Chapter Text
Everything around you is happening so rapidly, in flashes. Red, surrounding you, clouding everything around you...
It’s blood. Blood--blood on your hands, you realize. Blood on the ground around you, on you--on everything. Your vision is so blurry you can barely make out the shapes around you. You’re sobbing, your chest aches, burning, smoke and ash in your lungs, you try to cry out but barely any sound comes through. A rushing in your ears so loud you can barely hear.
You're desperately applying pressure beneath you, but the bleeding won’t stop. You beg and plead to the maker, the universe, whatever could possibly hear you, whatever could possibly help you, you're so desperate. you’re trembling, shaking so hard you can’t keep steady despite trying so hard to keep the pressure on the gushing wound beneath you...
Another flash, you can’t see anything anymore, everything is too blurry, but you feel something brush up to your cheek, you lean into it. It’s comforting, but the burning in your chest only gets worse, your sobbing doesn't stop. The brush on your cheek is so tender, so precious, but so painful. So bittersweet...
More red, another flash, and now a sound, cutting through the white noise that fills your ears--a steady beeping. Through your clouded vision you can barely make out the light flashing on the bomb that's been set to detonate in his hand. You press your forehead to something cold, and you squeeze your eyes shut, blackness engulfing your vision, only the faint blinking of the light shining through your eyelids...
Suddenly, everything is crystal clear. The feeling of his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you tighter against the cool metal of his helmet, the warmth of the blood gushing out of the wound you are still so desperately applying pressure to, and when you open your burning, sobbing eyes, the crystal clear reflection of the bomb blinking in the corner of his visor. The light growing brighter, and the beeping growing faster, louder, and louder---so LOUD--
You shoot up with a sharp gasp in your seat, absolute panic still consuming you, the beeping from the bomb still going off rapidly--
no...you realize suddenly.
The beeping from the cockpit of your ship, you're dropping out of hyperspace.
You’re shivering, covered in a cold sweat, things slowly starting to come back to you. It was another nightmare. You must have fallen asleep while you were still in hyperspace. You glance over to the helmet in the copilot seat next to you, the familiar visor staring at you, hollow. The stars reflecting off the tint of it, and the beat up, once glossy copper accents framing it. You try to get your breathing under control while you shakily take hold of the ship's controls, flicking off the alarm and getting ready to break through the atmosphere of the planet thats suddenly in front of you.
This is going to be rough. This ship, if you can even call it that, is a piece of shit. It’s barely holding together, you were shocked it was even able to make the jump into hyperspace in the first place. It's trembling dramatically under you, as you try to hold her steady while you descend.
“Talk about a bumpy ride,” you barely mutter to yourself through gritted teeth as you struggle against the violent rattling of the hunk of metal surrounding you, suddenly very thankful you were already buckled in.
Suddenly the whole ship lurches violently despite your firm hold on the controls as you break into the atmosphere, and alarms start blaring deafeningly throughout the cockpit, the ship is barely holding together at this point. You clench your jaw tight, this is going to be a rough landing. Another violent jerk of the ship and you feel something big break off. You can’t even begin to think about what it is though, because you are quickly losing control entirely. You are descending much too fast, and there's nothing you can do about it. Alarms blaring in your ears as you try to make this the softest crash landing possible. The sandy surface of this planet is coming quick, until it's all you can see.
You violently collide with the ground, you can't see anything, sand shoots up all around the ship blinding you. You had tried to hit a good angle coming down, but your ship slides through the sand, bounces back up, and rolls twice. You get roughly knocked around in your seat and you wack your head pretty hard on the dashboard in the collision, you black out.
You groan, slowly coming to, clutching the sore spot on the side of your head while you try to collect yourself. Maker, it HURTS, you can feel the pulsing behind your eyes and you’re seeing stars, your vision blurry from the impact. You shakily undo your seatbelt, and try to lift from your seat, hand still clutching the side of your head. Everything on you hurts, you know you’re going to be covered head to toe in bruises despite being buckled in the whole time. You tap the nav console in the center of the dashboard, but nothing, unresponsive. The whole ship has gone completely dead. No more flashing lights and blaring alarms. Just the slight groaning of the metal struggling to stay together after the crash.
