The sky was dimming, twin suns bleeding orange across the landing pad. I stepped off the shuttle first, helmet under my arm, every sense on alert. Ezra trailed behind me, casual, chatty—but I could feel the static in the air.

The gonk droid waddled toward us from behind a crate stack, letting out a slow gonk… gonk… I rolled my eyes. Typical. But the intel buried inside that clunky frame? More than worth the trip.

Our contact stood nearby. A quiet exchange, nothing flashy.

“You’re late,” I said flatly.

They smirked. “Had to make sure the package was clean. No tracking beacons this time.”

Ezra raised a brow. “That’s it? We came all the way for a gonk droid?”

“It’s not just a droid,” I muttered, already moving. “There’s intel in there.”

We started back toward the shuttle, flanking the droid. Then I felt it—cold at the edges of my spine. A shift in the air. Someone watching. Someone familiar.

I froze mid-step, scanning the rooftops, the crates. A shadow moved—no, not just a shadow. You.

I hadn’t seen you in years. Last time, we weren’t on opposite ends of a job.

A voice rang out—low, calm, and unmistakable: “Leave the droid, Sabine. Walk away. No need to get messy.”

Ezra bristled beside me. “You know this guy?”

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes locked on you as you stepped from the shadows—armor worn but well-kept, blaster lowered but ready. You looked the same. Sharp. Focused. Still impossible to read.

“You’re late,” I said again—this time with something sharper underneath.

You gave me that half-smile I remembered too well. “Was waiting to see if you’d spot me.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot first.”

You nodded toward the gonk. “That intel belongs to someone else now.”

I raised my blaster. “Not to you.”

You didn’t flinch. “Does it have to go this way?”

I sighed—half annoyed, half… disappointed. “It always does with us, doesn’t it?”