Chapter Text
Days of waiting around on this god-forsaken planet, days of picking pockets and dodging questions, and you finally think you might have a way out.
You saw the ship as soon as it docked. You saw every ship that docked. The problem was finding one that a.) you could hide in and b.) didn’t have a whole crew that may try to murder you if they found you. This one seemed to fit the criteria. Hell, there only seemed to be one person onboard. Unsurprising, as it was a small ship, even more so than some of the clunkers that showed up around here.
Still, just to be on the safe side, you figured you’d tail the pilot for awhile, see what his business was. As soon as he stepped outside, you started to have doubts. You’d never seen anyone wearing armor like that. He was certainly a bounty hunter of some sort, that much was clear. He was visibly armed, and heavily armed, you might add, and his armor reflected the blazing desert sun like a light. It made him physically difficult to look at, but you couldn’t look away.
Maintaining your distance, you tailed him into the cantina, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room, just barely keeping the stranger in your line of sight. The first thing you noticed was the reactions of other patrons. Every being with eyes had their sights on him, but were all being painstakingly careful not to be obvious about it. Some looks were of disdain, other of simple unease. For one reason or another, they were nervous.
You weren’t sure if it was simply the artillery he carried or if there was something you weren’t comprehending about the stranger. These days, there was a lot you didn’t comprehend.
He was still one man. How dangerous could he be? You could be dangerous as well, if need be. Besides, ideally you’d be able to secure transport without his ever knowing. Get to the ship, hide out in some secluded niche of the cargo hold, then just stay quiet for a while. Shouldn’t take more than a day or two, depending on where the bounty hunter was headed.
Though you weren’t entirely sure he was a bounty hunter. If he was, he was in the wrong place to be looking for work. A tiny, backwater pit like this place barely had the capacity to house it’s own population, let alone bring in outside work. Though you supposed it might be the perfect hiding place for a fugitive in that case. In a sense, you were a fugitive. Not from the law, of course, not exactly. Though you weren’t much sure who the law even was anymore.
Whatever the case, you reckoned you had a little while to make your move. Refusing to waste any more time, you slipped out of the dusty cantina, tracing your steps back to ship that would be your salvation.
—
Getting into the ship had been the easy part. The ramp had been left down, the dock worker charged with repairs probably asleep on the job somewhere. The hard part had been finding a place to hide. The ship was even smaller on the inside than it had initially appeared. After some rummaging around the cargo bay (if you could even call it that), you found a loose panel in the floor that opened up to some kind of hidden cache or compartment. The panel had been difficult to remove, suggesting it hadn’t been moved in quite some time. Plus, the space was empty, suggesting it hadn’t been used in sometime and probably wouldn’t be used any time soon. It was the perfect place for a stowaway.
The compartment was definitely small, but you could survive being in there for a day or two. You just hoped that’s all it would take. Once inside, you were careful to replace the panel as tightly as it had been before. The last thing you needed was for that bounty hunter to accidentally kick it open just from walking over it. You had some space to move around thankfully, though you couldn’t quite stand up. Otherwise, there was even enough floor space for you to lay down.
The only problem you may encounter was staying quiet. After all, you were directly below the floor, only a thin sheet of metal separating you from the cargo hold. All it would take is an inopportune sneeze or cough to give you away. Hopefully, that bounty hunter wouldn’t be able to hear much through that thick helmet of his.
You settled in for the long haul, thankful you had managed to get your hands on a small meal of broth that morning. It might be awhile before you got to eat again. Hopefully the next planet would have even the slightest idea of what spices were.
———
The Mandalorian returned to his ship, tired but also content in a way, now that he was returning to something of a usual routine. With his guild status gratefully reinstated by Greef Karga and the Imperials off their back (for now), his main focus was on taking care of his Foundling. He knew he had to find the child’s home eventually, but he hadn’t the slightest clue where to start looking. Besides, he still needed money if they were to have food and a functioning ship. For now, he was content to finding new work. He had just returned from meeting a client, having taken on a new assignment. Thankfully, there were many planets on which the guild operated. If all went well, both he and the child would eat well for weeks to come.