“Well fuck…” you sigh out, but then the dread and anger hit you all at once. A pit pooling in your stomach and rising up tight in your chest like an inferno, You had scrounged together every last credit you had for this piece of shit, and now it's absolutely trashed. It would cost you more than its worth in repairs, if it can even be repaired. You would bet all your remaining credits it was far beyond saving. You violently slam your fist down into the control panel, cursing loudly into the cockpit. You needed this ship, badly. How were you supposed to collect bounties without it? How could you afford a new one? You bang your fist into the control panel again, then slump down defeatedly back into the pilot's seat, resting your elbows on the edge of the control panel and leaning forward to burying your head in your hands.
You take a deep breath in and run one of your hands through the hair framing your face as you lean back in the seat and let the same breath out. You turn your head slightly to look over to the copilot's seat, but you shoot back up to your feet when you find the seat is empty. Your heart is racing again. Where is it? Where did it go? You frantically scan the floor of the cockpit, desperately looking for even the smallest glimpse of it. When you finally catch sight of the familiar hunk of metal in the far corner, you rush over and drop to your knees next to it. You carefully pick up the heavy beskar helmet and rotate it so the familiar T of the visor is staring empty at you. You breath out heavily as you press your forehead to it, clutching it so tightly in your hands. You pull away to inspect for any damage--well any new damage at least. The helmet was in bad shape. It had a couple dents and gashes in it, the paint that once coated it so beautifully now chipped and worn, the small crack in the corner of the visor catching the light. You sigh at it, realizing you probably wouldn't even be able to tell what's new and what's not at this point.
“Well,” you breath out to the helmet as if it could hear you, “no point in wallowing, right?” You stand from where you were kneeling on the floor, tucking the helmet under your arm. “We’ve got a bounty to catch.” And with that you step into the hull of the ship, trying your best to ignore the mess caused from the crash, all of your belongings thrown about and scattered unceremoniously throughout it. You find your go bag and sling it over your shoulder. Then head to the exit ramp to leave, but pausing before you step out into the sandy environment to slowly slide the helmet from under your arm, over your head, with a click.
You hate desert planets. You're burning up under your bulky beskar. It barely fits you, so you have to bulk up under it to make sure it stays on properly. It doesn't look as awkward as it feels, and no one can tell how much you're sweating under the helmet, but maker, you’re miserable. With every step you can feel the soreness lingering from the crash earlier. It was quite a walk to the nearest settlement. You’re in some kind of marketplace. It’s bustling and busy, vendors lining the sand covered streets selling all kinds of wares, a lot of it junk.
You’re in a terrible mood. Between crash landing your one and only ship, the heat of this planet baking you alive under your armor, and the sand that you can feel working its way uncomfortably into your boots, you’re seething with anger. You swear it would only take one local giving you the wrong look for you to snap and break their neck with your bare hands alone. You bet it shows in the way your walking, you're used to people staring at this point, it comes with wearing beskar, but the way people are quickly stumbling to get out of your way as you angrily stride through the streets, crowds parting for you so you can pass, you know you probably seem more intimidating than usual.
Stepping into the nearby cantina, is instant relief. It’s much cooler in here, but you try not to relax too much and lose that power in your stance as you enter. Something feels off, when you notice the reactions in the bar. The stares and hushed whispering were normal to you, but something about it was different this time. Maybe the heat was getting to your head. You stride over to the bar and silently take a seat. The patron in the seat next to yours, quickly gets up to move away from you, and you don’t even bother to look in his direction.
The bartender in front of you, polishing glasses speaks before you get the chance, “Let me guess, you want information on the bomber.” You tilt your visor up to him a bit surprised. How did he know? “You’re friend already came by, I told him everything I knew, I’ve got nothing else for you.”
Now you’re really confused. You cock your helmet slightly to the side quizzically without saying a word. Friend? You don’t have any friends. And definitely not any you would be working on a bounty with. Not anymore at least. The bartender seems to catch your confusion so he continues, “The other mandalorian.” Other mandalorian? There was a mandalorian here hunting your bounty? when you don't move he elaborates, “The big one, uh you know--real shiny guy, all chrome and whatnot…” the bartender trails off not knowing how else to describe him.
Well, that's surely interesting. Suddenly you decide maybe you need to investigate this...shiny mandalorian. You nod at the bartender as a quiet thank you as you rise silently from your seat at the bar. You toss a couple credits onto the counter for the information, even if it's not what you were initially looking for. The bartender at the sight of the credits points you in the direction of where he had seen this mysterious mandalorian head off to, likely understanding now, that the two of you were most likely indeed, not friends.
