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"Mando. I've received your transmission. Wonderful news." The electronic voice breaks Zoya out of her reverie, and she lifts her head from where it rests against the wall, looking forward to see a projection of Greef Karga speaking to the Mandalorian. "Upon your return, deliver the quarry directly to the client. I have no idea if he wants to eat it or hang it on his wall," he continues, sounding amused, "but he's very antsy." Eyes widening, Zoya spots the child, now awake, climbing up the control system to play with a lever. "Safe passage! You know where to find me."
The Mandalorian presses a button to end the transmission and pulls something from the child's hands. "It's not a toy," he tells the creature in a voice that sounds very fatherly to Zoya's ears. With one hand, he lifts the child by its robe and turns in his seat to place it back in the cradle, catching Zoya staring at him as he does it. "What?"
She shakes her head. "Nothing."
The child coos, looking up at him. Zoya can just see the back of its head, but it's clear that it already idolizes the bounty hunter, gazing at him even when he's not paying attention.
He turns back to face the controls.
"What are you going to do with me when we get there?" she asks suddenly, feeling the weight of the cuffs clinging to her wrists once more. "Turn me in, like you're going to do to this poor creature?" She scowls at the back of his helmet as he refrains from answering. "Silent treatment. That's professional."
In truth, the Mandalorian doesn't answer because he doesn't know what he's going to do. If he goes according to the code and the rules for bounty hunters, he would turn her in. In theory, it's the right thing to do. But watching her with the child, seeing the break of relief wash across her face when she'd seen him come back for her with the egg, stumbling across her sleeping form while repairing the Razor Crest, her body curled around the small creature, face innocent in her slumber, he feels himself begin to stray from what he's always known to be right.
He abstains from saying any of this aloud, because he knows Zoya hates him for what he's done to her—if Mando were in her shoes, he would probably feel the same way. Instead, he says, "Watch the child."
Zoya stiffens, looking at the back of his helmeted head with divots between her eyebrows. "What, like I'm it's mother?"
"Keep it away from the controls," he says, ignoring her comment.