Speaking of the child, the Mandalorian’s first task upon reentering the ship he called home was to go check on the kid. He’d left it in the usual compartment in the middle of a nap. Seeing as he’d barely been gone a few hours, the kid was hopefully still asleep.
Upon seeing the compartment empty, the Mandalorian’s heart rate spiked, despite this having happened on numerous occasions. He spun around to begin his frantic search only for the little womp-rat to be standing behind him, not a care in the world for the alarm he’d caused his foster parent.
The Mandalorian wanted to be mad, and he really tried, but it just wasn’t worth it. Besides, the kid had a way of getting to him with those big round eyes, so full of natural curiosity. Not that he’d admit it, of course.
With the kid by his side, he made his way to the cockpit to plot their next destination.
——
Content that they were safely adrift for the time being, the Mandalorian sat back from the controls in contemplation. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a concrete location on his current target. The client didn’t have a tracking fob, which made this job considerably more difficult. Fortunately, there were other ways to track people. The target had last been seen in a particularly remote region of the outer rim. It was a starting point at least.
The Mandalorian sighed, realizing this job could take much longer than he’d like. At present, food and supplies were beginning to run low. He may have to soon reduce his own rations in order for the child to be able to get enough to eat. It was still growing, and likely would be for a very long time, and it’s health was his top priority at all times.
As if on cue, the child made a signature cooing sound, pulling the Mandalorian from his thoughts.
“What do you think?” He responded, knowing full well the child couldn’t understand him. Although the more he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what that child knew. For a creature that didn’t speak, it sure seemed to demonstrate a deeper understanding of things than most creatures of his relative age.
With another coo, this time of a higher pitch, the child got down from his seat and began making his way out of the cockpit. Normally the Mandalorian would stop him, but seeing as they weren’t going anywhere currently, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to indulge the child’s whims for once.
Following the child was a slow process, as his footsteps were significantly shorter than those of his caretaker, but the Mandalorian was in no particular hurry. He was curious as to what the child was so adamant on seeing.
With only minor assistance needed to open the entry hatch, the child had made his way clear to the opposite end of the ship all on his own. Upon entering the cargo hold, the Mandalorian gently scooped up the child who whined angrily in response.
“There’s nothing for you in here,” he said in his usual flat tone, “You could get hurt playing here. Let’s go.” The child wouldn’t hear it, however, struggling as much as his tiny limbs could muster in his caretaker’s firm hold.
Letting out a sigh, the Mandalorian relented, setting the child back down. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m keeping an eye on you. You’ll only get bored in here anyway.” He took a step back, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms as he watched the child wander the room.
——
You’d woken up when you heard the hatch to the cargo hold open. As the sound of heavy footsteps entered the room, you went dead silent, even keeping a hand over your mouth for good measure. You were certain the bounty hunter was back, though you had no clue what for. You’d only taken flight a couple of hours ago by your measure.
The sound of a voice sent your heart racing faster. Were there two of them? Did he bring a passenger back with him from the cantina? It seemed unlikely that anyone there would have willingly chosen to travel with him.
The even stranger thing was that you only heard one set of footsteps. Also, he seemed to be the only one speaking. You could even make out his voice from here, fairly monotone and ever so slightly modulated, no doubt from the helmet. He was definitely speaking to someone, but the conversation was one-sided.
For a few minutes, the room was quiet. You were certain he hadn’t left, but he had stopped moving. Closing your eyes to the little bit of light that filtered into your crawl space, you concentrated all your attention on any other sounds in the room. Eventually you thought you could make out a gentle, slow shuffling some feet away, but you hadn’t a single idea what it could be. It was far too light to be the bounty hunter. Did he have some kind of animal in here? Some kind of small pet? You certainly hadn’t seen or heard anything when you’d come in and you’d searched the room top to bottom.
The shuffling made its way closer to you until it was directly overhead. You plead desperately that if it was some kind of animal, it couldn’t smell you.
“What are you doing over there?” Your heart skipped a beat at the Mandalorian’s voice, and then another when you heard his footsteps coming your way. You held your breath, the only sound coming from you the racing of your heart.
