Chapter Text
Peter Nureyev didn’t let himself relax until the shuttle had left Brahma. Getting down from New Kinshasa had been easier than he’d feared and getting a ship offworld had gone better than he’d hoped. The alarms blared, and it hadn’t helped that he was still covered in (blood, blood, so much blood, Mag’s and the guards’ and none of it his own, but all staining his hands and clothes) the mess of what happened, but he managed to evade everything and slip away. He ran from New Kinshasa, dodging guards and cameras, not pausing until his legs collapsed under him and he rolled into an alleyway to hide. Chest heaving, he laid on his back until his breath slowed, looking up at the stars he’d always dreamed of making it to someday. As he settled back into his body, Peter felt the stickiness of the drying blood still on his face. The reminder of what he’d had to do today shook him again and turned his stomach. He closed his eyes to block out the memories but that only made the images stronger. Blinking hard to try and clear his eyes, swallowing down the nausea and the burning feeling of tears, he rolled over and dragged himself to his feet. He had to get himself cleaned up before anything else.
Dragging himself to a standing position, he limped farther down the alley. Somehow in his mindless running through the city, he’d ended up close to the hideout that he and– the hideout that he’d been staying in. He could wash up and change there, then make his way to the spaceport and get off-world before the government could spread his face across the newstreams.
The empty warehouse office seemed bigger than usual as he slipped in the door, still and quiet. Peter moved quickly, not wanting to waste time and feeling the bite of remorse nipping at his heels. He purposefully did not look at the cot on the other side of the room, washing himself and stuffing what belongings he had into a bag before leaving. Once he’d cleaned up, he blended into the crowd of travellers, trailing just behind a family to disguise himself as just another kid before quietly pocketing someone’s boarding pass and worming his way to the front of the line.
He looked out the window as the ship took off, watching the only world he’d ever known get smaller and smaller. Peter Nureyev would stay on Brahma, remain a specter haunting the officials into maintaining a peace of sorts. Peter No Name however, Peter the Thief, he got off-world relatively unquestioned. And once he was off-world he could disappear. He wasn’t unskilled, he could make his way in life on his own. The galaxy held a promise for him and he was going to take it for all that it was worth.
Vespa fidgeted, checking her knives again and forcing herself to keep her breathing measured and calm. Sighing, she glanced up and down the hall, checked to make sure the security camera’s light was still off, not recording. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the wall to wait. The seconds ticked slowly past and she pushed down the instinct to whisper into her comms to check on Buddy. It’d just be a distraction. And besides, the sensors in that room were so sensitive they might pick up the vibrations of her voice. At this point no news was good news, everything should be according to the plans she and Buddy had drilled together.
The thought didn’t help.
She checked her knives for the nth time again, she’d lost count ages ago, and tried to force herself to settle. A flicker of movement at the end of the hall caught her attention and every muscle in her body tensed slightly. Vespa kept herself from reacting openly to keep from alerting whoever was moving down the hall towards her that she’d noticed them, and counted slowly in her head. As she got to ten there was another flicker as whoever it was darted from one hiding spot to the next, getting closer.
Nonchalantly moving her hand up to push the loose bits of her hair back from her face, she pressed the comms piece in her ear and whispered as softly as she could manage.
“Hey Bud?”
“Not now, darling,” came the hushed reply, “I am currently picking a lock that if I so much as breathe on will reset itself and I’ll have to start the damn sequence over.”
The line disconnected and Vespa sighed. As she dropped her hand again she caught another flicker of movement, closer again. She forced herself to not react and act like she was looking idly out the window. It was only a few armspans away at this point and Vespa eased one hand behind herself to conceal the knife that dropped from her sleeve into her hand. Counting in her head again to get the timing right, Vespa snapped out one hand to grab whoever the shadow was, getting her arm behind their elbow and using the force of the momentum to slam their face into the door. She had twisted their arm up behind them and pressed the flat of her knife to their neck so they’d know it was there out of long-drilled muscle memory before she realized who it was she’d grabbed.
“What the hell is a kid like you doing here?” she hissed, pulling the knife away from his neck but not putting it away yet.
The kid— Vespa didn’t think he was more than fifteen or sixteen and small for his age, his wrist narrow in her grip— squirmed, gasping a little to get his breath back from the impact of hitting the door.
“I could say the same thing to you! This wing was supposed to be empty,” he said, trying to wrench his arm out of her grasp and wincing as she tightened her grip.
“And how would you know that-”
She was cut off by the sound of an alarm and cursed under her breath, not letting go of the kid but looking around and assessing the corridor, tightening her grip on her knife.
“The fuck did you do, kid?”
He started to protest, twisting his arm in her grip again, when she caught a flashing light out of the corner of her and whipped around to face it. The security camera was back on, little red light blinking softly. She swore loudly and yanked both her and the kid around so that their backs were facing the camera. Just in time to see a couple of security guards rounding the corner. Vespa swore again, even louder, and shoved the kid one direction while she dived the other way. Knives would be no good this far away so she pulled out her blaster, flipping the safety off and the setting to stun.
“Stay down,” she hissed, and the boy’s dark eyes looked startled. Putting a finger to her ear, she started speaking into her comms.
“Buddy, we need to go now. Something went wrong and we’ve got company. This exit is a bust, you need to find another route out.”
“Copy that, darling, I’ll be out soon.”
A blaster shot hit the wall above Vespa’s head and she flinched. Rolling behind a huge pot with a sad looking shrub in it, she leaned out and took a shot, missing entirely but making the security guards flinch back and start approaching slower. Glancing across the hall she saw the kid wasn’t there, and scanning quickly caught a glimpse of him as he slid into another hiding spot, halfway towards the security guards.
“How the-” she started, and then shook her head. The kid was going to get himself killed. Leaning out from the potted plant again she took another shot, this time clipping one of the guards. It was enough to get them down though, and they dropped like a stone.
The rest of the guards shouted, something about “Surrender!” and “Stop, you’re under arrest!” but Vespa didn’t pay attention. She leaned out and took another shot, catching another glimpse of the kid, this time almost upon the security guards as another one dropped from her shot. As she watched, the kid flattened himself against a wall as the guards stalked forward, then slipped behind them and— with a movement almost too fast to catch— was suddenly on one of their backs, arms wrapped around a throat and squeezing. Swearing again, she launched herself from behind the plant, running down the hall and taking shots as the remaining guards erupted into even more chaos.
By the time she got down the hall only one was left standing and she dropped him with a pommel strike to his jaw with the knife she’d reversed in her grip. The kid was standing there panting, but looking pleased with himself before she shoved his shoulder.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing? You could have gotten-” she shouted, before pausing when she noticed a tear in his jacket and something damp on his hand as he crossed his arms with an air of forced nonchalance across his chest. “You did get hurt, let me-”
He protested and tried to push away her probing hands but she glared at him and he quieted. He’d definitely gotten hit by something, and the way he’d winced when she shoved his shoulder meant something was probably wrenched there too.
“Stupid, taking on all of the guards like that, what did you think was going to happen,” she muttered under her breath before her inspection was interrupted by another, louder, wail of an alarm.
“Vespa, darling, I’ve got what we came here for and-” Buddy said, bursting through one of the doors before skidding to a stop at the sight of Vespa and someone new. “What happened?”
“No time, we’ve got to go now.” Vespa quickly hoisted the kid over her shoulder, ignoring his “Hey!” of protest.
“I’d gathered that, but why are you carrying a child?”
“I’m not a child-”
“He got hit and I’m not about to leave him for the cops, are you?” Vespa turned and started walking quickly down the hall that led out to the level where they’d parked the bike. Buddy sighed and followed.
