"Gigantic psychotic asshole. Next question!"

That narrows it down not at all.

"What's your old job?"

"I would think the laser gun gave it away but okay, sure, it was killing people."

"Um."

"I really did not have as much agency and choice in the matter as you are expecting me to have had, here. I got out as soon as I could. And now I'm a free woman who may or may not be being hunted down by an assassin cult!"

"See, 'assassin cult' is a lot more informative than just killing people! Lots of different jobs involve killing people, like the Military Police or hired hitmen. Not all killing people jobs are created the same.

"I also feel like there's something I should be saying about how having a cult of assassins coming after you is maybe something you should disclose to people you're hitching a ride from before doing that but let's be real here we picked you up after running into a fresh massacre you caused in the desert, we have no room to complain."

"You really, really don't. Honestly, this is probably the best car I could possibly be hitching a ride in right now. You introduced yourself, Zash. Or should I call you Mr. Stampede. Is that a last name, or like, a title? Mr. The Stampede?"

"We're just rapid fire removing all the mysteries present, aren't we..."

"You bet, his unnamed and featureless accomplice!"

.... she has the urge to grumble about that, because if she's going to be wanted she would like to be wanted on her own merits, damn it. But also: that would be dumb, and she should not want to be wanted at all. Grumble.

"You know, you'd think that would matter a lot, but this isn't even the first time my name's been on the news and yet I still run into people sufficiently uninformed they don't know about it. And usually the ones who do know about it go, like,"

"'Aah! Help! Zash the Stampede! The Human Typhoon! Get away!'"

He gesticulates wildly in fake terror (though not interfering with Yvette's driving) as he says it.

"Oh, hell, I'm sorry, did I ruin the reveal for you? Hold on, hold on, uh."

"A wanted criminal??? I'm in the car with The Human Typhoon??? Aaa! I, a completely uninvolved civilian with no combat experience whatsoever am doomed! Doomed!!!"

"What the hell has my life become," wonders Yvette.

Zash cracks up. "I, like, her," he says in between bouts of laughter and lack of breath. "Can we, keep her?"

"If she's not psychotic and will keep the delicate noncombatant in the car from becoming riddled with holes or squished or something, by the apparent assassin cult after her, sure, fine."

"Aw!! I've been adopted."

"Wanted fugitive buddies!" he says, offering his closed robot fist for a fist bump.

Fist bump!

"Technically speaking I'm not wanted by any actual government entities but otherwise YEAH!"

"Governments are just gangs that got enough territory they can pretend to be the good guys," he says with a shrug.

"Hah! Not wrong!"

They seem to have bonded quickly. This is confusing and strange and she misses her guide that put things into context and made the world seem like something she could maybe navigate instead of way too big and crazy for her. (Too bad she got him killed.)

Well, if the strange ex-assassin is now going to be in her car for some reason, she might as well pull her weight. And her gigantic cross's weight, too.

"Hey, how good are you at navigation?"

"Decent! Why, is this ride to anywhere in particular?"

"I'd like to get to the port of Terminal as soon as possible."