The steps halted and the sound of something brushing the floor above you could be heard.
“It’s just a storage space, there’s nothing in there,” he said. You silently begged that he kept believing those words.
He seemed ready to walk away until you heard what you could’ve sworn sounded like a whine or some kind of cooing.
“I told you, there’s nothing—“ his voice stopped. You had no choice but to inhale just as he spoke, though you’d tried to keep it as quiet as possible. You feared it may not have been enough.
After what felt like an hour, he spoke again, “Hang on.” He walked away briefly, crossing to the other side of the room before returning. “You stay over there,” he ordered. The telltale sound of a blaster being removed from its holster told you that you were in trouble.
This was it, you figured. You were as good as discovered. There was nowhere for you to hide within the compartment and in a matter of seconds you’d no doubt be face-to-face (or rather, face-to-helmet) with an angry bounty hunter. You had no choice but to use the element of surprise to your advantage.
The second the Mandalorian’s fingers had pried up the metal panel, you leapt from your hiding place as a cornered Nexu would. He was caught off guard, however briefly, as the metal panel was flung from his grip into his face, preventing him from immediately shooting you. Within a second he had regained his composure, but that was all the time you’d needed. By the time his blaster was raised, you’d already drawn yours on the bounty hunter.
“Don’t. Move.” You watched him freeze before he could train his gun on you, but that wasn’t enough to stop your your hand from shaking. You gripped the blaster with both hands in an effort to hide your fear.
“Who are you? How did you get on my ship?” The Mandalorian’s words were less of a question and more of a demand, despite the fact that he was the one at gunpoint.
“You should be careful who you pay to fix your stuff,” you sneered. “Never know when they might be asleep on the job.” Despite the fact that you’d gotten the drop on him, you still got the feeling that he was in control of the situation and he knew it. “Now you’re going to take me to the nearest planet with a decent port and we can pretend like this never happened.”
“I’m not going to do that,” he said calmly, only infuriating you further. He even had the gall to set his weapon down while he threatened you. Who did he think he was?
“Look, I’m not messing around pal. All you had to do was leave me alone and I would’ve been out of your hair in no time. So really it’s your fault that—“ You made the mistake of taking a step closer, thinking that having a gun to this hunter’s head meant you were in control. Boy, were you wrong.
Faster than your brain could process, the bounty hunter turned and bent your arm upward, forcing you to fire a shot into the ceiling. Not that it mattered, however, as his increasing grip forced you to open your hand, the blaster clattering to the floor as you cried out. He then forced your arm behind your back and you fell to your knees, leaving you unable to defend yourself as you gritted your teeth in pain.
“That still doesn’t answer my first question. Who are you?” Though you couldn’t see his face (or helmet for that matter), you could tell that the voice in your ear was deadly serious. Still, if there was any plus side to the situation, it’s that he hadn’t killed you yet.
“If you’re going to kill me, then do it already,” you hissed, deciding to call his bluff.
“You and I both know that I’m not going to do that,” he said, once again frustratingly calm. “But if you don’t start talking now, I will not hesitate to keep you frozen in carbonite until I find whoever is willing to pay for your bounty.”
You relented, relaxing your shoulders as much as you could with both arms forcibly pinned behind your back. “There’s no bounty on me, I’m not a criminal.”
“Then why are you hiding on my ship.”
“I just needed a lift off that planet ok, and you seemed like an easy pick. Not too— AGH!” You yelped as he twisted your arm again, making sure you still understood the gravity of the situation. “—not too threatening. Clearly I was wrong.”
He was silent a moment, contemplating what you’d said. “Not many people would describe me as non-threatening.”
You couldn’t tell if he was being snarky or not. Whenever he spoke, his voice was completely calm and level, which was somehow worse. “You just looked like some bounty hunter, okay! How was I supposed to know?”
He paused again and you really wished he’d get on with it. You were losing feeling in your arms. You couldn’t tell if his silence was merely to annoy you or if he was just like that.
“Most people recognize a Mandalorian when they see one.” He didn’t say it with any sense of boasting, it was simply a matter of fact.
