd never agreed to or even discussed with her.
Gods you're delusional sometimes, Tala.
Sullen around him in a way she never had been before, she cut brooding eyes sidelong with still-crossed arms. "What do you look like under there?"
The blunt question made his helmet turn slowly as he calculated a response. "Just now wondering that?"
"Just now asking."
He folded his arms and looked out of the cockpit glass, contemplating how to describe how he looked. "Ordinary enough."
Ugh. Tala felt worn down and very petulant. "No one knows what you look like?"
"Just me."
With a peevish shake of the head, Tala hunkered down in her seat, which had to be quite the sight in her fancy but torn dress. "I hate this rule of yours."
Din was maddeningly serene. "Strong words."
The brief foray into moodiness began to burn off in favor of something more fatigued and somber. She cared about Din no matter what. Loved him no matter what. Even if he was—and she shuddered to use this word in her mind—fucking women like Xi'an. He'd referred to his encounters with her as non-intimate, which seemed ironic at first. But there were different kinds of closeness in the world, and what Din and Tala had was intimate. She recognized it as she thought it over: He talked to her differently than he did anyone else—she'd observed it over the years. They knew each other's life stories, they looked out for each other. They laughed together. She could count on him for anything.
These things had to be what she clung to. Not a daydream that would never come true born from unrequited feelings. After a healthy length of silence, Tala looked Din's way with quiet eyes that lingered. She was going home with him where their little life would endure like before. Simply, dutifully. Caring for themselves and the Tribe—and each other too. In that way, Xi'an lost and Tala won. Fed up with thoughts on the Twi'lek, Tala decided it was time to get herself cleaned up. "Well," she declared, slapping her hands onto the seat arms and pushing to stand. "I'm gonna go get out of this ridiculous getup."
Din had a soft smile audible in his voice. "It's not so bad."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Tala offered as she exited—then she stopped, paused, and turned back, returning by a few steps. She might not bring this up to him if she didn't now. "There's something I'd like your feedback on when we get home. Something important. Something I've been meaning to get your take on for a few years, actually."
Din peered up and over at her with those casually crossed arms of his. "Sure." When she elaborated no further, he added in: "Mysterious."
Tala gave him a worried, bittersweet smile. He wasn't the only one who could conjure a little air of mystery here and there.
Nevarro
Tala's Apartment
Things felt normal again, and it was good to be home. Tala looked and felt like herself again, which also helped. With a replacement blaster strapped against her thigh just like Din had promised, she sat across from him on her rooftop space, her knee jiggling with nervous energy as she waited. He sat on the air vent ledge, thoughtfully poring over what Tala had handed him: the files on her sisters.
He finally finished reading and sat back, meeting her apprehensive waiting gaze. "Well, the info's old by now but we can assume the basics are still generally right. I'll be honest with you. This would be a huge undertaking. More than likely you'd need a big team of at least five or six capable of slicing and espionage, not to mention some serious muscle." He didn't sound optimistic. "Pretty high-risk guys to steal wives from—you'd make quite a few enemies. And there's kids involved too—dunno what your thoughts are there." Tala nodded tensely, deep in brooding thoughts. Any tiny hope she'd held out felt dashed by Din's informed opinion. It wasn't his fault. It was just reality. "What do you wanna do about this?"
Din's question hung in the air for a long moment. Finally, Tala shook her head. "I… don't know." She thought of the money she planned to send to Vorus and considered using it to fund a huge rescue mission, then shook her head. Liberate five women and their children (and start wars in the process potentially) or help an entire planet population gain their freedom through finances. It was a hard decision. But her instincts were shouting loud and clear, telling her that the place she could help was well-defined: the people of Vorus.
Din suddenly stood, making an irritated sound as something in his pants began to beep. He pulled out a blinking communication device and shook his head as he muted it. "Karga's really up my ass these days. I'm gonna go see what he wants—see you later, okay?"
Distracted, Tala nodded. "Mm-hm."
She watched him leave, her mind full of possibilities, cautions, and survivor's guilt.
Two Months Later
Din climbed the stairs to Tala's. Dusk was warm that evening, and his visit was unannounced—but that's how most of his visits went these days. Tala's rooftop had evolved over the years and was fully featured with a hammock, copious plants, and all the little projects she was always working on. Currently, she had gloves on and was practicing speed jabs on a standing punch bag. She paused her intense work when he appeared.
"Hey!" she greeted in a breathless friendly grin while wiping loose, frizzy tendrils of hair back from her face. She looked beautiful like that.
"Hey," he returned, smiling to see the relaxed look on her face. She'd been moody and tense the first couple of weeks back after Ranzar's job—no doubt worrying and dredging herself in guilt. She did that a lot. But after she sold the stolen goods to traders who passed through Nevarro then hired Romy to smuggle the stolen Bevran credits onto Vorus, she'd breathed a visible sigh of relief and her mood had improved. She hadn't made a single comment about her sisters again, and Din hadn't asked. Xi'an had thankfully not come up again.
"Want some of Ruthie's chawa stew? I have leftovers." Tala pulled her gloves off and tossed them at her rooftop chair.
"Not tonight. Can't stay too long." Din cut to the chase, moving closer so that only they could hear each other: "Heijj and Jara are getting married tomorrow."
Tala's eyes went wide in utter astonishment. "What?! Getting married?! Since when?!"
Amused because her reaction was exactly what his had been (only he'd been behind a helmet and hadn't said a word so no one had known he was surprised) Din shrugged. "They just told everyone today."
Tala put her hands on her hips, thinking hard off into the distance briefly. "And all this time I thought they were just best friends…"
Din chuckled. "I think everyone did. You can't exactly see longing looks through the helmets, I guess." He paused awkwardly at the funny look he got from Tala. "Either way. It'll be the kind of party like you've never seen before, I'm told." He'd never actually seen a Mandalorian wedding or wedding celebration thanks to being raised in a time of duress.
"Should I dress up? I got rid of that thing I wore on Canto Bight."
While the thought of that dress on her was never going to be a bad idea, Din shook his head. "Apparel isn't important. Endurance is. They tell me you've never seen anyone drink like you have at a Mandalorian wedding celebration—everyone tries to outdo each other."
Tala grinned at him, finding the idea amusing and appearing up for the new experience.
How little did the two of them know how incredibly eventful that night of celebration would turn out to be…
Author's Notes: hey my darlings! Thanks for your patience - this time of year is busiest in my line of work so I've had less free time to write (*cries, because fanfic is life*). Fun chapter, right? Tell me your favorite part ;) also know that next chapter will have more of Din's thoughts on all that transpired this chapter.
And listen, when I tell you I have been chomping at the bit to get to what happens next chapter… BELIEVE ME! *sideways eyes emoji* I think everyone's gonna be a fan. Thanks for all the support darlings. xoxo