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She was gonna kill Johnny or punch him in the face at the very least. That was what Dutch kept thinking as Lucy sped towards the Arcturus. Of all the stupid things he could have done, using her name to accept a kill warrant ranked up pretty high. As if that wasn’t enough, he’d lied to her. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Six years of working together had certainly earned him that, but she couldn’t think of anything that would make his betrayal sting any less. It was even worse when she finally managed to get in range of the comlink only for him to deactivate it with a firm “Stay out of it”. Like he wasn’t the one who pulled her into whatever this was when he signed her name. To say Dutch was getting pissed, would be an understatement. Johnny had a lot of explaining to do, and that was the only reason Dutch was going all guns in to get him out of whatever trouble he’d just dragged them both in. Dead men couldn’t explain themselves. Well, maybe it wasn’t the only reason, but the betrayal still stinging her heart wanted this to be the only reason.
Seeing Johnny getting pummeled in the fighting ring didn’t bring her any satisfaction. He was still her partner, and no-one attacked her team. But Johnny did deserve getting his ass handed to him and Dutch was gonna do just that when they got through this. But first she had to convince the idiot guard to stop the fight. He took too much pleasure at telling a killjoy no, and Dutch might’ve been able to work with that if her friend and teammate of six years was’t in imminent death by their mark. Dutch never cared for being forced into situations she didn’t want to be, she’d had enough of that growing up, and she was getting really frustrated with how Johnny had put her into this one. No time to make a plan, barely enough time to react in an effort to save him, and all for some reason that he seemed to believe had nothing to do with her. Despite the fact that it was her name, her reputation and her team’s rating that he was playing with in the process.
With her frustration mingling with her anger, she let the guard go, trying to remind herself that she wasn’t a senseless killer anymore. Turning around to find Fancy Lee there really didn’t help her mood any. It only made things more complicated. A quick talk with her fellow killjoy was enough to let her know that he had booked the same warrant too, and while that was highly irregular it also made things that much worse. Because Dutch knew that Fancy wouldn’t let measly little obstacles, like Johnny being in the way, keep him from his kill. At least there was a piece of good news in all this, when Lucy announced that she’d gotten the comlink reactivated. Dutch made another effort to reason with Johnny.
“John? You hear me? Out of the pit. We got another agent on your target. Play time’s over”, she ordered.
“I’m working on it”, he replied. Dutch didn’t believe that was a satisfactory reply in the slightest, but at this point she would accept what she could get. At least it wasn’t a direct refusal to follow her orders.
“Johnny, leave the mark!” she ordered again, when she saw Andras land a powerful roundhouse kick at the side of Johnny’s face. It was obvious that he wouldn’t be able to hold up to the mark for much longer.
“He’s not a mark, he’s my brother”, Johnny admitted and she wanted to curse at him so badly. He should have told her way sooner, she would have listened and helped. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he trust her? Now, with the way he’d handled it, it might be too late.
As the two siblings fought it out in the ring, Dutch could see Fancy’s light pointer on Andras’ skin. He was going for the kill. And hurt and betrayed as Dutch felt over Johnny’s actions, she knew she couldn’t let him see his own brother die in front of him. Not like that. So she took the tranq dart from her hair and shot it at Andras. It landed cleanly in the side of his neck and he went down just in time to avoid Fancy’s blade. She went to enter the ring but the guard from before stopped her.
“Hey! What did I say?” he shouted at her over the cheers of the crowd.
“Projectiles are physical contact, and physical contact means he’s mine. Or do you want to explain to the RAC why you’re obstructing their warrant?” she informed him. And if she felt a hint of satisfaction at seeing his arrogant smile drop, well she was only human, what could she do?
“I hit him with a neuroblock”, she informed Johnny and ignored his smartass comments about who knocked out who. This wasn’t a joke and they needed to get back on Lucy as soon as possible.
“Johnny, what were you thinking?” she demanded once they were on their way back to the Quad.
“Look, I’ll admit I didn’t think everything through. But there was a level five out on him, I had to claim it before someone else did.”
“By using my name?” she asked, letting the hurt and betrayal color her voice along with all the other feelings his actions had caused to resurface.
“Well, I couldn’t use mine. I’m not licenced for kill work, you are!” he justified and Dutch wanted nothing more than to punch him right on the nose. That was no excuse for why he hadn’t tried to talk to her first. And she needed to know why after so many years of having each other’s backs he couldn’t trust her with this. But that was a conversation she couldn’t have at the moment, while the warrant was still active and they had so little time to figure a way out of this.
“What was your endgame, exactly?” she pointed out, “After you busted him out?”
“Fake his death, I guess”, Johnny replied with a sigh, finally realizing how much he’d messed up, “Or say he got the drop on me and escaped, uh -”
“That’s not how this shit works, John”, Dutch interrupted. She didn’t believe she had to explain this to him, after all this time working with her, “The RAC doesn’t just take your word on level fives. There’s inquests, proof of death -”
“Dutch! He’s my brother”, he interrupted her, dropping all the masks and allowing her to see his true feelings on the subject, “What was I supposed to do? Just stand by and watch him die?”