You thought for a moment, trying to think if you’d heard that anywhere before. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been around here that long and there was still a lot you didn’t know about just about the entire galaxy.
“I... I don’t know what that is. I’m not... from around here.” You chose your words carefully, hoping not to prompt any questions on the matter.
Whether he was content or not with your answer you didn’t know, but you were relieved when the pressure on your arms relented finally. The feeling was brief, however, as you were immediately put in handcuffs.
“What’s the big idea!? I thought we reached an understanding!” You turned to face him as you struggled to your feet. It was only now you realized what an imposing figure he is up close. He seemed to loom over you despite not possibly being more than a few inches taller. The blank stare of his helmet made him even more intimidating, as if he was as emotionless as a droid. As a matter of fact, you’d seen droids with more expression.
“If the understanding is that I’m leaving you on the next planet we come across, inhabited or otherwise, then yes, we have an understanding.” The Mandalorian had decided you weren’t a real threat and despite what people thought of him and his people, he wasn’t one for unnecessary violence.
“Wait, you’re just going to leave me in the middle of nowhere?” You took a step towards him as he began to turn away. “I can’t just survive the wilderness in any backwoods planet! Please, just wherever you were going next, whatever port, just take me with you and leave me there.”
The Mandalorian just turned his head slightly back towards you, as if weighing the pros and cons of your plan. Your story was strange and riddled with holes. It didn’t make any sense. You didn’t make any sense. He may be a man of few words, but he had a million questions.
“Do you not have anywhere to go? Anywhere specific?”
You’d been keeping quiet about your personal information as much as possible, but you didn’t have much left for options. “I... I don’t have anywhere to go, no. I just have to keep moving.”
“What exactly happens for someone like you to end up ship-hopping? You sound like you’re on the run.” The Mandalorian was sharper than people gave him credit for. From what little he understood of you, he could tell you weren’t the average vagrant. You wanted to keep moving, and were willing to put yourself in considerable danger to do so. The only reason you would do so was if you were running from something even more dangerous.
“Look, when I said I’m not from around here... I meant I’m really not from around here.” You looked away from him, hoping to end the conversation. Unfortunately you wouldn’t have such luck.
“That’s not an answer.” If you didn’t know better, you’d say there was just a hint of growing impatience in the Mandalorian’s voice.
Something snapped in you and it was enough to set you off. “You want answers? Fine. I’m on the run, okay?! There’s people after me that I’m pretty sure want to kill me, I’ve got no money, no allies, no family, and I’m trapped in a galaxy I don’t recognize anymore, alright?! Is that what you want? Does that answer your questions, Mandalorian?” You hadn’t realized until you finished your rant that you’d actually stepped closer to the bounty hunter. In fact, you were face to face, and this time you wouldn’t let him intimidate you. You glared at him with as much pure anger as you could muster. It was strange, seeing your distorted reflection facing back at you from the chrome surface of his helmet. You realized you looked like a crazy person. Probably sounded like one too.
The Mandalorian was hardly shocked by your sudden ferocity. He was even familiar with it. In his line of work, one came to recognize the face of prey when it had run out places to run. For once, however, he didn’t intend to be the hunter.
“Who’s after you?” was all he said. It was the only part he deemed important right now.
You took a step back, eyes widened in surprise. That was the last thing you’d expected him to care about. “I don’t entirely know,” you said, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “One day they captured me. I don’t even know for sure what they were going to do. They had a bunch of soldiers I think. They always talked about their empire or something like that. But what I’ve been hearing lately is that the Empire is gone so really I don’t know what’s going on.”
You couldn’t see it of course, but the Mandalorian had raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Empire. He had his own grudges against the now-defunct sovereign, of course, both cultural and personal. “Why would they be after you, exactly? You say you have nothing, what could they possibly want?”
Now was as good of a time as any to show off your little party trick, you supposed. “Like I said, I don’t know for sure. But I get the feeling that it may have something to do with this.” And with that, the cuffs around around your wrists clattered to the ground, the metal fizzling and warped beyond repair. You raised your open hands from behind your back and the Mandalorian took a rushed step backwards, hand hovering over his blaster but not yet drawing it.
