It goes like this:

Ajax is usually really, really good at his job but it takes just one fuck up for him to be demoted and tossed to the solar sharks.

"So—why me?" he asks, dragging his fingers across the crisp edge of Pierro's desk. He refuses to look at the man, obstinate until the bitter edge.

Pierro doesn't immediately answer, he just sighs, steeples his fingers together, and watches Ajax for a too-long moment. That gaze bores into him. Tartagalia nearly sweats under the weight of those ice-blue eyes that barely blink. Finally, he speaks, starting with his title. "Tartaglia, you know why."

Ajax laughs bitterly. "So she's throwing me to the dogs?"

A snort. "Of course, not. Truth be told, she thinks you are the only one suited for this job."

Doubtful. Ajax finally looks at Pierro's wrinkled and ancient face. "Oh, I'm sure," he drawls. "Nothing like sending your problem child out to the far reaches of the galaxy."

Pierro's jaw tightens. "You should be thankful, boy. Were it me, you'd be dead."

Ajax knows that, but even the Tsaritsa... He is loyal to her above all, but Ajax remains wary. This job feels off, all hush-hush, don't ask questions, just do as you are told and lay low. Ajax isn't the type to lay low, though. Ajax is loud, rambunctious, and shows off, addicted to the attention, and the thrill that runs through his veins as others watch. What is the point of power if no one knows? What is the point of being the best, of being godlike if you can't put on a show?

"Shall I remind you of the terms?" asks Pierro, pretending to shuffle through paperwork as if he hasn't memorized every detail.

"Can I stop you?" snarks Ajax, knowing that he can't.

Pierro is the only man on this planet who insists on parchment and pens instead of a trusty holo-screen. Computer trails, thinks Ajax. Unreliable. Easy to hack. You'll learn one day, boy. Ajax rolls his eyes at the thought.

"You are to escort some cargo across the known Galaxy."

"Joy."

Pierro shoots him a look and Ajax gives him a very rude gesture in response.

"You will meet the ship in Ritou—"

"Ah, a backwater spaceport. At least it'll feel like home."

"Tartaglia." A warning. Ajax spares the man another hesitant glance and decides that it's better to shut up and behave. None of the Harbingers get along and are openly hostile with each other, even—but Pierro is one of three that Tartaglia truly would consider being fearful of. The others are minor annoyances. The old man, though... even Ajax doesn't know what exactly lurks underneath that wrinkled skin. He's never seen him take any duties outside of Snezhnaya Prime.

"As I was saying—you'll meet with the Alcor in Ritou, and from there you will transport the cargo—"

"And what is the cargo?" cuts in Ajax, forgetting that he was supposed to keep his mouth shut.

Pierro's jaw twitches as if he's swallowing an insult down. "Even I do not know that," he says coolly. "Her Majesty would be the one to consult on such matters, which you are more than welcome to try."

No, absolutely not. It may be by the Tsaritsa's grace that Ajax hasn't been stripped of his title and eliminated but he isn't about to push his luck.

"That's what I thought," muses Pierro as if reading his mind. "You will see the cargo safely transported to Celestia. All the paperwork is in order. They will be waiting for you there."

That's the biggest red-flag of all. Celestia. Ajax is far from a normal man, but even the likes of him aren't typically allowed in such a place. Celestia is the holiest seat of the known Galaxy, it's where the Primordial one rules from their throne; where beings of godhood retire upon their invitation.

Ajax has long since prayed to find himself amongst those living there. Never thought his first glimpse would be as a glorified delivery boy.

"You will be subtle," says Pierro then, his words quiet and sharp like Ajax's Hydro daggers. "You will do this task quietly and efficiently."

"I'm the worst choice for this. If you need someone subtle—" Ajax spits the word in annoyance. "—then send the old banker." The idea of Pantalone slumming it on a cargo ship is hilarious and Ajax can't hold back the soft chortle he lets loose.

Pierro is unamused. He clicks his tongue, shuffles around those useless papers again, and says, "This is your last chance. I don't need to remind you of that."

Ajax swallows. No, he doesn't. Ajax is hanging on by a thread after drowning Liyue Harbor by raising one of their old gods from his watery grave. It'd been brilliant. Masterfully executed. He'd immediately received sanctions for endangering the people on the damned moon without prior authorization—which Ajax still refutes. Obviously, they'd be at risk. You can't send him on assignment and expect little to no casualties. His job had been to disrupt the glow of cash into the bank of Liyue, not worry about the people who live there.

"Tartaglia."

"Yeah, I hear you."

Pierro sighs, aggrieved. "I... look. You are the youngest—"

"Gee, you just love to remind me, don't you?"