The part of her that grew up training in that harem would have told him that yes, that’s what he was supposed to do. Anything, but jeopardize her. The bigger part of her that still struggled to break free from those teachings disagreed. That part wanted to help her teammate and best friend figure things out. That part would have helped readily if he’d only asked. That part was still hurt that he had chosen not to.
“You should have come to me”, she pressed.
“I was trying to keep you out of it”, he reiterated and it could have been a good reason, except for the tiny little detail that he’d used her name, inadvertently tying her to this in the eyes of the RAC, an organization that didn’t take kindly to their agents failing.
“How did that work out?” she threw back at him, allowing her voice to show how hurt she was. She took a breath to rein in her temper and then continued, trying to think of what their options were now.
“Look, do you even know what he did to earn this warrant?” she asked gently, trying to move on from her personal feelings and find a way out. If they knew why the client wanted him dead, maybe they could find a way to lift the warrant from his head.
Before Johnny had a chance to reply his brother walked in. He rubbed a hand at his neck, right where the dart had landed and cleared his throat to get their attention. Both killjoys turned to him, Johnny looking apprehensively at his brother, while Dutch let an analytic look pass over his figure. He was shirtless, just like he’d been in the fighting ring and there was a part of Dutch, one that she rarely listened to while working an active warrant and especially not when it was about the mark of said warrant, that liked what she was seeing. Judging from the look Johnny’s brother gave her, he liked what he was seeing too.
“Want to tell me where the hell I am?” he demanded from his brother. Dutch would have very much liked to announce that he was on her ship, but stayed quiet. Instead she let Johnny and his brother get cleaned up and went to wait for them in the galley.
Dutch leaned against a counter in the galley, watching the two siblings talk. She didn’t know what to think about Johnny’s brother, who she now knew was actually named D’avin. As Johnny explained the way of the Quad, the RAC and what it was actually that killjoys did, D’avin let his thoughts show clearly on his face. He was interested in how things were in the Quad, he genuinely wanted to know what his brother was up to, but he made it abundantly clear on his face that he didn’t think much of killjoys or any other type of bounty hunters. Just a typical soldier, Dutch thought, but knew there was more to it. She didn’t know how she knew or why she even cared, but there was something about that man that drew her in, that she needed to figure out. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t stop. Not even when he noticed her studying him and returned her look with one of his own. But then Johnny asked why he was here, and just like that D’avin clumped up, hiding his face behind a cocky mask and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“We’re trying to help you here D’av”, Johnny sighed, but it was obvious he wasn’t getting through to his brother, not about this.
“Don’t need any”, D’avin argued standing up. Dutch wanted to tell him a lot of things in response. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t get a choice, their help wasn’t optional. She also wanted to tell him that he knew nothing of the trouble he was in, as obvious as that was. To point out that his brother had dragged both Dutch and himself into too much trouble for him and the only way all three of them would get out of it was by working together. However, Dutch knew when she was up against a stubborn soldier digging his heels in, and she knew telling him all that directly wouldn’t be of any use. But maybe, just maybe, if she talked to Johnny instead of him, directed the conversation and threw some clues, maybe he would take the bait and actually listen.
“Remind me Johnny”, she purred at her teammate, ignoring the curious look D’avin was sending her now that she was finally speaking, “aren’t kill warrants personal?”
“Very”, Johnny replied, having worked with Dutch long enough to know what she was doing.
“And doesn’t it take a lot of power and money to make one stick?”
“Indeed”, Johnny replied and scratched his beard.
“Someone must really hate your brother, John. And somehow I get the impression this isn’t such a novel idea”, she mused, still refusing to acknowledge the now intense look D’avin was sending her way.
“Care to shed some light on this?” Johnny asked his brother.
“I got no idea, John”, D’avin replied with a self-deprecating chuckle and Johnny shook his head in disappointment, “Look, you don’t want me here, I don’t want to be here. So why don’t you just drop me off at the next port and I’ll be on my way?”
Dutch merely scoffed at the ridiculousness of that idea. Johnny turned to look at her with trepidation, perhaps finally seeing this from her perspective, but she was in no mood to make this easier for him. She just raised an expectant eyebrow at her friend. She definitely wasn’t going to explain to D’avin why they couldn’t just let him go. Mainly because she wasn’t the one to take on the warrant in the first place and therefore it wasn’t her mess to clean, but also because she thought it would be better for all three involved if he heard it from his brother instead of a stranger. Johnny sighed in resignation and D’avin was observant enough to realize something was going on and ask about it.
“Once a kill warrant is written, it’s guaranteed”, Johnny admitted.
“Meaning?” D’avin asked, but it seemed like he already knew.
“If she doesn’t terminate you by the warrant’s end, they’ll just keep sending other agents until someone succeeds”, Johnny sighed. D’avin took a moment to look between the two before focusing on Dutch.