It doesn’t take long to spot him. He must have just left the cantina not too long before you arrived, he was close by, and the reflective beskar stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd that was parting for him in the same way it had for you. You kept your distance, keeping out of sight but trailing behind just enough that you wouldn't lose him. You knew damn well, that he probably knew you were following him, any truly skilled bounty hunter would realize that fact, let alone a mandalorian. Your theory was proved correct when he suddenly took a turn and dipped into an alleyway. You weren’t trying to sneak up on him, but you still kept your distance, turning the same corner and following him until you lost the crowd completely. The both of you walking to a part of town with no one, the bustling of the marketplace becoming faded white nose in the background. He makes a few more turns and you follow a few feet behind, until you go to turn the next corner and he's gone, no longer in front of you.
But you’re no fool, in a flash you whip around behind you, your blaster unholstered and pointed straight in front of you. He’s standing there, his own blaster mirroring yours. You both stand there, perfectly still, unmoving, blasters pointed to each other, fingers on their respective triggers. He speaks first, “Why are you following me?” but he doesn't move an inch
“Why are you hunting my bounty?” you quip back. Making sure to stress the fact that this is ,your bounty, not his. You need those credits, you can’t afford to let them slip away from you when you have no way off this sandy shithole.
He tilts his visor at you slightly but doesn't reply. So you continue, “The bomber is mine, I suggest you find someone else to hunt down. I’ve got this one handled.” and by that, you mean if he does anything to compromise your ability to collect this quarry, you won't hesitate to kill him too, and you know he knows it...doesn’t he? The mysterious mandalorian doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move a muscle and neither do you. The silence between the two of you carries a tension just as deadly as the blasters you have pointed at each other.
With him standing in front of you like this, you’re able to get a better look at him. You look with only your eyes, careful not to move your head at all, as to not give him any indication you’re looking anywhere other than his visor, which is staring deadpan into yours. The bartender wasn’t exaggerating when he said this strange mandalorian was shiny and chrome. His beskar armor is unpainted, and beautiful, not a single flaw. You’ve never seen anything like it before. Whoever forged that for him was truly skilled in their craft.
“Your beskar,” You suddenly nod in his direction after the silence drags out far too long, “it’s new.” He still doesn't say anything. He’s giving you nothing. You’ve been doing this job awhile, there's usually something you can pull from, a slight change in breathing, tensing on the shoulders, anything to know what your enemy’s intentions are, but him....he's giving you nothing. “I’m looking for a forge master.” You hope by elaborating, you make your own intentions clearer.
“An Armorer?” he questions, and you nod once slowly. “Don’t have one in your clan?” He tilts his visor at you in inquiry, and you slowly shake your head once.
“I have no clan,” and you can sense his confusion so you continue, “I’m no mandalorian.” you confess, and instantly his blaster arm straightens and you hear the click of his safety switch off. You expected nothing less.
“Beskar belongs to the mandalorians. Hand it over.” His voice is dark and firm in his demands, but you can't help but scoff.
“I may not be a mandalorian, but this armor is mine.” your voice darkens threateningly, “It belonged to someone very important to me, passed down in their family for multiple generations. They’re gone, so now it's mine and I will die defending this armor in their honor.”
“Did you inherit it from your father?” his voice through the modulator is firm, unwavering, and when you shake your head, he tries again, “Your mother?” You shake your head again. “Then it’s not yours, take it off...or I will” he threatens taking a step forward.
You take that step forward as an attack in itself, there's no way in hell anyone will take this armor from you, you quickly lunge towards him in a flash and he goes for you. You go to grab for his blaster, but at the same time he grabs yours and next thing you know, both your blasters are skittering across the sand in opposite directions. You both snap your gaze back and your visors meet each other, pausing for just a second before you're immediately swinging in his direction, aiming directly for his unarmored throat. He catches your fist, and swings with his free hand, you duck expertly out of the way and knee him right in the gut below the beskar chest plate. He doubles over, but manages to kick out one of your ankles causing you to stumble, and he goes for another swing. You jump back the best you can, and punch him perfectly in his unarmored side. He groans loudly at the impact, and stumbles back, but then before you know it, he gets you right back, and then again, his beskar fist colliding with the side of your helmet. It knocks you to the ground, your vision blurs again reminding you of your earlier injury from the crash. You shake your head and try to regain your footing, but he lunges down to grab you. You both struggle on the sandy ground before you get a hold of one of his arms and kick him up with both feet, hauling him over you, so he lands roughly on his back behind you.
