i. collection

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Thirteen's breath was ragged as she darted through the shadowy streets of Tatooine. Her legs ached with every step that carried her forward, but she couldn't stop. Not with a bounty hunter on her tail who was willing to take her to the highest bidder. Her time with the Empire was beginning to catch up with her.

Many of her old colleagues and superiors were getting arrested. Thirteen didn't have much choice in the matter. She was born and raised in the Empire, and its reign ended just as she was having thoughts about desertion. She considered herself lucky, but her slate was far from clean.

Her Mandalorian shadow had been following her for the past couple of days, and she'd managed to avoid him until now. Thirteen began seeing it as a sort of challenge, one that she was losing and he was on the verge of winning. 

The beeping of a tracking fob on her heels was a reminder of that. She glanced behind her, braid whipping over her shoulder and giving her the glimpse of streetlamp light glinting off metal. She looked back in front of her and took a sharp right into an alleyway, drawing her blaster and moving into the darkness.

The bounty hunter followed. Thirteen furrowed her brow as she examined him from the shadows. She'd never seen a Mandalorian in person. Stories were passed around the mess hall at the Headquarters on Coruscant, but they were mostly ramblings of older officers recalling their glory days.

Her breath was hot against the scarf she'd wound tightly around the bottom half of her face. Her jacket suddenly felt restrictive against her skin, and the tough material of her pants seemed to rustle with every minuscule move. The bounty hunter's head turned slowly to look in her area, and Thirteen remembered the one thing she didn't account for when choosing her hiding spot: thermal detection.

"Come out with your hands up." His voice was cool and calculated. Nothing about his pitch indicated fear or excitement. He sounded as though he was talking about the weather. Thirteen hesitated.

"And if I refuse?"

"I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold. Your choice." The agent sighed, loosening her grip on her blaster and setting it down before stepping out of the shadows with her hands clasped behind her head.

The metal plates of her right hand clicked into place with the movement. She'd lost half her arm in an unfortunate event involving an explosion and subsequent amputation. She was lucky to be retrofitted with the Empire's cutting edge (for the time) technology, but maintaining it without a trained tech was proving difficult.

"So who is it this time?" She asked, accent sharp. He gestured with his blaster for her to start moving. "Republic or hit gone wrong?"

"Does it really matter?"

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