“Well, shit, you gonna kill me then?” he asked Dutch with his voice full of sarcasm. He was looking at her directly. There was a glint in his look that told her he didn’t think she could kill him, but wanted to see her try. He would be wrong. She was trained from a young age to do precisely that, kill. And if the sudden tingling sensation of her soulmark was any indication, her training demanded that she did just that. Kill him. Even after all those years away from Khlyen, all that time breaking free from the conditioning and training and duty he’d imposed on her, and yet her fingers itched to reach for the dagger hidden in her belt and plunge it in his heart. Because she knew those words as well as she knew her own name. And even if she didn’t, the burning sensation just above her navel would be confirmation enough. She knew if she were to draw her shirt up everyone would be able to see the black words of her soulmark, visible for the world to see now that her soulmate had spoken them.
She knew meeting her soulmate would have been complicated. The actual words on her soulmark was enough indication. He was asking if she would kill him, afterall. The fact that they’d made Khlyen happy was just superfluous confirmation of that. That she could practically hear him in her head ordering her to kill whoever said those words to her wasn’t making things any better. She felt her fingers brush at the hilt of her dagger without even realizing she was reaching for it and she had to mentally force herself to stop that course of action and move her hand away from the weapon. And she knew, with a soul shattering certainty, that if she talked to D’avin and said the words of his mark, if she saw those words on his flesh, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. She would kill him before she could think better of it. Because that was what she was trained to do through blood and pain and tears since she was a kid. Surely she would regret it a lot afterwards, that she knew too. And it would destroy her friendship with Johnny. But knowing that didn’t stop her hand from inching closer to her blade, again. It took all her strength to stop the movement this time, and she wasn’t sure how long she would be able to do that. A tense moment passed where Dutch took a breath to clear her thoughts and then she forced herself to turn to Johnny with a shrug.
“Take us to Leith. I need to talk to Bellus”, she ordered with forced calmness and walked out of the galley. She swiftly made her way to her room and once the door was closed she raised her shirt, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her soulmark was where it always had been, right above her navel. She’d always been able to see it. But in her reflection it was darker, more solid and that meant others could see it now too. She let a curse fall from her lips. What was she supposed to do now? Well, keep her distance from D’avin, that was obvious. At least until she managed to gain control over herself. Because the alternative? What she would have to do? Out of all the things Khlyen had her do, she knew killing her own soulmate, even if he was a person who she didn’t even know, would be what would absolutely break her.
She let a few tears fall from her eyes, thinking of what could have been if she wasn’t so fucked up, if she wasn’t a trained assassin with standing orders to kill him. A few moments later she took a deep breath and wiped the tears away. She didn’t have time to dwell more on that. She had a mere twenty-something hours to figure out a way to save D’avin before the warrant ended. If she defaulted on the warrant then it would be all three of them that would have a price on their heads and they would be hunted by every high level killjoy. Having a pressing mission to focus on, helped Dutch keep her calm. And she desperately needed that.
The talk with Bellus wasn’t a complete bust, but it was very close to being one. At least Dutch learned who the client was, although she should have known it was the Company. They issued most of the warrants in the RAC, at least those that paid well enough for an agent on Dutch’s level. When Dutch boarded Lucy she set a course for Westerley and then headed straight for the bar. She poured a shot of hokk and downed it in one go, then she poured one more. She drank that slower, letting herself feel the burn as it traveled down her throat. She was contemplating getting a third one when Johnny interrupted her. He took the drinking as an indication the meeting with Bellus hadn’t gone well, which wasn’t far from the truth. At least D’avin wasn’t with him, which meant Dutch wouldn’t have to be so careful on who she addressed while she spoke. She didn’t want to speak to D’avin, to let him know what they were. She didn’t know what he would do or how he would react and that was dangerous while the urge to kill him was still riding her hard. It was a constant itch she couldn’t scratch, and she hated it. It was just another sign of how much influence Khlyen still held over her.
Johnny went on with the conversation, blissfully unaware of Dutch’s thoughts. Or perhaps blissfully wasn’t the right word, since he was thinking of turning himself in to the RAC to get Dutch out of the mess he’d put her in. Dutch really couldn’t accept that though, and she made sure he knew that. Even if it would make her life a bit easier, it would cost her Johnny and it would still leave her soulmate with a price on his head. Of course that’s not what she told Johnny. Hers and D’avin’s soulmate status wasn’t really a complication that Johnny needed to be privy to for the moment.
“You were right earlier”, he admitted while she sat on the couch beside him, “I don’t know who my brother is anymore, Dutch. I can’t be sure that he didn’t earn that kill warrant.”
Johnny’s confession was low and resigned and it was painful for Dutch to hear him like that. It was almost enough to make her forgive him for lying to her. Almost. But then again she was kinda lying to him too, so maybe they were even. Although a lie of omission didn’t feel like the same thing as an outright lie to the face, did it? Maybe Dutch was over-rationalizing this. She felt hurt and betrayed, but she did kind of understand where Johnny was coming from. And with everything else that was going on she couldn’t keep up a grudge against her friend, a friend that she loved like family. A normal family, not the cutthroat perversion she was born into, nor the competitive version she found in the harem.