He scrambles to get up, but you’re too quick, you’re on top of him pressing the mouth of his own blaster under his jaw. He doesn’t move and the only thing that can be heard is the rough modulated breathing of the two of you through your helmets. He moves the slightest amount, you're not sure if it's to adjust or to try to get up but you won’t risk it. You press his blaster farther to the underside of his jaw and click the safety off, a threat you think he understands well. You will absolutely not hesitate to kill him if he makes a wrong move. You’ve had a bad day, blowing a hole through his head would be the first good thing to happen to you, but at the same time, he clearly knows where to find what you're looking for and you want to get that information from him before you kill him.
“The armor is mine,” you say gruffly through your heavy breathing. You nudge the blaster into him again, just to make sure you’re being clear, “and if you, or anyone so much as lays a finger on it, I will kill you.” He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move an inch. Neither do you.
Instantly heat blasts against the side of you, and white noise erupts in your ears, a powerful force sends the both you flying sideways and slamming into the wall of the other building next to you, smoke and sand fly up and surround the air around you. You’re groaning as you slowly try to pick yourself up off the sandy floor, the heat from the fire building next to you quickly heating up your armor. It takes you a second to realize what's going on. The bomber. You had almost forgotten about your bounty, you were so transfixed on the strange mandalorian next to you, grunts coming from his modulator as he struggles to his feet. There's another explosion next to you and you try to keep steady scanning with your visor through the smoke to see if you can catch a glimpse of your quarry--and there! It's quick, but unmistakable as you see his heat signature duck away behind the roof of a neighboring building.
“Stay out of my way.” you spit darkly at the rival mandalorian, before turning and breaking into a sprint in the direction of your bounty.
It doesn’t take you long to catch up to him. You're running through the alley beneath the cloaked bomber while he jumps from roof to roof above you, desperately trying to shake you off his tail. He throws explosives in your direction, but you evade them expertly, bursting through the clouds of smoke and sand just when he thinks he's gotten you. He thinks he's being smart when he decides to throw another explosive ahead of you this time, blocking the rest of the alley with rubble from the surrounding buildings as their walls crumble. He lets out a loud and victorious laugh as he continues to run, celebrating far too early, not realizing he's made a critical error.
Instead of the rubble halting you in your pursuit, you use it to your advantage, nimbly leaping off a large piece and hauling yourself into the roof. Now that you're level with him, and off the maker forsaken sand, you start gaining on him, quick. He looks back in horror at you and tries to speed up, but you both know it's futile. You would have shot him already, but you left your blaster in the sand, forgetting to pick it up after the explosion, so you have to use other means. You grip the vibroblade strapped to your thigh and unsheath it. You’re just about to lunge for him, grab him and pull him to the ground, but something hits him and he drops instantly onto the roof below him.
You come to a screeching halt, almost tripping over his body. What the hell happened to him? You look down at him, convulsing on the floor, he's been stunned, quite literally electrified. You immediately know who's responsible and angrily look up to see that damned shiny mandalorian a few roofs away, lower his rifle and start to stride across to you. The sun reflecting off the top of his helmet in such an irritating way.
“I told you to stay out of my way!” you shout in his direction, “This is MY bounty! I’ve got it handled!” you grab a pair of cuffs off your belt and drop to your knees to cuff the bastard below you roughly despite his lack of resistance.
“You were too slow.” he says matter-of-factly as he approaches you. Oh you could kill him, you're tempted. The fact that he not only had the audacity to take down your bounty, but now dares to mock you? It would be an absolute pleasure to sink your blade into his neck.
Your thoughts are cut short when a gloved hand holds your blaster down to you. You look at it in confusion, then tilt your helmet to look up at the reflective beskar staring down at you. He nods towards you and nudges the blaster towards you again. You snatch it from his grip and put it in your holster without a word, and haul yourself up onto your feet with the bounty. Keeping a firm grip on his cuffed wrists behind his back while he struggles to hold himself up, “Bounty is mine.” you remind him, your visor burning a hole through his with how intensely you stare.
“I shot him down,” he reminds you.
“I had it handled,” you shoot back at him. Suddenly you’re curious, and you have an idea. You tilt your helmet up at him, if this works, you might have a solution to your crash landing earlier. “How much are they offering you? For the bounty.” He doesn't answer, you assume it's because he doesn’t trust you, so you offer your commission price readily, “Mines ten thousand.” with the way his visor snaps straight ahead in response, you know you have him beat. Probably by a lot. “I’ll tell you what,” you continue, “let's split the reward.”
He cocks his helmet to the side in surprise...or possibly confusion? Maybe both. You can't really tell. So you repeat yourself, “let's split the reward. Five thousand between the two of us.”
“What's the catch?" Well, it’s not a no, so far so good.
