Cad Bane - The Concept of Trust

Taking down a prey

She was not happy with one particular job a year later. Dead or alive contract, taking a gun trader to the Hutts. Bane told that the Phindian had been selling to wrong customers, and gotten himself on the bad side of one of the Hutt families. There was way too little intel, only scraps here and there, too many open questions. She was leaning over the table, her upper body comfortably resting on elbows, feeling mildly irritated when going through the data. Suddenly she felt Bane leaning over her, pressing himself against her. She chuckled. Bane had an affinity for seeing her in this particular position.

"How's it going?" Bane asked, his head right over her shoulder, watching the data pad, eyes narrowed.

"Not good. Too many gaps, and I cannot think where I could retrieve more information. This guy is careful."

She felt Bane pressing himself more intensely against her. The Duros' hands started opening her belt.

"Now who's a distraction?" she said, chuckling, but returning the favour. She pressed herself against him, and fondled his neck over her shoulder, still trying to focus, and watch the data pad in vain.

"Don't mind me." She felt Bane's breath on her neck as he growled in her ear, and pleasurable shivers went through her spine.

Well, things did go seriously wrong with that particular contract. There was much more opposition than they had learned, and who knew how this Phindian had gotten his long arms to high grade military droids? Seriously? As if several BX -series commando droids were not enough, the asshole even had one droideka to protect him. She swore in durese, curses she had picked up from Bane during the years, and vowed she'd renew some of her military contacts to be able to get more easily to classified information, even if it meant some work without the payment.

Things escalated fast for the worse, and she was cursing in a way that would have made a Weequay pirate to blush, fending off the attacks with her blasters. The Phindian had hired mercenaries, and had B1 droids on top of everything. They had thought to get in without being noticed, and had run right into the ambush. Great work. She blamed herself, she should have seen this coming, but it didn't help to cry over spilled Bantha milk. It was not like fighting droids was anything new to either of them, even more so to her, though that was a part of her life she did not discuss. Well, she did not discuss any part of her life, so it made no difference.

The droideka was the biggest problem. Its shields were impenetrable to their blasters, and the heavy gun spraying bolts was deadly, preventing them from getting any closer.

"Can you lure the droideka out over there?" she shouted to Bane, pointing to a pass between two walls.

"Is there a good enough reason to risk my neck?"

"Destroying it good enough for you?"

"Acceptable."

She made a run for it, dropping a couple of droids and a Rodian mercenary on her way to the pass. She was glad to have tactical armor on, as some bolts hit its durasteel plates from behind, stinging like her back was on fire. The armor was something Bane had brought her a year back, dropping it ungraciously on the table just before a mission. She had frowned when seeing it. She hated armors. Those things restricted movement, and made her feel clumsy as hell.

"Just try it on." Bane had said flatly. "It's custom made, lighter than normal armors, but having durasteel plates on the right places."

She had been about to object, but the word "custom" caught her attention. She had glanced at Bane, and tried it on. It had been surprisingly light, giving her more freedom of movement than she had thought.