Cataclysm ─── The Mandalorian. ¹

xxix. innocent lives

Don't forget your own advice so quickly, she thinks at Din, wishing she was able to chide him aloud.

Their pace quickens as they wind through the New Republic prison ship, the ivory walls set with bright fluorescent lights that make the color seem to glow. Cells full of inmates remain quiet as they pass, though some hang their fingers, curled into fists, from the narrow gaps in the circular doors, eyes hard as shards of metal as they stare. One man leers at Zoya as she walks near, greasy hair slicked away from his forehead.

Zoya flips him off as they pass, flicking her eyes to the other side of the hallway. A man dressed in all gray steps closer to his door, eyes widening. It almost looks like an old Empire uniform, but she can't be sure, as they keep moving without stopping.

"I don't like this," Din mutters from the front of the group.

Xi'an shakes her head. "You always were paranoid."

"Is that true, Mando?" Mayfeld mocks him. "Were you always paranoid?"

An inmate slams against the bars of his door at that same moment, and Mayfeld jumps back in fear, making Zoya snort. He whirls on her, blaster still brandished as Xi'an hisses at the prisoner, and Din tenses, ready to slam him to the ground if he tries anything.

"What was that?" Mayfeld snaps, walking backwards and keeping his eyes on her, hard and cold.

Zoya shakes her head but doesn't bother to conceal the amusement brightening her features. "You wouldn't get it." Idiot.

The tension in Din's shoulders smooths out as Mayfeld turns back around, re-focusing on the path stretching out before them. In an attempt to refocus, he pulls his mind away from the scenarios he'd begun to imagine, variations of a reality where Mayfeld fired at Zoya and soon thereafter lost his life.

Zero's voice crackles over the comms as they near a split in the passageway. "Approaching control room. Make a left at the next juncture."

After Mayfeld approaches the turn, he presses his back against the wall, peering around it before anyone moves forward, scanning for threats awaiting their arrival. His nod is so quick that Zoya almost misses it, but Din shoots forward. He darts around the corner with his blaster raised as he moves to the opposite wall of the hallway, beckoning the rest of them forward with his other hand once he's sure the coast is clear.

Zoya keeps the group in front of her as she goes around the corner, wary of everyone but Din. They haven't walked two feet before a tiny, rolling droid skitters around the other end of the passage, beeping to itself as it goes. Every weapon they hold is aimed at it in a split second, and Zoya's heart hammers against her ribs.

"What? It's just a little mousey," Burg drones, teeth baring in a sort of twisted grin. Hiding his blaster behind his back, the Devaronian inches closer, holding out one of his large hands. "Come here, little mousey."

Din drops back to stand beside Zoya, both of them holding their weapons tightly. She gives him a look that reads, what the hell is going on? to which he merely shakes his head. In unison, they both look slowly back towards Burg as he reaches out further for the small droid, weapon still hidden behind him.

"Burg!" Mayfeld snaps.

"Mousey, come here. Come here." The horned beast ignores him, moving towards the droid still.

"Burg!"

The mouse droid zooms away down the hall with a chorus of beeps. Burg straightens, staring after it, then lifts his blaster and fires, exploding the droid without a second thought to worry about their concealment.