“I need a ride,” you admit with a modulated sigh running through your helmet, “I had a bit of a rough landing. My ship’s scrapped."
"Five thousand credits isn't enough for a ship."
"That's not your problem. We'll part ways after we split the credits. We got a deal or not?"
"Only if you hand over that beskar when we split the credits."
You pretend to mull it over in your head, but you know that nothing in the universe could possibly convince you to give up your armor. You will die with it, and even in death you will take it to your grave.
"I'll consider it." you say finally. You know it's not what he wants to hear, but you hope it will be enough.
"Then it's a deal." He nods and doesn't say anything more, just starts walking in what you assume is the direction of his ship, so you kick the heels of the bounty you're still holding up by the cuffs.
"Move it." you snap at him and start pushing him forward as you follow the silver armor ahead of you. The bounty is still barely hanging onto consciousness, dragging his feet, you're doing most of the work for him.
Then suddenly the bounty stops all together like dead weight, digging his heels in, refusing to budge.
"I said move it!" you nudge him again roughly, more aggressive this time, but the bomber doesn't comply. His shoulders start shaking, rumbling beneath you, it takes you a second to realize he's laughing. "what's so funny?" you jostle him lightly to encourage a response. and at that, he throws his head back and starts laughing maniacally. That shock bolt from earlier must have done something to him, fried his brain or something. He just keeps laughing, like he can't control it. the mandalorian in front of you has stopped walking, and turned back around to you and the bounty to investigate the commotion.
"You're too late" the bounty spits out darkly between laughs, and he roars out louder, finding whatever it is he's going on about absolutely hysterical.
"What are you talking about? you roughly yank him around to face you and his laughing subsides leaving a sickening smile ripping across his face. He cranes his neck to look back at the bustling marketplace and begins roaring with laughter once again. but he's cut off at the sound of multiple pieces of metal hitting the tile of the roof in front of him.
"Talking about these?" the mandalorian asks, tossing another destroyed detonator bomb to the bounty’s feet. and the bomber looks at the pile horrified. it doesn't take long for you to put two and two together. This shiny mandalorian must have caught onto the bomber's plan early on and found all the hidden explosives long before you ran into him.
The bomber continues to stare down at the destroyed explosives in distress, realizing his plan failed, before that same sickening smile breaks out across his face and he chuckles out, “You missed one.”
He bursts back into a horrible laughter, and you suddenly have a pit in your stomach at the sound of it, you yank the bounty roughly by the neck, “Where is it?” your voice is rough and threatening, but he just continues to laugh maniacally. You can’t take it, todays been too much and his horrible laughter pushes you over the edge. Still grasping at his throat, you slam your armored fist hard straight into the center of his face, cutting his laughter off all together. He hangs his head limply, blood dripping down from his mouth, where his disgusting smile once was. “Where is it?” you grit out, pulling him in close to your visor with your grip tightening around his throat.
The bounty in your grip lifts his head just enough so his gaze meets your visor, and he smiles again brokenly, blood continuing to drop down from the middle of it. “Who knows?” he shrugs. Then spits blood at your visor, chuckling again weakly at you. Your veins turn to ice at the blatant disrespect and you can’t help yourself. You slam your fist into him again, harder this time, sending him flying to the ground at your feet, unmoving, out cold from your attack. Your stare lingers on the bloodied bounty beneath you too long, violence swirling through you. How dare he--how fucking dare he disrespect the armor like that--how dare he disrespect him like that.
Your fists clench at your sides, as you try to calm yourself. Your helmet snaps to the chrome mandalorian besides you, his visor shamelessly staring directly at you. You wonder if he can sense the anger whirling inside of you. “Where did you find the others?”
You manage to grit out through your tight jaw. “The explosives.” Everything about you is rigid and tense from the altercation.
“At vendor tables he was harassing a few days ago, after the first bombing at a neighboring settlement. I checked all of them.” The chrome helmet doesn't move its gaze off of you. He's standing statuesque, unmoving. You look back to the bomber still unconscious on the floor. You’re trying to rack your brain, think where the last explosive could possibly be. You haven't even had the chance to investigate anything yet, you didn’t even get a chance to gather information, you immediately ended up tangled up with the strange mandalorian next to you when you made it into town. That’s when it hits you--the cantina.
“Did you check the cantina?” you snap your visor to meet his again, and he shakes his head. “Keep an eye on him,” you nudge the bounty on the floor with your foot, then take off in the direction of the bar without another word. You have to be quick, you don’t know how much time is left until the bomb detonates and kills everyone in that cantina.