“Doesn’t matter”, she comforted him, ignoring the tiny voice in her head that told her that her words weren’t entirely selfless, “You have to protect him, he’s family.”
“So are you”, Johnny insisted. His words hit Dutch like a punch to the gut. Because he had no idea how right and wrong that statement was. Right, not only because of how she felt for Johnny, but also because his brother and her were meant to be. Wrong because she might well end up killing D’avin before the night was over. She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just changed the subject, telling Johnny of her desperate plan to find something the Company wanted more than D’avin’s death. And because she was such a good friend she even offered for Johnny to stay on the ship while she went alone to meet Alvis. Of course Johnny didn’t take her up on the offer, feeling too much like that would be like he was letting her clean up his mess. Dutch didn’t much care about his reasoning, his help was appreciated and needed considering they only had eighteen hours to do something.
The talk with Alvis was really helpful. He told them of a monk of his that stole from the Company. He didn’t just give them a name but also a way to find him. Whatever he took from the Company, it sounded like they would want it more than the life of a mere soldier, at least Dutch hoped they would. She wasn’t exaggerating when she’d told Alvis she needed this desperately enough that if she knew how to beg she would. She was serious enough to tell the monk it was personal, to give him a blank favor owed in return. Handing out favors wasn’t something she was known for. In fact, she didn’t do that. Ever. It drew Johnny’s attention and when he asked about it she didn’t know what to tell him, so she deflected. She told him to get ready for Qresh and went to her room. She was relieved he was worried enough about his brother to drop it for the moment.
Dutch didn’t leave her room until they were approaching Qresh and even then she left it only when it was absolutely necessary for them to start prepping. She didn’t want to risk running into D’avin, not when she couldn’t trust herself to keep from attacking him. Yet when she passed by Johnny’s room she heard strangled screams coming from inside. She knew Johnny gave his room to D’avin for the night. She knew she should probably call Johnny to take care of his brother. But she didn’t. She didn’t even think it through, or at all. She just acted. And before she knew it she was in the room, quietly approaching the sleeping man on the bed. She was so worried about D’avin, and so focused on convincing herself to not kill him in his sleep, that she didn’t notice the change in his breathing that meant he’d woken up. He kept lying in the bed until she was standing above him. Then in one swift move he attacked, managing to flip Dutch onto the bed with his hands around her neck. It was impressive that he’d managed to fight back against her, to keep his own. Good, Dutch thought, he would need that.
D’avin squeezed his hands in warning, ordering the lights to turn on. He could try to choke her if he wanted, but with her blade firmly pressed into the side of his neck, Dutch would slice his carotid far earlier than she would lose all her air. He ran his eyes over her face and didn’t let go of the chokehold. Maybe he saw her internal battle to keep him alive on her face, or maybe the assassin she had been was looking at him through her eyes. Whatever it was, he didn’t trust her. That realization was a bitter one and Dutch had to remind herself that it was good, that it would help him survive.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people”, he accused. Dutch could have told him that he was screaming, but she still couldn’t trust either of them with what might happen once he found out. Instead she cocked an eyebrow at him, leaning into her brooding mercenary persona. She felt his fingers relax from around her neck, but didn’t remove her blade. Not until he moved away. Then she let her arm fall. She studied him from the bed as he went to put on a shirt.
“Must have screamed in my sleep”, he muttered his realization and turned to look at her. She stared expectantly at him while putting the blade back in its place at her boot.
“Battle brain”, he sighed, “It happens.”
Dutch just shrugged and stood up. What was there to say really? That she was sorry? To thank him for his service when she was no-one’s citizen anymore? Somehow those options felt too patronizing, considering what she was hiding from him. D’avin didn’t like her reaction. It needled him how her eyes seemed to read him, to look past his facade into his soul. And he hated the understanding he saw on her face. He hated even more that she was trying to hide it. There was something about her that he didn’t know how to describe. Something that urged him to dig beneath her masks and armor and find out who she truly was. He hated that too. Because he had so many more important things to worry about. Like his missing memories. And the nightmares that suggested he’d attacked his team. And the fact that someone powerful and influential wanted him dead.
“Was a soldier for nine years”, he informed her, letting his hands rest on his hips. It wasn’t a relaxed pose, not in the slightest. It made it obvious that whatever he was going to say next it would be something Dutch wouldn’t like.
