Ayna approached Kavia Sari at a casual walking pace. All the action was over and only cleanup remained. The Hunter had finished walking the last of the mercenaries over to where she’d stored the other two at the base of one of the pillars.

All had been cuffed, collared and cowled, and had triggered enough shocks to mostly stop thrashing about. The tether running between the collars of the pair gave them little individual space, but they had enough to slump with helpless, desperate fury showing in their body language.

Ayna couldn’t work up much sympathy.

“Grenade out?” the woman said.

“I just... reacted, really,” Ayna replied. “Did you have things under control? Did I embarrass myself? Because I kind of suspect you had things under control.”

“I am rather certain I did,” the Hunter told her. “But overconfidence is the bane of fighters. Who can say for certain?”

“You know, you are SO boringly rational that it becomes fun.”

“You have said things to that effect.”

The Hunter moved the last mercenary behind the other two and forced him to his knees. Then she added a tether to the front of his collar and fitted it to the back of the one in front of him.

“Sooo... three,” Ayna said as she stopped. “Instead of seven.”

“Slightly disappointing,” the Hunter said. “But this is still a big payout. And I was willing to settle for three back on Chukata Mog.”

“So you were. Or one. So...”

Ayna pointed at the coffle of blind, deaf and muted men.

“Do you want me at the front or the back? Or is your word actually good for something?”

That crimson helmet turned to face her, and Ayna’s only weapon and currency was a smile. The Hunter then turned her attention to the thin plastic ties she’d used to bind the men’s ankles before abandoning them.

The collar around Ayna’s throat opened with a click. She let out a satisfied breath.

“A deal is a deal,” Sari said.

“Sure. Sure it is.”

Ayna reached up for the damned thing.

“I just-”

The collar snapped shut again.

Ayna froze in place and stared at the bounty hunter. The woman turned to face her again, taking her in for a few long seconds. Then she touched something on her gauntlet and the collar opened again.

Ayna snatched it off.

“Oh, that is funny,” she said. “That is very, very funny.”

“I am glad you think so,” the Hunter said, and returned to her task of giving each man enough slack to walk.

“What was that about you not having a sense of humour?”

“I do not recall stating any such thing.”

Sari stood up.

“You should have seen your face.”

“I’m sure it was just fantastic,” Ayna said, and now finally rubbed her neck.

The Hunter held her hand out for the collar and Ayna returned it. The woman then detached a small pouch from her suit and handed it over.

“The rest of your belongings.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

The Hunter started pulling and prodding the men into getting to their feet.

“Are you going to be okay with three of them to deal with?” Ayna asked.

“I have dealt with more.”

The one in the rear reacted to being touched with an attempt at a headbutt. The cowl completely muffled his scream as he got shocked, and he silently flopped down onto the ground like a deboned fish. Ayna couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

The Hunter let him stew for a few breaths before pulling him to his feet. Then she fitted a leash to the man in the lead and wrapped it tightly around her fist.

“Well, Ayna of Dwyyk, this has been an interesting partnership.”

“Interesting, yes.”

Ayna hesitated a moment, but then went ahead with what had been on her mind.

“You know, you... were a better host than could be expected.”

“Please do not congratulate me for not being cruel.”

“Just saying it out loud.”

Ayna shifted her feet a little.

“You made it all bearable, is what I’m saying,” she added. “All things considered. Parts of it were even fun.”

“And you are more pleasant company than I am used to, I must admit,” the Hunter told her.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider hiring me?” Ayna asked through a grin. “Actually cutting me into those giant payouts?”

“I get those payouts for facing great danger.”

“More danger than Dwyyk?” Ayna asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You left Dwyyk.”

“I... did. And I suppose a steady partner would undercut your whole ‘lone wandering badass’ thing.”

“I suppose it would,” the Hunter said. “You know... a bounty as small as yours, for minor theft, will go to the backlist in about two months. That means any hunters will have to specifically look it up to find out about it. Assuming you behave yourself, and do not incur an additional price.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Yes, Mother.”

The Hunter was silent for a breath. Ayna suspected she was smiling.

“Farewell, then.”

The woman tugged on the leash, and the beaten men behind her began a slow, hobbled march. Ayna considered tripping the last one, but it seemed a touch too mean. She settled for patting him on the head as he passed.

“See you around, Kavia Sari.”

“Potentially,” the Hunter said as she led the procession away. “You have your freedom, Ayna of Dwyyk. Treasure it.”

“I will, I will.”

Ayna glanced at the ground. The mercenaries’ weapons were stacked, and tied together by one of those plastic strips.

“Hey, what about those?”

“Oh, I would normally bring them along. But my hands are rather full.”

“They look new. Valuable.”

“Yes. They do.”

The Hunter and her captives vanished around the pillar.

# # #

Herdis had brought her little medpack along and was finishing applying basic patches to their collective burn wounds when Ayna came walking over.

“Little sneak girl!” Bers shouted happily, then winced a bit. He was Herdis’s last patient.

“That’s me!” the Dwyyk replied chirpily. “Are you guys alright?”

“More than Blue Strike is, at least,” Gaylen said.

“Yeah, they looked a bit glum.”

Ayna pointed back the way she’d come.

“Pooor guys.”

“Welcome back,” Jaquan said.

“Yeah,” Kiris said, and walked up to the Dwyyk and put an arm around her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Herdis said. “Welcome.”

“Mm!”

“So, what happened?” Gaylen asked her.