The bartender greets you when you rush in, “Ah! Your back! Did you find your friend?” but you ignore him, you don't have time for pleasantries. You start scanning the entirety of the bar rapidly, looking for any sign of anything unusual. You don’t even know where to begin, patrons staring at you and murmuring to each other while you silently search around--but then you hear it. The faintest of noises barely cutting through the hum of the scene around you. You follow the sound of the achingly familiar beeping, it's at the bar, close to where you sat earlier today. The bartender mistakenly thinks you’re walking over to him directly, and panics at the way you’re striding over in his direction, with purpose. “H-hey, listen-- I don’t know what I did, but i'm sure we can work something out--there's no need for any un--unnecessary violence...,” he backs up nervously, his hands out in front of him trying to show he's unarmed and willingly surrendering.
You continue to ignore him, and he swallows audibly as you make it to the edge of the bar, but you immediately drop down to reach below it, snatching the blinking explosive from where it's stuck under the bar and rising back up, holding it in your hand. He stares at you--stunned. Now realizing what your intentions were as you toss the explosive to the ground and crush it with your boot. The light fades from within the device and you pick it back up, staring at the cracked device in your hand. Your mind wanders for just a second as you remember your nightmare from earlier, the painful memory that still haunts your dreams. The environment of the cantina fading entirely until it's just you, and the broken metal in your hand. You swear you can almost still see the faintest of light blinking from inside it.
“Thank you.” you snap back to reality at the bartender's words, suddenly realizing where you are. You nod at him once accepting his gratitude. “Drinks are on me--always! Forever! Anything you want, you can have, I owe you that much…” he fades off looking down to the destroyed explosive in your hand. You smile at him, knowing he can't see it, and nod again.
You’re about to reply, but the bartender cuts you off, looking behind you, “Ah! I see you found your friend!” You turn to look towards the entrance of the cantina, where you find the shiny and chrome mandalorian standing, the unconscious bounty slung over his shoulder, while his visor is staring at you. You hold up the destroyed piece of metal in your hand for him to see, and at that, he's already turning to head out. You go to follow him, but stop when you hear the bartender start to speak again, “Maker,” he breathes out, “I’ve heard stories of mandalorians before. Never thought I would see one in person--let alone two!” he chuckles to himself.
You turn your helmet in his direction over your shoulder without turning fully towards him, “I’m no mandalorian...” your voice ringing through the modulator at an audible volume, despite how quietly you feel you say it. You don’t wait for a response, you immediately continue your way outside of the cantina to catch up to the stranger carrying your bounty ahead of you.
When you finally arrive at his ship, just on the outskirts of town, you’re a little surprised to see his ship isn’t much nicer than yours was. It’s old and worn down. It looks like it's been abused to no end. “Are you sure you’re able to give me a ride? She doesn’t look like she would last the journey through the atmosphere…”
“Where’s your wreck? We’ll stop by so you can grab what you need.” You know he ignored your question on purpose, and he hits a button on his vambrace, which triggers the slow lowering of the ship's ramp, kicking up sand around it.
“I’ll punch the coordinates into your nav comp. Just get that asshole in carbonite.” You’re already climbing up the ramp to his ship, not waiting for an invitation, and walking into the dark of the ship's hull, its armored owner following close behind you, your bounty still slung over his shoulder unconscious. You take a quick look around as the ramp closes behind the two of you, dim lights illuminating the space. It’s not big by any means. You make note of all the crates and other miscellaneous goods neatly tucked around the hull’s nooks and crannies, it’s surprisingly cozy.
While the mandalorian moves past you towards the carbonite chamber, you take that as your sign, and you make your way up the ladder of what you assume to be the cockpit of the ship. Opening the door once you make it to the top and stepping inside, you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the control panel. It’s familiar enough, thank the maker. With how old the ship is you were expecting the controls to be unrecognizable and ancient, but you could pilot this. Easy. You step up to the navigation panel and punch in the coordinates of your wreck.
You go to sit in the pilot's seat and initiate for takeoff, but stop suddenly. This isn’t your ship, you should wait for him. You’re going to be stuck with this stranger of a mandalorian in hyperspace for an unknown amount of time, you don’t want to overstep and cause another scuffle. He's, unfortunately, your only way off this planet, and he's got your bounty. You should be considerate seeing as you’re a guest, and he's doing you a favor. A five thousand credit taxi ride...maker what a shitty deal you negotiated yourself into.