“How long have you been a professional killer?” he asked her. Calmly, which kind of made it worse. He had no idea how deep the barb he’d thrown had cut her. Since she was eight years old, that was the answer to his question. The answer she could never voice out, that she could hardly admit even to herself. Twenty years since she picked up her first blade, twenty years as an assassin, more than double his enlisted service. She didn’t do contract kills anymore, not since her wedding. It was like she’d told Bellus, killing in self defense was different. But there was a part of her that had been very vocal lately that insisted that she was a killer, as long as she kept using the skills that Khlyen had taught her, as long as she still felt the need to follow Khlyen’s oldest standing orders and kill her own soulmate. She was a monster, and while she recognized she was one only because he’d made her one, it didn’t change the fact that she was. Dutch took a deep breath, letting it calm her feelings down, until a stoic mask fell over her face hiding everything. All the pain and hurt and yearning and hope. Then she stood up and slowly made her way to the door.
“Oh, come on. Just ‘cause it’s your job, doesn’t make them any less dead”, D’avin added, misunderstanding her reaction. He was just twisting the blade at this point, and for the first time since she realized who he was, she was glad she’d kept it from him. If that’s what he thought of her now, what would he think once he got to know her and all the atrocities she had committed? She kept walking, showing no reaction to his words. He didn’t let her walk past him, putting out his hand to stop her. It wouldn’t have been effective if she didn’t want it to be, but she would allow him to say his piece. There wasn’t much he could say to hurt her more, anyway.
“Johnny told me you had a plan. That if everything goes your way we’ll be out of this mess come morning”, he stated. It wasn’t a question, but she nodded regardless.
“What if the plan goes bad? What’s the penalty for you?” D’avin asked, proving that underneath all his bravado and sharp edges he wasn’t actually a bad person. Dutch just shrugged and turned to leave. Once again he stopped her, this time by holding on to her bicep. Oh, how much she had to fight the urge to break his wrist, an instinct so well trained into her it became second nature. It was the only reason he managed to pull her back in front of him, to turn her to look at him. Because she was fighting herself with all she got to not hurt him.
“You asked Johnny if I’m worth risking your asses for? I’m not”, he insisted and Dutch knew that feeling well. Maybe that was why the universe had matched them together. She shook her head dismissing his words. Worth it or not, he was her soulmate and Johnny’s brother, and that meant he was getting their help regardless. The hand still holding onto her bicep flexed. Dutch may have not said a word but he understood perfectly her dismissal. For some reason she believed he was worth the trouble and that was all that mattered to her. D’avin understood that all too well and knew he couldn’t stop her. He also could admit to himself that he was in too deep this time and he needed her help. He didn’t have to like it though. Neither did he have to like that getting her help, whether wanted or not, was putting his baby brother at risk. In fact he hated that.
“Then let me help”, he pleaded, for once dropping his mask and letting her see who was hiding behind. And Dutch didn’t hate the emotions of protectiveness on his face, even if she was sure they were only meant for Johnny. D’avin hardly knew her after all, and he had already dismissed her as nothing but a killer.
“We don’t need your help”, Johnny announced from the hallway and walked right past them without waiting for an argument. D’avin immediately let go of Dutch and ran after his brother. Dutch on her part took a calming breath and then followed them to the cargo hold. She could hear them arguing, letting their issues color their judgment. She knew why Johnny didn’t want his brother involved. He was hurt and couldn’t reconcile the brother he knew with the one standing in front of him. He also, in no small part, wanted to prove he could save his brother by himself, that he grew up strong and thriving without him, that his absence hadn’t held Johnny back. Dutch didn’t know why D’avin cared, she didn’t know him well enough to understand all his motivations, although protectiveness for his brother was obviously part of them. But if he was anything like his brother, he would most likely try to do something stupid if they told him to stay behind. Besides, she’d seen him fight and they could use his skills.
“John, he’s coming”, Dutch broke their argument. The brothers turned and looked at her. D’avin with surprise, John with hurt. She felt like his pained look was unfairly directed at her. He was the one who’d forced her into this corner, how dare he judge how she was getting them all out of it!
“You got us into this. I’m saying how we get out”, she insisted when it became obvious Johnny was going to argue. They didn’t have any more time to argue and nurse feelings, they only had a few hours left before she defaulted on the warrant he’d accepted in her name. She may have understood his motives, and even kind of forgiven him, but that didn’t mean their circumstances had changed.
“We don’t have a warrant protecting us this time”, she continued, “we may need the back up.”
Johnny still looked like he was about to argue, not liking that Dutch wasn’t taking his side. If it was just about supporting him over his brother in a petty fight, she might have understood his attitude, but this was about people’s lives, D’avin’s life and hers, if they didn’t resolve this in time.
“Just tell me what to do. I’ll follow your lead, I swear”, D’avin added in a non-confrontational manner when he saw that his brother wasn’t yet convinced.
“When have you ever followed my lead?” Johnny argued, drawing an angry sigh from Dutch. He was letting his feelings lead. She could understand accepting your feelings, discussing them, living with them, despite her training, or maybe because of it. But this had to do about all their lives and even a monster like her knew that lives were a bit more important than feelings. She gave him a look conveying that.
“Fine. You want him? You prep him”, Johnny announced and made to leave. He was being petty, but Dutch was in no mood to tolerate that.
