Chapter Text
Emma didn’t normally get involved in the emotional side of jobs, the brief was to steal a package from Erza the Hutt. Sneak in, grab, sneak out. Simple.
Simple yeahhhh, that’s right her little voice in her mind snarked.
She had gotten into the Hutt’s establishment with no issues, wearing some cobbled together parts of armour to do her best “hard and rough bounty hunter” look. Rough material was thrown across her shoulders in typical Tatooine fashion. No problem. Sniffing through her nose and angling her jaw up at a vaguely ridiculous angle, she strutted in like she belonged there.
In fairness, mingling with these lowlifes was commonplace for Emma.
The Hutts palace was a well-known venue for all kinds of off worlders and vagrants… Slaves were his main trade – something that made Emma’s blood boil. Selling people… not being in control of your own life… She couldn’t imagine a worse fate.
It was straight forward to slip past the guards into the under level of the building sneaking her way through the murky darkness lit only by the faint glimmer of dirty light strips. Sticking her head into each room as she came to it, she’d crept along, palm resting on her pistol, ears sorting through the noise filtering down from upstairs.
Sneak in, grab, sneak out. The package was small she had been told, small enough to fit into her satchel she had hidden under her cloak.
Except the package in question, small yellow lights bleeping on the side of the fist sized box, rested on a pile of containers next to a containment cell. In the cell was a young boy, dirty, thin with malnutrition by the looks of it. He was clad only in torn shorts, skin illuminated by the blue of the force field keeping him prisoner.
Why was nothing ever simple?
She stood, hands cocked on her hips, staring at the figure curled up in the corner of the filthy space. Her brows furrowed.
Emma knew she should just grab the box and get the hell out. Kept things this strictly business. She strode over and grabbed the box, shoving it roughly into her bag. She turned to leave and yet…
Sith spit.
Before Emma knew what she was doing she had fired her pistol on the controls of the cell and swept in to heft the small body up into her arms. The boy settled against her, winding arms around her neck.
He cracked an eyelid, blearily turning his head to look at her warily before burrowing his face into the rough material she had thrown about her shoulders. Something in Emma melted at the trust the boy was placing in her.
But then she was a lot bigger than him. He probably understood where he sat in the pecking order of the galaxy if the state he was in and his living conditions told her anything.
She shifted him into one arm, made sure the box she came with was secure in the bag under her cloak and made her way out into the dark hallway again with her precious cargo.
Emma made it 10 steps from the walls of the palace before she heard the panicked shouts of guards and the pounding of feet.
That will be that then…
She took off into the shadows offered by the low buildings of the city, breathing hard from the weight of the boy still limp against her. He was jostled around as she ran, ducking around corners and hurrying along emptied alleyways but his skinny arms tightened around her neck.
“What is your name boy?” Emma grit out as she turned another corner.
He bounced lightly as she jumped over some fallen refuse, “Henry” she had to strain her ears to hear the quiet whisper.
“Henry, I am Emma. I need you to do me a big favour Henry.” She felt him nod against her shoulder as she heard the shouts of pursuit. “I need you to be my eyes – tell me what’s going on behind us. I can’t turn around and run quickly so I need you to help me, alright?”
“There’s light coming around the corner,” Emma was breathing hard from the combined weight of Henry and the adrenaline pumping through her. She needed to hide for a moment. Needed to catch her breath. She was far from The Bug, too far for her to keep up this mad chase at this pace. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself onwards, trying to work out where she was. She had a feeling she was going the wrong direction.
Suddenly, there was a clamouring coming from her right, Gammoreans snarling as they piled down the alleyway towards them. Emma swore and swerved away down a narrow street, hissing as pistol blasts struck all her.
“They are following us, Emma,” Henry shouted in her ear, fear making his voice loud and squeaky, “There’s a lot of them, they’ve got guns!”
Emma had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as she ducked some clothes on a line “You don’t say! How many can you see?”
Ah! She spotted the spire of the spaceport between some buildings and dashed that way.
“10, maybe more.”
Crud. She couldn’t take on that many, not all at once.
Emma could feel anger surging up through her, pissed off, stressed and indignant all at once – how dare the universe present her with a moral choice and then rip it away from her. Emma was not religious but she did believe in something greater than the individual and that something had brought her to Henry. She pulled Henry closer still shifting his weight into her other arm. She didn’t know much about him, but she wasn’t letting him fall back into the Hutts hands.
Over her dead body.
Which was going to be swiftly arranged if she didn’t escape the crowd chasing her.
Emma twisted and turned through the streets, trying desperately to throw her pursuers off but she was in an unfamiliar part of Mos Eisley and they knew these streets. Desperation clawed a little at the back of Emma’s throat.
She turned sharply and skidded to a halt. A figure clad in black and danger blocked her way, hood shadowing their face, hand clenched around something silver and black. The snap hiss of violent energy rang out and a red blade illuminated the pale walls of the alley in a sickening hue.
Sith!
Emma gasped, expletives leaving her lips and she clutched Henry to her, eyes darting around for escape as she found herself trapped. Her heart leapt into her throat, missing a beat. She could hear the shouts of her pursuers getting nearer, so close, imminently about to close in on her.
“I’m sorry Henry, I tried,” she whispered to the boy, eyes on the shadows under the hood. Death in front, death, pain and misery behind.
“It’s ok, thank you for trying.” Her heart broke at the quiet sincere words at her ear, and the small hands clutching at her cloak. Resigned, he sighed and rested against her.
The shouts and threats rounded the corner and Emma could hear the group stumble to a halt behind her, the noise dying down to shuffled feet and snarls. Blades and chains clinked together and Emma could almost envision the restless group, eyes on their target, uncertainly eyeing the lightsabre and it’s owner.
She would not cry. She would not beg for her life. She was Emma Swan.
The cloaked figure moved forward, as though in slow motion, cloak billowing majestically.
This was it. The end of her charmed life and her fun. Emma closed her eyes, hoping that somehow news would get back to her crew and they would stick together, dysfunctional family that they were. Her crew were her family, her friends – her constants.
The sith flowed around her, “Run,” an eerily familiar voice said as they moved past her and towards the agitated group of guards. “Go now, and do not look back,” Emma caught the glint of dark eyes in the red light and the shine of perfect white teeth. A shiver ran down her spine as recognition prickled at the edge of Emma’s awareness but urgency overpowered everything else.
She leapt forward, a low dirty chuckle mixing with the hum of the dangerous weapon behind her spurring her own. She heard the changing tones of the lightsabre as she ducked into another alleyway, clapping her eyes on the spaceport walls some distance away. Far. But not unmanageable with the… diversion behind her. The shouts of a fight echoed through the streets, cries of pain and shouts of anger.
Not far to safety. She would dwell on this change of events when they were safe aboard The Bug and not being chased. Emma charged forward. Almost home.