"I was going to compliment your might, but perhaps it'd fall on deaf ears." Ajax looks at him tiredly. Pierro hums, shoving his paperwork into a folder before dropping it into a desk drawer. "I agree with you, by the way—you are a terrible choice for this. That being said, you are crafty. You are charismatic, and that is something that many of us Harbingers lack. This job requires camaraderie with strangers. Use your strengths to your advantage, just be... quieter about it."

Ajax snorts. "No one likes me."

"We Harbingers don't, no." Pierror rubs his face, looking rather aged. But then he smirks. "The same, however, can't be said about others. Now shoo. You don't have long before you're off."

Ajax doesn't need to be told twice.

#

"I don't like it."

Ajax has always loved Katya's incredibly blunt personality. She doesn't help him pack, just sits at the edge of his bed and watches him, arms crossed over her chest. Her mask is tossed to the side and she looks tired. Babysitting him is a rough job, even he can admit.

"I don't either, but—"

"But."

Ajax tosses a handful of shirts into an old and busted suitcase. "What am I supposed to do? Say no?"

Katya's mouth purses. "I'm just saying that we'll have to be careful. The Galaxy is in a precarious state and war could break out at a pin drop."

Annoyingly true. Teyvat has seen its fair share of power struggles but the one looming on the horizon has been lurking ever since the end of the First Archon War. Missing Archons, withering spots of space and time—the known Galaxy is falling apart in places as the Second Archon War sits at a stalemate.

Ajax sighs, rubbing his temple. "I've gotta wonder what's so important that it has to be delivered on the down-low."

"And to Celestia, no less." Katya whistles at the thought. "Never thought I'd find myself there."

"We won't linger. They won't let us. This sort of gig is get in and get out, asap."

Katya doesn't trust it. She sits there, wringing her fingers, a frown settled firmly on her face. Ajax knows that look and he knows just why she's so wary. It isn't without reason. The concern is warranted, and a core reason as to why he's wary as well.

Finally, she looks at him and says, "You know that I'm coming with you, right?"

Ajax snorts. "More babysitting? Are you giving you a bonus this time?"

Katya nearly laughs—nearly. Any crack in her calculated demeanor is always considered a win, and Ajax doesn't bother hiding a grin.

"At least you find humor in this."

"Well, I have to, right? The alternative is..."

Well, neither of them wants to think of what the alternative is.

Katya nods. "Like I said, I don't like it. And I won't go into more detail here—" Smart. There are eyes and ears everywhere on Snezhnaya. Betrayal and backstabbing are as common as the need for basic supplies and food, and even Ajax can't fault anyone for being desperate.

His parents—

He doesn't think of his parents. But Katya does, reading his expression like the back of her hand.

"Did you tell them?"

"No." A pause. "Kinda. I told Tonia that I was going to sell toys in the Eastern Quadrant."

Katya has the decency to find amusement in the white lie. "That'll go over well."

"My parents won't care either way."

She hums softly. "Yeah, I know."

Katya watches him shove more clothing into his luggage, the silence comfortable. Then, she asks, "Any idea as to what it could be?"

"Honestly? Weapons. That's the only thing that makes sense."

"But why bring those to Celestia? She can wipe entire planets off of the space charts with nothing more than a few buttons."

It's only happened once but the Galaxy hasn't forgotten the devastation of Khaenri'ah, which is why no one does shit as they let the War just stagnate. Weapons—it's a flimsy excuse, but it's a thought. Other than that, Ajax cannot fathom what could be so important that it requires so much secrecy and a Harbinger as an escort.

Fishy. So, so, fishy. Red flags everywhere.

Still, he's desperate to regain his rank, so he'll take whatever shitty job they hand him.

"Do you think..." Katya hesitates. "Certainly they wouldn't orchestrate something to..."

Remove him. Ajax had thought about that too. Wouldn't be the first time they've dispatched a high-ranking officer in such a way. Harbingers are so well-known that they are hard to fire, so a job meant to remove him isn't unfeasible.

"I'll take the risk," he replies.

"Of course, sir."

Ajax doesn't pack much, just a handful of clothing, a cloak, and his holo-reader. His suitcase clicks shut and he smooths his fingers over the worn curves of it. He rarely replaces his things despite his good salary. Most of his money is diverted home to his parents even though they don't talk to him much. They're too scared, both of him and his bosses, which can't be blamed.

He shoots Katya a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Need help packing?" he asks.

She doesn't, but tells him yes, knowing that he needs a distraction.

#

"What a dump," says Ajax, letting his intrusive thought win over propriety.