“No John, this is your mess and your brother. You’re prepping him. I have other things to take care of”, she ordered. She didn’t usually give a lot of orders, she didn’t like it, but once again Johnny was forcing her hand.
“Dutch” he exclaimed in a warning tone. The audacity of that man to use that tone on her after everything that had happened in the last day. Dutch took a breath to center her emotions.
“If you didn’t want me involved you shouldn’t have dragged my name into this”, she replied stoically, even though her heart already ached from the words she was about to say next, “and if you don’t like how I run my team you can leave as soon as this is over.”
“Yes, boss”, Johnny spat, but Dutch was already climbing up the ladder, leaving the siblings alone.
Of course their target would be at a land blessing that afternoon. He was a monk, so that wasn’t entirely unexpected. It made everything more complicated, though. Too many witnesses, no warrant to ease their way, all the while their dwindling time was ticking away. But at least now they had a plan, a course of action. It centered Dutch, calmed her down. Getting ready for a mission, retrieving a mark, studying the area, making contingency plans. Those were things she was familiar with, things she knew how to do well. Things that didn’t make her feel like a conflicted mess.
Dutch was sitting in the galley looking over the map of the estate. It wouldn’t hurt to know the layout. She heard the hiss of the door opening and turned to find D’avin coming in. She looked at him for a moment and then turned back to the map. He only took a few steps to let the door slide closed, but didn’t join her. He remained standing there. If he was expecting an invitation for him to join her, he wasn’t getting one.
“Look, I just wanted to apologize for calling you a killer earlier. I don’t know you and I shouldn’t assume to know you enough to call you that”, he told her and left before she had the chance to reply.
“Lucy, did Johnny tell him to say that?” Dutch asked her ship’s AI.
“No Dutch, he didn’t”, came Lucy’s mechanical voice and the corners of Dutch’s lips lifted.
Dutch didn’t let it distract her, focusing instead on the mission at hand. Some hours later she was dressed in her best impression of a qreshi noble, which with her pedigree and training wasn’t hard to pull, and was walking across the beautiful garden being blessed. The ritual didn’t take long, but it did last long enough for Johnny to figure out who their target was among all the monks. She walked up to him, ready to make contact. But D’avin pulled her before she had the chance. She whirled from the pull, trying really hard to not attack her soulmate, even though he’s just messed the plan and there was pain blooming in her left bicep.
“Up there, he was aiming at you”, D’avin explained and Dutch looked to see Fancy Lee. Her time was up and now she was the target. There was some commotion while she informed Johnny that Fancy was there and she checked it out. The knife aimed for her had landed on someone else, someone who was now foaming at the mouth.
“Poison blade, Fancy! Really?” she muttered, more to herself than the killjoy who was hunting her and tried to regulate her breathing like she was taught, to slow her heart rate and the poison spread. She didn’t even notice she was still in D’avin’s arms until she felt her knees weaken a moment later. She couldn’t reply to Johnny’s concerned calls in her ears, she barely kept her focus enough to taste the blood from her wound while D’avin led her to sit at the edge of a fountain. Dutch tried to keep her instinctual panic at bay while everything started spinning. And D’avin informed Johnny that she’d been hit with a poison while tying a cloth over her wound.
“We need to get you to a doctor”, D’avin insisted, but she just shook her head. They didn’t have the time. Instead she asked Johnny for the way to the kitchen, just to make sure she remembered it correctly. Fancy had coated his blade with a fast acting poison and she knew getting lost could very well end up being a fatal mistake for her.
“You and D’avin, find Rolly”, she told Johnny and tried to stand up on unsteady legs.
“Hey, forget Rolly”, D’avin placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her advance and helping her sit back again, “I’m not leaving you like this.”
If Dutch was capable of thinking more clearly, she might have avoided engaging him in conversation. She might have ignored him and maneuvered herself out of his reach. But she wasn’t. Her controlled breathing wasn’t slowing down the poison enough and she was already feeling like she was swimming in air too thick to breathe.
“You asked me what my people do if I fail?” she told D’avin instead and paused for a moment to catch her breath. She saw the spark of recognition in his eyes and she knew his soulmark was becoming visible. She swallowed another breath and started talking before he could get distracted on this latest revelation he’d just had.
“This is what they do if I fail a kill warrant. They transfer it onto me until I make it right”, she explained as coherently as she was able. He opened his mouth and the hard set of his face told her he was going to argue. She spoke over him, because there really was no time to discuss this, not with the poison coursing through her veins.
“Fancy won’t miss me next time. If you want to help me, get the monk.”
There was pained conflict in D’avin’s eyes. She could see it even through the fuzzy edges that started blurring her vision. He didn’t want to let her stumble alone and hurt. He wanted to get her to a doctor and make sure she wouldn’t die. But something of what she’d said must have gotten through, because he nodded.