“She... got me,” Ayna told him. “Just after I fell. She took me to her ship and gave me the option to either help her find those Blue Strike guys again, or be turned in. So... I helped her out. We... I... found out where they were going to spring their next ambush on you, and we made our way here just before all that nasty shooting started.”

Gaylen nodded.

“You know, she could have been after the cylinder for herself.”

Ayna shrugged.

“The thought occurred to me. I even brought it up with her. But I could either go to prison or forge ahead.”

She met his gaze earnestly.

“I’m not some martyr, Admiral. All I could do was hope for the best.”

He nodded again.

“So, am I off the ship?” she asked.

“Since you were honest, no,” he said. “I’m not a hero either. And it all worked out.”

He could tell she appreciated it, although she quickly covered up with some more of that cheer they’d all come to know.

“Goodie!”

“Your cut of the pirate loot is on the ship.”

“Double goodie!”

“And I see you’ve brought some more,” he added, and pointed at her armful of quality weapons.

“Yeah. Fancier than last time, though. Do you know someone on this planet who’ll be willing to buy them?”

“We’ll find someone.”

Gaylen turned to face the rest of his crew.

“Right. Back to the tram, everyone. I’m just going to go fetch the cylinder.”

He turned and took a step, stumbling as he did so. His cuts and bruises and burns had had time to catch up with him.

“I’ll go with you,” Jaquan said. “You look ready to keel over dead.”

“Why, thank you, Jaquan,” Gaylen said sarcastically. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“Yes, I think we’ll need to give you your own turn in the pod,” Kiris said at their backs.

“Pod?” Ayna said.

“We had a little adventure without you,” the woman told her.

“I’m willing to bet mine was better.”

“Well, let’s hear it...”

Their voices faded away as Gaylen and Jaquan moved in one direction and the rest moved in the other, putting ever more ruins between them.

His friend let out a slow sigh of relief.

“What a mess,” he then said.

“As I have told myself repeatedly.”

He glanced to the side at the engineer.

“I didn’t want to whine in front of the crew. But... yeah. This has been a tough one.”

“They do say good things are worth hardships.”

“Sure. It’s just a shame the latter doesn’t guarantee the former.”

They reached that doorway he’d passed shortly after coming to by the transference platform

“Well, these are the best kinds of difficulties: They’re in the past,” Jaquan said as Gaylen hobbled over to the doorway.

“Almost,” Gaylen said. “We’re not quite-”

There was a click.

“Can you tell me what this is, you son of a whore?” Eldin asked.

He stepped out of the doorway, with the cylinder in one hand and something clenched in the other.

“That...” Gaylen said slowly, “... is a demolition charge. With a custom dead-man’s-trigger.”

“Yes, it is.”

The boss of the Brecke Browns had had artificial skin hurriedly applied to about half his face and the hand that held the bomb, a mark of the blaze that clearly hadn’t quite consumed him. As he walked a bit further out Gaylen also noticed a limp. But his gaze was strong and furious.

“You like insulting me, Gaylen. You shot me and set me on fire, and my boys were shot and sliced. But I survived. I always survive. And I knew just as well as the Blues where you were headed. And all I had to do was to wait for either group to wipe out the other. And now I’m ruining your day.”

“Put that down!” Jaquan said, and a quick glance confirmed that he’d raised his gun.

“Hold your fire!” Gaylen shouted.

“Yes, hold your damn fire,” Eldin said contemptuously and waved the bomb above his head. “These have a large radius. They’re not meant to be used as weapons.”

He chuckled darkly.

“But sometimes you have to think big. When you’re the boss.”

“We can’t let him leave with that cylinder, Gaylen!” Jaquan insisted.

“Then kill all of us, why don’t you?” the gang leader replied.

He waved the bomb again.

“Go on. Go on, Jaquan. Kill all of us.”

He continued moving, putting a bit of distance between them.

“What about you, Mr. Independent?” he said to Gaylen. “Are you going to rush me, see if you can grab the trigger before we all turn to ash?”

“No,” Gaylen said simply, staying perfectly still.

“You know the stakes, Gaylen!” Jaquan insisted. “We’ll have Lanson to deal with if we lose the cylinder!”

“Hah,” Eldin said maliciously. “Well, you shouldn’t have made a deal with that sick monster.”

He continued moving, gradually making his way to a standing doorway.

“I suppose you two had better get on board your shiny new ship and start fleeing, to the far reaches. Where neither he nor the Browns will ever find you!”

“The Brecke Browns won’t last, Eldin,” Gaylen told him evenly.

The man bared his teeth.

“We lost some good boys at Chukata,” Eldin said. “But this will make things right.”

He lifted the cylinder.

“We’ll get more recruits, more influence and you, Gaylen, are going to be very sorry you didn’t just put up with me as leader. There is a reason I’m the boss, and you are an errand-runner.”

“You talk too much, Eldin.”

The man chuckled again.

“Maybe I do.”

He’d reached a street surrounded by standing walls, and now stopped for a moment.

“Bye,” he said.

Then he backed into it, and Gaylen heard him jog away.

“Gaylen!” Jaquan said as he hurried over. His face was rigid, his eyes wide.

“Relax, Jaquan.”

“Relax?!”

“Relax,” Gaylen repeated. “I switched the stickers right after Lanson gave me the cylinders. It was the only time I could be positive I wasn’t being observed.”

He turned to his friend and grinned.

“The real one is still on the ship. In case of some trouble on the last stretch.”

Jaquan looked somewhat stunned. Gaylen patted him on the shoulder.

“Hey. That’s why I’m the captain.”