ÂME MORTELLE, din djarin

xiv. warriors of mandalore

        "Do you copy?" The familiar static-entwined echo of an activated comm link greets the eardrums of all within the cargo hold, the voice of what they could easily assume was an Imperial officer crackling through its speaker. Slinging her newfound weapon over her shoulder using the strap connected to such, Eden shifts her gaze upon Bo-Katan, who approaches the newly lifeless body of a trooper; the commlink hooked to their belt. First removing her helmet to ensure the strength of her voice can be heard clear as day, she retrieves the device, lifting it to her lips.

        "I copy." A taunting tone haunts every word of Bo-Katan; born both of pride and arrogance. The corners of her lips are upturned into the outline of a smirk, and, merely from the expression, it was obvious the Mandalorian knew she had already won. "Thanks for packing up all this gear so nicely. Imagine what a division of us can do when we get our hands on what's inside these shiny little boxes."

        "If you think you're going to escape with those weapons, you are sadly mistaken." A voice different to the first responds jaggedly, possessing an authority the first had not. This, Eden ponders, must be the Trawler's captain. "Even if you've managed to jettison a few of those crates, we will comb the entire area until you are hunted down and killed."

        "Oh, we're not jettisoning anything." A smug chuckle crawls from Bo-Katan's lips, before her mocking display of amusement is replaced with the fire of untamed determination. "We're taking the entire ship."

        Albeit only momentarily, Eden basks within the minute glory of being right. As hastily as it'd arisen, she smothers it out, instead casting her curious gaze onto Din. Despite her best estimates of his suspicion, she'd so far been unable to truly know if he expected any foul play upon the other Mandalorians' behalf. And when his head whips toward Bo-Katan – assumingly glaring at her from beneath the veil of his t-visor, it's confirmed he'd not assumed so. "What?"

        Unphased by his adverse reaction, Bo-Katan speaks a few words more through the comm-link, leaving the ship's captain with one final threat. "Put some tea on. We'll be up in a minute."

        From halfway across the cargo-bay area, Din storms toward the woman, his every stride seething with frustration. Halting his movement only when he's but a few steps away from Bo-Katan, he intertwined his gaze with her – arising to the challenge their mutual stare ignites. "This is more than we signed up for."

        "There is something I need if I am to rule Mandalore. Something that was once mine," As every syllable strikes from Bo-Katan's tongue, the darkness of her pupils' acts purely as a reflection of an unspoken affliction laid distantly within her past – balanced only by the flashes of a passion uncontained that pass through the green hues of her iris'. "They know where it is, and soon, so will I. Regardless, we are taking the ship for the battles ahead."

        His head tilted, and his unseen stare growing only more intense, Din seethes, "We got you your weapons. We have to return to our ship with the foundling."

        An eerie smile ghosting over her lips, Bo-Katan steps closer to Din, their faces mere inches apart as the war of their will tip-toes to its crescendo. "If you want my help finding the Jedi, you will help me take this ship."

        The iron-hearts of the pair refusing to budge, a stalemate becomes of them. The other three within the room watch with curiosity as silence befalls the cargo bay, and, while it may not yet be spoken, it's obvious who the winner is to be. Consciously aware of the precious time dwindling as the stand-off goes on, Eden, at last, interjects, "We've already taken everything but the bridge. We can handle a few more troopers."