Ayna was on a small ship. She had gathered as much. And judging by faint vibrations, the Hunter was the only other person on board.

Whatever Ayna sat in had straps that firmly held her ankles and torso. Her wrists were still cuffed, and the collar and cowl were still in place. The dark, soundproof material had loosened slightly now that she wasn’t moving around at all, and she could breathe readily enough, but it still kept her completely blind and deaf. And the Hunter had searched her pockets, including the hidden ones. The cuffs were the self-adjusting kind. Not standard issue, but perhaps the Hunter had dealt with Dwyyk before.

Overall the situation was, as her mother might have put it, less than fantastic.

Ayna thought of the time she’d realised those 500 G-rils had been put on her head, and how dismissive she’d felt about it. How did one little mistake result in this? And what exactly was she to do, other than play old songs in her head to pass the time?

After a while of absolutely nothing, Ayna realised the Hunter was standing right in front of her. Whether it was due to tremors too faint for her to be consciously aware of them, or something less definable, she didn’t know. But something was about to take place.

A few seconds passed. Either her captor was thinking something through or just liked dramatic tension.

Then the front of the cowl loosened from the collar and slid upwards, stopping at her nose. It was enough to return hearing and, more importantly, unfiltered air. Ayna savoured it for a moment, then worked her jaw.

“Kiss me, darling,” she then said.

“Sexual come-ons: Seventy-five,” said a female voice, unaltered by a helmet.

“I... come again?”

“You are the seventy-fifth mark to resort to sexual come-ons,” the Hunter told her.

She didn’t add anything for a few seconds.

“That’s... fascinating,” Ayna said.

“Ayna of Dwyyk,” the Hunter said. “There is a 500 Gybo-ril bounty on you for theft.”

“You went to a tremendous amount of trouble for small change,” Ayna commented.

“No. I did not venture into the Nearer Fringe for you. There is a 20.000 G-ril bounty on each member of the Blue Strike mercenary crew. Those others were simply in the way. And you were incidental.”

“That’s a touch insulting,” Ayna said. “Did you kill any of those Bastard Browns?”

“I am not an assassin.”

“And do you not have a name?”

“Kavia Sari,” was the curt response.

“Right. You folks use cover names. Do you have a face, at least?”

“Bid for empathy: Thirty-three,” the Hunter told her. “The cowl stays for now.”

Ayna felt a finger being hooked under the metal collar, and the Hunter tugged on it a little.

“Let us talk business.”

“Are you sure you’re in the right business?” Ayna asked. “Because I know there are people who’d pay good money for this kind of treatment.”

“Humour: Forty-seven.”

“I can’t tell if this is the most or least interesting conversation I’ve ever-”

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A finger pressed against her lips.

“My only solid lead on Blue Strike was that they are after whatever the Addax is transporting. Now I have lost them, and the Addax. Where is that delivery headed?”

This really felt like a moment to slump back, but she was already firmly restrained in place.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The captain, or admiral if you will, didn’t share that kind of information with fresh hires.”

Kavia Sari released the collar and stepped back. Ayna braced herself for another electric shock, but several breaths passed without incident.

“We each have two options,” the woman said. “I can return to core-space, deliver you to the authorities, and just barely cover the energy costs for my ship and repairs to my armour. Or I can endure further expenses by continuing to hunt Blue Strike.”

There was a silent beat.

“Have you been to Golga 3?” the Hunter asked.

“I’ve heard the name, but no,” Ayna asked, then immediately wondered whether she should have lied.

“It is a lesser thoroughfare station. It is at the crossing of several lanes, but has fallen on hard times. Now it is a hub for underworld activity.”

“Sounds like my kind of place.”

“Precisely.”

“And yours too, let’s face it.” Ayna added.

“Kavian Hunters are not welcome there.”

“You could just... you know... take off that very distinctive armour.”

“No,” the woman said firmly. “We do not do that.”

“Oh... I’m willing to bet that you do, but just say you don’t so people won’t expect it.”

“I have word that Blue Strike has contacts there,” the Hunter went on. “I also have reliable word that their group currently numbers seven. I would wager the other four were at some other location, hoping to intercept that shipment. And so either Blue Strike members or a message from them will pass through that station soon. That is where you can come in. Help me find the mercenaries a second time and I will cut you loose.”

“I don’t suppose you’d cut me in?” Ayna asked.

“No. Freedom is treasure enough, I feel.”

At the moment Ayna couldn’t really disagree. She took a breath.

“So that’s the deal? I get the info you need and you let me go?”

“Once I have them in my custody I will let you go. I do not intend for this journey to cost me money.”

“Or...” Ayna said, “... you also want whatever it is that has the Blues and Browns so excited, and you’re just saying this to get me to cooperate.”

“The Kavian Code is very strict regarding theft,” Kavia Sari told her. “But I have no evidence of my intent besides that. Either way, your choices remain binary.”

“They do,” Ayna admitted.

She tsk’d.

“Well, I’m no martyr. I’ll take my shot at freedom, thank you.”

“I expected as much. I will state right now that you must do exactly as I tell you. A single escape attempt will void our deal and I shall turn you over to the Mawan Treaty.”

“Noted!” Ayna said chirpily.

“I should also mention that I expect danger.”

“More danger than Dwyyk itself?” Ayna asked pointedly.

“A fair point,” the Hunter replied.

“Thanks. It really is a good conversation winner, when people are complaining about something.”

“We have an agreement, then.”

Ayna whistled.

“Well, this ought to be interesting,” she said. “A sexy Dwyyk scoundrel and no-nonsense Kavian Hunter,” she said dramatically. “Working together in-”

“Indifferent jabber: Thirty-seven.”

“Do I win some kind of prize if I hit all of your categories?” Ayna asked.

“No. Because this is also a good conversation winner,” Kavia Sari said, and Ayna heard a faint beep.

“Wha- oh, come on...” she managed before the cowl slid down over her mouth again. It sealed itself against the front of the collar, plunging her back into silence.

“You have a bathroom break due in forty-five minutes,” the Hunter said through some feature of the cowl. “We will speak more then.”

Faint tremors marked the woman walking away, and shortly after Ayna felt the hum of the ship change slightly as it shifted course and picked up speed.

Lacking anything else to do, she began playing old songs in her head.