"Sir," hisses Katya, utterly appalled. She digs an elbow into his side sharply, and Ajax whines at the brutal hit. Only her. Only Katya would risk such a thing because she knows he won't retaliate. He pouts, rubbing at the sore spot, his mouth opening for a quick retort—

Only to be interrupted.

"I wasn't sure what to expect, but I thought a Harbinger would have more manners."

Ajax and Katya turn to find a tall woman clad in a mechanic's jumpsuit. She laughs, boisterously, and reaches out to slap Ajax across the back hard enough to make him wheeze. "I'm Beidou, kid."

Beidou. Just who they were looking for. Ajax plants a falsely sweet smile on his face and asks, "So it's true that all pirates wear eyepatches then?

"Cargo Freighter," she corrects primly.

Ajax knows better. Beidou is definitely a pirate—or at least a smuggler. No one in their right mind would take on a direct request from the Tsaritsa herself, and her Royal Highness would prefer to hire someone less than squeaky clean.

He's done his research. The Alcor is an older vessel known to be quick and discreet. The crew doesn't ask questions and they don't get involved in politics. Perfect for the job. All the more reason to be careful, but he'll play by Captain Beidou's rules, if only for Katya's safety. She can take care of herself but the extra padding doesn't hurt.

They pick their way across the short docks the wooden planks creaking underneath their boots. Ajax's heavy bag digs into his shoulder, and he shifts it about.

"And here's the Alcor," says Beidou with a sweeping gesture.

If the dock is a dump, the Alcor is...

"Vintage," says Katya, her tone choked with amusement.

Ajax blinks. "That," he says, "is not a Vision Class Cargo Vessel. That is—"

"A Sovereign Class Mining Ship, I think. Predates the First Archon war, right?"

Beidou's mouth twitches. "Look, she may be old—"

"Old? She's decrepit. She looks like she can barely fly."

"Looks aren't everything, yeah? Would you like to know what I think you look like? A Harbinger they told me—that's who'd be helping me on this job. Not a snot-nosed kid who can't even brush his hair. Those boots almost look too big on you. Tell me, can you even use that Vision?"

Rude. Ajax's fingers twitch and it takes everything to reign in the Abyssal energy that floods his veins. "Are you saying that I'm not a Harbinger?"

"Not at all," replies Beidou with a smirk. "I see the emblem. I know it's real. But I gotta wonder just how desperate the Tsaritsa has gotten if she's recruiting kids."

Ajax blanches at that. Even Katya stills, her fingers going for the dagger hidden at her waist. The go-ons in Snezhnaya aren't well-known to those outside of the planet. It's remote. There isn't a lot of news in and out, and the Tsaritsa heavily controls what others learn. But the jab is pointed. Beidou waits for his response, watching him carefully, dressing him up and down.

She must've smuggled a lot in her years.

"Some kids don't have a lot of options," he finally replies. "And for those kids, it's a better gig than freezing solid out in the permafrost."

Beidou's expression softens. "I didn't mean harm, kid, it was just honest curiosity. Believe it or not, I know just what desperation can do to a person."

Right. Smugglers aren't smugglers because they enjoy the job. Beidou's probably taken her share of dubious work just to keep her fridge full. Katya relaxes and the moment eases as Ajax mutters an apology for his tone. "Sorry, I just—whatever. Doesn't matter. Full disclosure, I don't even know why I'm here."

Beidou tilts her head. "For the cargo, right?"

"No, no, I know that. I just don't know why."

Her gaze narrows slightly. "You don't know what we're transporting? And here I thought you'd let me know."

"Privileged information," says Ajax. "Her majesty's words, not mine. Trust me, I submitted a formal request, asking."

Beidou laughs at that and slaps his back again. "Well, can't blame you for trying. Come on, I'll show you around. I promise she only looks like a nightmare."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"It's about what's on the inside."

"And the fact that no one would question a ship like this," says Katya, trailing behind them as they begin to walk once more. "She's old, but not uncommon enough to draw attention."

Beidou flashes her a handsome grin. "I like her. Can I keep her?"

"No." Ajax snorts. "Besides, she's too busy babysitting me."

"So you're trouble, then?"

"Why do you think I'm here? Do you think this is the sort of job that a Harbinger does on the regular?"

Beidou falls quiet and assesses him once more. "I always like the rowdy ones," she finally says, "but I'll remind you that I've got a crew here. We're working-class folk and I expect to make it out in one piece."

"Good. I do too."

Ajax doesn't like the way that the loading ramp of the Alcor lurches underneath his weight, the metal thin and flimsy. And he doesn't trust the Captain either—Ajax can count on one hand whom he does, and only one person isn't in his immediate family.

He shares a knowing glance with Katya who just nods, hiding a smile behind her palm.