You settle into the copilots seat, and groan slightly as you sink into it. The soreness from the crash earlier is starting to settle in now that all your adrenaline from the day has worn off. Your glaring headache is becoming more and more unbearable. You reach up and, with a click and a hiss of the release, slide your helmet off your head and rest it in your lap. You breathe in deeply, maker...nothing beats the initial hit of fresh air when your helmet comes off. You lean back further in your seat trying to relax against the plush, worn leather seat. Everything aches, you're exhausted. You close your eyes and continue to breathe deeply as you enjoy the feeling of air hitting your face without your helmet. You don’t even hear the door to the cockpit slide open while you take a moment to relax.
He says something, as he approaches behind you, but you didn’t quite catch what it was, so you spin in your chair to face him, “Sorry,” you shake your head slightly, “I was zoning out, what was that?” but he doesn't say anything or move. The armored wall of a man looks frozen, tense, his body language is all rigid and weird compared to how he usually stands. You just stare back at him confused. Is there something outside? You look behind you and out the windows of the cockpit, feeling your hair brush against you at the movement. Nothing there. You turn back to him, “Uhh? Everything okay, shiny?” He continues to stand there staring at you, stiff as a board, before he suddenly looks away from you and makes his way to the pilots seat, sitting down without a word and initiating for take off.
What the kriff was that about? You continue to stare at him confused, hoping for an explanation, but he continues flicking the controls and grabbing hold of the thrusters to take off without a word. You know he's focused on flying, but at the same time, it's really starting to feel like he's purposely avoiding looking anywhere in your direction. You can’t help the way you tilt your head at him in suspicion, but you decide to let it go. You just met the guy, he doesn't owe you anything other than the ride you agreed on. But maker, is it going to bother you the whole time.
You ride the rest of the way to your ship in silence, luckily it's not too far and you make it there relatively quickly. The second his ship touches the sand next to yours, you jump out of your seat tucking your helmet under your arm. “I’ll be quick. I don’t have much.” you wait a second for a response, but he’s still avoiding looking at you, and doesn't say anything. You tilt your head at him again with growing suspicion, but head out regardless without another word.
Stepping back onto your trashed ship feels surreal. Looking at all your belongings scattered around and trying to decide what to take is upsetting. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, having to leave behind the majority of your belongings and start over, but it never gets easier. You pack mostly practical things, the essentials: clothes, medical supplies, rations, whatever weapons you have. You figure you should probably bring your blanket, you aren’t quite sure how long your journey will be and hyperspace is cold.
When you head over to your cot however, your gut wrenches seeing what you still had of his things scattered throughout the space. The old box you kept some sentimental items in had spilled, scattering the contents across your bed. Some of his old clothes, a crumpled note he left you once, you chuckle lightly to yourself at the memory of it. A necklace, he got it for you as a gift on Coruscant. You pick up his old sleep shirt that's bundled up in the corner and bring it up to your face, taking a deep inhale. It still smells like him. Despite sleeping with it every night, his scent still clings to the material. It's faint, not as strong as it once was, but it's there. Your heart aches, not a day goes by that you don’t miss him. You gingerly and lovingly fold it up neatly and pack it away with the rest of the belongings you plan to take with you.
You haul the large bags of your belongings over your shoulder, off your own ship and carry them up the ramp of the stranger mandalorian’s ship. You hit the control panel on the wall once you're inside, closing the ramp behind you. You set your things down in an unoccupied corner and make your way back up to the cockpit, helmet still under your arm. When you enter the cockpit however, you pause.
There’s a strange cooing coming from the pilot's seat where the mandalorian is sitting. Was...was that sound coming from him? There’s no way. You slowly make your way over so you can peer over his shoulder, you gasp at the sight of the green creature bundled up in his lap. It’s big dark eyes staring into yours. “What is that thing?” you mutter out, barely able to squeeze the words out as you stare at it curiously.
“A child.” You furrow your brows together at his answer. Well no shit. That was clearly a baby, but not like any baby you’ve ever seen. You don't recognize its species. Let alone the mystery as to why the mandalorian in front of you has it in his possession.
“Is it...yours?” you're not quite sure how to vocalize all of the questions running through your head. Is the mandalorian the same mysterious species under that beskar? How has he managed hunting bounties with a youngling on board?
“For now.” You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. You slowly lower yourself into the copilot’s seat, not once removing your gaze from the green baby in his arms.
“And that means?” You tilt your head and the baby mirrors you, cooing at you.