Dutch made her way to the kitchen, or tried to. Walking on a straight surface was very difficult for her at the moment, the stairs in her way were practically impossible. It was only thanks to her training that she’d even managed to make it as far as she did. But then Khlyen appeared. At first she thought it was a hallucination, but was too weak and confused to not let him help with the poison. Still she couldn’t not ask him how he found her, even if he was nothing but a projection of her subconscious. The last thing she heard as the darkness enveloped her was that he had never let her go.
When Dutch woke up, there was a syringe sticking out of her torso and her team’s calls for her in her ear. All she could think was that the syringe meant Khlyen had found her. No, he had never let her go. He’d said so. She wasn’t free. She would never be free of him. She was feeling herself spiraling, emotions of fear, anger, hatred, all warring for her attention, all rising to the surface. She was drowning in them. It was so intense she could hardly breathe, and she knew that wasn’t an aftereffect of the poison. Because she was an assassin and she knew what each poison did.
“Dutch”, she heard D’avin call for her in her comlink. She focused on his voice and took a few deep breaths. Her soulmate and her best friend both needed her, and she wasn’t going to let them down. She could succumb to her panic later if she still felt like it.
“I’m on my way”, she informed them through the comlink.
Getting to that corridor where they were trapped was easy, now that she wasn’t affected by the poison anymore. Fighting with the guards, even when there were so many against her, felt like a refreshing breath. Fighting, she knew. She could do. She couldn’t mess up. Soon the guards were dispatched and all three were back on Lucy. D’avin tried to approach her to talk, but she was too busy with setting up a meeting with Bellus and negotiating the deal for his life.
They didn’t get to talk after the warrant was lifted either. She’d been called to RAC headquarters effective immediately. She was sure she was going to get expelled or worse, but she got off with a very angry lecture from Turin. She didn’t press her luck, instead getting on the first shuttle to Westerley. She met up with Johnny and D’avin at the Royale. She joined them at the bar, just in time for Pree to offer them some free celebratory drinks. She almost drained hers before Johnny even found a girl to follow.
“You wanna talk about it?” D’avin asked when they were alone.
“My RAC debrief?” she asked, misunderstanding him on purpose. Because, no she didn’t want to talk about it, not yet.
“No. About what happened on the mission”, he replied pretending to believe she genuinely misunderstood, “And don’t say nothing happened.”
“Later”, she replied, “when we’re somewhere more private.”
“Fine”, he nodded because he didn’t want to do this in the middle of a busy bar either, “just tell me one thing. Does my brother know?”
“Not from me”, she shrugged. They stayed like that, drinking in silence for a while. Then Johnny came back and D’avin joined him. Dutch looked at the two brothers talking. Once it looked like they were in deep conversation, she left the bar. She had to get back to Lucy and deal with what she found out about Khlyen, before her soulmate came to demand she pick on another unhealed scar. She was a block from the Royale when Alvis joined her.
“Saw the new one. Was he the reason you needed to trade with the Company?” he asked and she nodded.
“Heard him talking with your partner back there”, he informed her casually, but she knew if it was nothing he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to come and warn her.
“He was asking a lot of questions about you, like who trained you or how you could afford your ship.”
“I expected that”, she admitted in a soft voice.
“He said he can’t trust you. Be careful, Dutch”, Alvis warned.
“Don’t worry Al, I’m always careful”, she smiled and the monk nodded. Then he made his way to the shadows and she kept walking to the docking station.
Lucy was expecting her, eager to announce that she’d had a visitor. Dutch swallowed hard before she thanked her ship. She knew who it was before she walked into her room to find the red box. Her hands trembled with the internal battle she felt raging inside her. She didn’t want to open the box, but years of conditioning screamed that she needed to. To her absolute horror, Khlyen’s training had won over and she opened it. She skimmed her hand over the beautiful blade of the dagger nestled inside and then picked up the piece of paper.
Your Soulmate was written on it in Khlyen’s familiar handwriting. Dutch was so shocked she let the box fall from her hands and crash to the floor. The paper fluttered out of her limb fingers and landed on the blade a second later. She must have been so out of it while under the effects of the poison that she’d clued Khlyen in that she’d found her soulmate and that he was still alive. At least he didn’t know who her soulmate actually was, but if he’d been watching her all this time, it would only be a matter of time before he figured that out. Dutch was having a hard time breathing. She kneeled to pick up the box, trying to put everything back inside in their place and close it. She almost fumbled a bit, her fingers were too clumsy from the shock, but muscle memory from all those years of training helped her complete her task.
She was still kneeling over the box when the door to her room slid open and D’avin stormed in. Seeing her hunched over the box like that, it gave him pause, which diffused his anger a bit. But then she stood up and put her mercenary mask back on, and it rekindled his anger. He just couldn't understand why she would hide this from him, why she would avoid it. Sure he wasn't the best person there ever was, and he did have that issue with his brain he was trying to figure out, but that didn't make him unworthy of a soulmate. Besides, she didn’t really know about any of that, so it couldn’t be her reason.
“We have to talk”, he spat, trying hard to control his emotions.
