NINETEEN.
always strike first!
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"Fucking shit!" Zoya yelps, hitting the hard, paneled floor of the Razor Crest.

She'd been taking a quiet, much-needed nap in the back of the ship, dreaming of soft green fields and piles of yellow flowers and sunlight sparking off Beskar and a warm, comfortable bed, when all of a sudden, the ship had lurched dramatically, sending her flying off the bench she'd curled up on.

"What the hell?" She rubs her elbow where it had slammed against the ground, wincing as a twinge of pain radiates through her arm. "Mando?" Zoya yells, raising her voice to be heard from the depth of the ship.

No response.

"Mando!"

The ship shudders again, and a tendril of fear snakes down Zoya's spine. Mind whirling, she darts to the ladder, climbing up from the belly of the ship, boots making clanging sounds on the metal rungs. When she reaches the top, Zoya darts through the hallways, making her way directly towards the cockpit.

"Mando?" she calls again, bursting through the doorway. He wrenches the ship to the side, and a bolt spirals past the window, glowing against the onyx backdrop of the galaxy. "What the fuck is going on?"

"We're being hunted," he grits out.

Zoya steps to the child, who stands whimpering in a makeshift seat they'd built it in the corner. Touching his head comfortingly, she keeps her eyes on the windows, where twins of bright red bolts can be seen, flying past them. "Who's hunting us?" she asks, nerves swirling within her stomach.

Before he can answer, a voice crackles through the chamber from the comms. "Hand over the child, Mando." A burst of electricity causes sparks to fly in the cabin, and Zoya ducks, hunkering over the child to protect him. "I might let you live."

"Fucking asshole," Zoya snarls. "Shoot back and take him down!"

"Trying . . . to . . . evade." He spits out the words in a stilted fashion, piloting the Razor Crest in a wide, sweeping arc.

The whole ship shudders as it takes a hit. Zoya stumbles to the side, loosing her balance. The child cries out in fear, and a flash of bright red spots before her eyes. Bracing herself, Zoya stands beside him, throwing an incensed look at the back of Mando's head. He pulls the yoke back, directing the ship higher, stars flickering in the distance as they drop out of view.

"Did you lose him?"

"No—" he begins, exasperated, then a loud crash thunders through the Razor Crest.

Immediately, an alarm begins to squeal, crimson lights going off within the cockpit as the whole ship lurches to the side, crashing and shaking. And again, she nearly falls, the blaring of the alarm a soundtrack to the anxiety thundering through her head. It's obvious that they've been hit, and when Zoya throws a glance towards the panel in front of the Mandalorian, it shows a diagram of the ship, with one engine glowing a dangerous scarlet. His hand shoots out to press a few buttons as red light spills through the cockpit.

"Hold on," he says.

Zoya grabs on to the back of the chair the child's makeshift seat is attached to, fingers digging into the upholstery as Mando wrenches the yoke sideways, flipping the ship upside down in a wide loop barreling straight down. The bounty hunter keeps on their tail easily, firing pairs of bolts at them every other second.

"Come on," he mutters to himself.

Eyes focused on the stars, Zoya says, "You can do this."

Renewed energy explodes within the Mandalorian at her words, and he pilots the ship with a vengeance, right as their hunter's voice echoes through the comms once more, arrogant and full of spite.

"I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

"Who the hell does this guy think he is?" Zoya hisses, eyes flying wide at the man's use of Mando's words.

The other hunter's ship's bolts mercilessly pummel the back of the Razor Crest, igniting a burst of flame from both of its engines. He yanks the ship to an abrupt stop, and Zoya nearly tumbles forward again, grabbing onto the edge of the doorway as even the child and the Mandalorian lurch in their seats.

The other ship slams into the top of the Razor Crest at its sudden halt, whirling through the space before them, setting itself dead center in the Mandalorian's sights. Voice low and dangerous, he says, "That's my line." Then, he fires.

One singular shot sends the other ship erupting into a ball of flame, debris shooting out into space like tails of a firework.

"Holy shit," Zoya mumbles, staring at the cloud of fire hovering in the blank canvas of the galaxy.

Mando twists to glance back at her before flipping a few switches. "What?"

"You," she says unthinkingly, then clarifies, face heating, "That shot you just made. Pretty fucking good."

Underneath the helmet, his mouth pulls into a smirk. "Thanks." His eyes go to the diagram on the panel in front of him as he pushes a couple buttons on the controls. "Losing fuel," he says, the beeping of an alarm punctuating his words.

"That's bad," Zoya says.

The Mandalorian powers down the Razor Crest's engine, gritting his teeth. "Yeah. Bad." The child giggles behind them, lifting his tiny fingers in the air. Zoya runs a hand across his head, smiling down at him just as Mando throws another look back. The sight halts his movements for a brief second, and he smiles, the pulsating of his heart stopping, expression regrettably concealed by his visor. Twisting in his seat, he looks to Zoya. "Will you flip that switch over there?"

She turns to look where he's gesturing and moves forward, fingers hovering over the silver controls. "This one?" He nods, and she presses it down.

Red lights glow across the panel, and Mando turns back to the controls in front of him, pressing a few buttons both above his head and below. The scarlet glow across the Beskar turns into white once more, and the engine sputters to life, pushing the Razor Crest forward once again, aiming at a small, glowing planet in the distance.

"Are we gonna make it?" Zoya asks, stepping away from the child to rest a hand on the back of the pilot's seat.

"Is that doubt I hear?"