“What was that?!” His patience was wearing thin. You were just one mystery after another, and he was certainly not getting the answers he’d asked for.
You kept your hands up in a display of peace. “To put it simply, it’s... a power of mine, for lack of a better word.” You slowly knelt down and reached for the smoldering remains of the cuffs. You kept one hand up in a show of surrender and never looked away from the Mandalorian. Holding the piece of metal out in front of you, you closed your fingers around it and focused your energy to your hand as you’d done a million times before. A brilliant white light emanated from your palm, the turning the metal to molten liquid, leaving your skin unscathed.
The Mandalorian looked on in awe. Beneath the steely facade of his helmet, his eyes were wide and eyebrows raised. This power of yours was unlike anything he’d ever even heard of, let alone seen. His mind turned to memories of the child and the mysterious powers it possessed. While it had never done anything quite like this, he couldn’t help but draw a connection between you and it.
What remained of the cuffs fell from your hand, little more than a molten lump now. The Mandalorian knew that if this was even a fraction of your power, than it made sense the Empire would be after you, the same way they’d been after the child.
“That’s definitely not something you see every day. I see why the Empire would be after you.” If what you’d said was true, then he wanted to help. Though he couldn’t yet trust you of course. For all he knew, this was an elaborate ruse and you were there to kill him. It wouldn’t be the first time. Just because he’d survived an Imperial squadron on one planet doesn’t mean they were done with him for good, he figured.
“So you see my problem then. So far I haven’t found anywhere that they don’t eventually find me. That’s why I have to keep moving.” You brushed your hands together quickly, casting off the last drops of the rapidly-cooling metal.
Now, the Mandalorian never saw himself as a particularly charitable man, nor was he very trusting. However, he definitely wasn’t the same as he had been even a year ago. Somehow, he’d become an adopted parent, a trusted ally to many, and even a friend to a few. To do so must require at least some level of kindness, whether he saw it or not.
An idea came to mind in his head. He knew it was a dangerous idea and he certainly expected it to backfire on him, but if there was even a sliver of a chance that another of the Empire’s victims could be saved, he felt honor-bound to try.
“Since you don’t have anywhere to go, what would you say to a job?” He may have worded it as a question, but there was really only one answer for you, provided he was being serious.
“Wait, what?” You were stunned. The man who had threatened you seconds ago was suddenly offering you what may be your last hope. “You’re really going to let me stick around?”
He could hardly believe it himself, but his mind was set. “I’m offering you work and in return, a place to hide out. Don’t get me wrong, if you cause problems for me, if you try anything funny even once, being stranded in the middle of nowhere will be the least of your worries.”
It didn’t take much for you to get the point, and you could tell he wasn’t bluffing. His voice had shifted almost imperceptibly, but that was all it took for you to fully grasp the threat. Luckily, you had no intentions of turning on him, though you knew getting his genuine trust was likely out of the question.
You straightened your back as much as possible, bringing you to your full height as you held out your hand. “It’s a deal, then.”
There was a moment of silence as you waited for the Mandalorian to shake your hand, but he refused. He’d seen what those hands could do. Instead, he gave you a nod along with a firm “Deal.”
From the opposite side of the room, a whine drew your attention. Or rather, not a whine but a squeak of sorts. A small, green, floppy-eared creature stood atop a crate. Its big, dark eyes peered right at you.
“What is that?” Your tone was not of disgust but rather of genuine amazement. You’d seen some very strange things recently but this little gremlin was something else entirely. It was surprisingly adorable in an alien sort of way.
“It’s a child,” the Mandalorian said defensively, quickly making his way across the room to pick up the child, who cooed happily at the attention.
“Sorry, I just haven’t seen anything like it before, that’s all I meant. Is it uh... is it yours?” You suddenly wondered if the Mandalorian looked like that under the helmet. All green and... wrinkly.
“Don’t worry about it,” was all the answer you got. “He stays with me. All you need to worry about is your first job.” He turned and made his way to the door, motioning for you to follow.