“Indeed”, she agreed and sat on the bed. He leaned on the wall next to the door and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“You knew, and you tried to hide it”, he accused. But Dutch could clearly hear the question hidden behind it.
“Just because the universe magically decided we belong together, doesn’t mean I can suddenly trust you.”
“Oh, because you’re so trustworthy yourself”, he scoffed, “Remind me again what you do for a living?”
“Didn’t my job just save your ass?”
“Fair point”, he conceded, “But you have to admit, you have a lot of secrets too. Like where you disappeared to during the mission, or how you can fight that well.”
“As if you don’t have any secrets.”
“Okay, we both have secrets. Still doesn’t explain why you hid it from me.”
“I needed time to figure this out”, she admitted quietly, “and the whole kill warrant on your head wasn’t helping.”
“So you were gonna tell me?” he pressed and Dutch paused for a moment.
“I don’t know”, she sighed.
“What is it about me that you hate so much?” he asked defeatedly.
“Have you considered that maybe it has nothing to do with you?”
He straightened up and took a step closer.
“Feels kinda personal, since I’m the soulmate you wanted to avoid”, he pointed out.
“You asked Johnny where I trained, how I got my ship”, she seemingly changed the subject out of nowhere.
“What’s that got to do with this?”
“Everything. You think that kind of training comes without a price? It comes with rules, expectations.”
“What are you saying?” he asked although he was beginning to understand, and he didn’t like the conclusion he was getting at.
“I think you know”, Dutch pointed out, because she might be able to dive head first into any dangerous plan, but she didn’t want to admit this out loud.
“Tell me anyway”, D’avin pressed, because he didn’t want to allow his assumptions to guide this.
“I was a trained assassin. And I was a good one. But in that line of work, there are a lot of emotions you’re not allowed to feel. The first lesson I had to learn was that the person that speaks my words should die in the same breath.”
“Are you going to kill me?” he asked and took another step closer to her.
“I don’t want to”, she sighed and ran a hand over her face.
“But?”
She couldn’t look at him and say what she was going to say. She leaned her elbows on her knees and looked at her fingers that were even now flexing with the need to wrap themselves around the hilt of the dagger and carry out her latest mission. One blade, one weapon, one week to deliver, that’s what was expected of her from the moment she got a red box. She knew the drill well, it had been practically ingrained in her. She’d asked Khlyen what would happen if she didn’t do as expected. She could still hear his voice rattling in her head with his answer; “Very bad things.” She’d believed him when he’d told her that, she still believed it. But for the first time in her life she wanted to know what those bad things were. If it was pain she could take it. If it was turned on Johnny or D’avin, though? She couldn’t risk them getting hurt. And all the while there was a part of her that still couldn’t shake her training, that wanted to pick up that dagger and stab the target standing in front of her. She clasped her hands together.
“The kind of training I got, it’s not easy to get away from”, she admitted in a quiet voice, still looking at her hands. She was so tired of this, of fighting herself, of her past still dictating her future, of the incessant need to do what she didn’t want to do. But she couldn’t give up, not yet. She let out a sigh of frustration. D’avin didn’t like that at all. He closed the distance between them and crouched in front of her, so that he could look her in the eyes, and placed his hand over her clasped ones, holding both in his.
“Okay, we don’t have to jump into this. We can take it slow.”
“You don’t understand, he knows”, she insisted and D’avin could swear there was an almost panicked quality in her voice. He didn’t know her that long, or well, but somehow he knew that was an unusual enough incident to be unsettled by it. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something to calm her down. He tried to think of anything he knew about her that it could help, but realized he didn’t know anything. He was drawing a blank. D’avin was more angry with himself than her for that. He was usually more observant, especially when his little brother was involved. He tried to suppress his frustration, though, because the last thing he wanted was for her to think it was directed at her.
“You’re in danger, both you and Johnny”, Dutch continued oblivious to his inner turmoil and nudged the red box with the toe of her boot. She’d never gotten to pick it back up. D’avin didn’t know what that box meant, but he did pick it up and brought it in front of them. Then, he slowly opened it, giving her the chance to protest. She didn’t. Inside he saw a scrap of paper with something written on it in one of the languages of the J he didn’t know, and a dagger. He didn’t need to be able to read what was written on the paper to understand that she was ordered to use the dagger on him.
“Well, in case you didn’t notice, both John and I can take care of ourselves”, he pointed out with a conviction he didn’t completely feel. He did see her fight, and he wasn’t sure he could take her one-on-one. He didn’t want to think what her colleagues, from wherever it was she trained at, could do. But, gods, he didn’t want to let go of his soulmate without trying first.
“So why don’t I keep this”, he suggested while closing the box’s lid, “and we try to figure this out?”
“Fine”, Dutch agreed with a nod, “but don’t expect that things will magically be fixed just because we have each other’s words tattooed on our skin.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it”, D’avin smiled. A moment later, Dutch’s lips lifted in response. Things were far from solved between them, but at least now they were on the same page, both wanting to figure it out. For the moment, that was enough.