Zoya scoffs. "Of course not. How would I ever be able to doubt the limitless, undefeatable, awe-inspiring Mandalorian?"

Turning the yoke slightly, Mando snorts. "So genuine."

"I try." After a short pause, her hand slips from the curve of his chair, brushing along his shoulder as it falls back to her side. "So . . . are we gonna make it?"

"Yes," he says, "was that not obvious?"

"No, it really wasn't." Zoya taps a finger on the top of his helmet. "You're not always easy to read, you know?"

Her words summon a different memory within him, one not so lighthearted. Moonlight caught in her eyes, inches beneath his. A tug in his chest, begging him to close the distance. Stepping away and leaving her in the dark, unsure of his own heart and desires.

"I think I'm an open book," he says.

"A joke?" She feigns surprise. "What a rare occurrence. I'll have to write this down."

"Shut up," he says. "I'm trying to fly."

Holding up her hands in surrender, Zoya steps away dramatically. "Fine, fine. I'll leave. Wouldn't want to interrupt all of what I'm sure are genius thoughts going through that thick helmet of yours."

"Remember when I threatened to carbon freeze you?" Mando asks. Zoya pivots on her heel, jaw dropping open. "That's still an option if you don't keep yourself under control."

"You wouldn't dare—"

He turns in his seat after flipping a switch over his head as they approach the orange-brown planet, tilting his head to the side and eyeing her. "I wouldn't?"

Zoya crosses her arms. "Nope."

"What makes you think that?"

"If you didn't want me around you would've turned me in to the Guild," she says smugly, lifting her chin.

The Mandalorian finds that he has nothing to fire back with in return and just stares at her for a beat as she smirks, knowing she's one hundred percent right. Luckily, a voice comes over the comms at that exact moment.

"This is Mos Eisley Tower," the operator says. "We are tracking you. Head for bay three-five, over."

"Copy that," Mando says in return, pressing another button on the panel hanging over the pilot's seat, finding himself relieved that he doesn't have to find anything to say back to Zoya. "Locked in for three-five."

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The engines sputter as they fly lower over Tatooine, heading over the port. Smoke curls off the ship in dark clouds, and the ship crackles and lurches as Mando lands it deftly in the middle of the bay they'd been directed to.

"We have to hide the child," he says, standing. "He can't come out with us."

"Won't leaving him behind make him more vulnerable than if we just took him with us to protect him?" Zoya objects.

Mando shakes his head. "Then everyone here will see him. Bounty hunters will swarm us in minutes. We can't take that chance."

Zoya's jaw clicks. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

With the child safely hidden in the belly of the ship, Zoya and the Mandalorian descend to the ramp after it lowers. Droids gather tools below, clattering to each other as they walk towards the Razor Crest. A bolt hits the ground at their feet, and as they startle, Zoya jumps herself, eyes flying to Mando, who holds his blaster, directing it right at them.

"Fuck." She exhales, relaxing.

"You're jumpy," Mando says.

"You just fired a fucking blaster with no warning, of course I'm gonna jump," Zoya mutters as they continue down the ramp.

"Hey!" A high voice thunders through the port. "Hey!" The droids skitter away as a woman storms out of the structure around the circular bay. "You damage one of my droids, you'll pay for it!"

"Just keep them away from my ship," Mando tells her, jabbing a finger towards the droids in question as they scramble across the port.

"Yeah? You think that's a good idea, do you?" The woman lifts her chin to stare up at the Razor Crest, her cloud of dark curls floating about her head.

"He's a little cranky," Zoya offers, receiving a scathing look from the Mandalorian that she promptly ignores.

The woman looks at her, unimpressed. "Sure. Let's look at your ship." She walks forward and bangs on it loudly, holding a portable screen in one hand. "Look at that," she huffs, holding up a scanner to view the higher portion of the Razor Crest. "Ugh, you got a lot of carbon scoring building up top." She tucks the device away and moves closer, peering into the ship. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in a shootout."

Mando and Zoya exchange a tense glance. She forces a tense laugh, folding her arms tightly. "That's ridiculous."

The Mandalorian just nudges her. "Quiet."

"Special tool for that one," the woman rambles to herself, ignoring them as she reaches inside. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to rotate that. You got a fuel leak! Look at that, this is a mess. How did you even land? That's gonna set you back."

"I've got five hundred Imperial credits," Mando says. He pulls some into view and hands them to the woman, who looks at the money as if it's crumpled up paper.

"That's all you got?" Sighing, she glances over at her droids. "Well, what do you guys think?" They chatter in response. Pursing her lips, the woman turns to look back up at the damaged ship. "Well, that should at least cover the hangar."

"I'll get you your money," Mando says firmly.

The woman narrows her eyes. "I've heard that before."

"Just remember—" he begins tightly.

"Yeah," she cuts him off in exasperation. "No droids—I heard you. You don't have to say it twice."

Zoya lifts her eyebrows meaningfully at the woman as the Mandalorian begins to walk away, trying to rectify the situation as best she can to make sure they're on good terms with the mechanic. "Like I said, he's kind of grumpy. Sorry."

The woman humphs. "I know I wouldn't want to be married to him." She gives Zoya a sympathetic look.

"Wh—" Zoya starts to say, wide-eyed, but Mando steps back out of the building, impatiently waiting for her.

"Zoya. Let's go."

With one last bewildered glance at the woman, who's already stepping away to begin the work, Zoya jogs to catch up with the bounty hunter, sifting the words through her mind. Married? Why would she think we were fucking married?

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and act 2 begins!!