“He is mine until I can reunite him with his own kind. I’m looking for a jedi to take him on.” the baby reaches out to you babbling happily. You go to hold him, reaching out to take him from the mandalorian’s arms, but stop in an instant when his visor suddenly snaps up to look at you. He's doing that thing again, just staring at you intensely. You decide to ignore it, more transfixed by the baby.
“May I?” you tilt your hands still outstretched in front of you, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that he still doesn't trust you. He just met you, another bounty hunter, and now you're asking to hold his baby. Much to your surprise however, he allows it and cautiously hands the baby to you, his visor never moving from your face.
The baby coos happily and reaches up to you as you pull him to your armored chest. He’s adorable, the way his little teeth poke through his smile, it swells through your chest. Oh he is absolutely precious. You wiggle your finger at him and he latches his tiny green ones around it. You haven't even noticed the mandalorian still staring at you. “Does he have a name?” you press your finger lightly to the baby's nose and his little green smile grows larger as he giggles in response. You can feel yourself smiling too, you can't help it, it's contagious.
“Grogu.” You can still feel his visor on your when he replies.
“Little Grogu…” you repeat softly, stoking the baby’s cheek. His big ears perking up at the sound of his name. He reaches up with his little fingers, so you hold him up a little higher against your chest, and he grabs onto a piece of your hair. You chuckle lightly at how captivated he is by you, in the same way you are with him. “He’s adorable.” you finally break your gaze from the baby in your arms, looking up to the shiny wall of beskar sitting next to you. Your smile fades into a frown when you see he's still staring at you. Okay, this is getting weird. “What's your deal?” you snap out at him, the baby still babbling away in your arms, his little hands reaching out to touch your face and hair. “Why are you staring at me like that? We got a problem?”
The mandalorian quickly averts his gaze to the control panel, and begins initiating take off again, punching coordinates into the navigation. “No, sorry.” He mutters, barely audible through the helmets modulator.
“Then what is it? Is there something on my face?” and with that he pauses. Stops flicking switches for just a second too long, before continuing.
“No.” He grabs a hold of the thrusters and pulls back, lifting the ship off the ground, and taking off. Maker, his responses are so--frustrating. Absolutely infuriating. How many more questions do you have to ask before you get to the bottom of this? You decide to give up again, it’s not worth your efforts. Let him be difficult if he wants, you’ll forget about him soon enough when you part ways. You turn your attention back to Grogu, immediately your irritation dissolves into nothing. Maker, you’ve only held this child in your arms maybe five minutes and you are already absolutely enamored with him.
By the time you make the jump into hyperspace, the child has fallen asleep soundly in your arms. The mandalorian stands, and carefully takes him from you, descending the ladder into the hull with him to put him to bed, you assume. Now that you're alone in the cockpit, you look down to the helmet in your lap with a sigh. You grasp onto it lightly and tilt it up to stare into the visor. You reflect on your day; the crash, the scuffle with the strange mandalorian, the rush of trying to find the last bomb your bounty hid. Nothing ever goes smoothly for you anymore. Everyday feels like a struggle now that he's gone. It's been over a year since he died--almost two, you realize suddenly. The nightmares still plague you almost every night. You clench your eyes shut, and shake your head lightly trying not to think about any part of that horrible day. You should have died with him--you were supposed to. Whatever kind of sick joke the maker was playing, saving you and not him, you’ll never understand. You flutter your eyes back open, another sad sigh escaping your lips, as you stare back into the familiar visor. The smear of stars through hyperspace reflecting off of it. Hollow...empty. You gently hold the beskar up in your hands, and lean forward to press your forehead into it, taking a deep breath as you do so.
You gasp lightly when you hear the cockpit doors open, and pull away from the helmet in your hands as the new and mysterious mandalorian you just met enters and resumes his seat in his respective chair. You’re suddenly embarrassed, hoping he didn’t see that. Such a personal and intimate moment you don't want to be witnessed by anyone, let alone someone you just met... and quite frankly don’t like. You relax slightly after a moment of silence, and lean back into your seat, resting your aching body against the back of it, closing your eyes against the streaks of light coming through the window.
“Who did it belong to?” His modulated voice ringing out through the silence catches you off guard.
“Hmm?” you open your eyes and turn your head slightly against the back of your seat to face him. He hasn't moved his gaze from the cockpit window.
“Your armor. You said it belonged to someone important to you.” You suddenly get the feeling he definitely saw you earlier, when you had your forehead to the helmet in your lap, and you tense a bit. You’re just staring up at him cautiously, uncertain if you can trust him.
You’re quiet for too long before you let out the softest of sighs and take another deep breath in, “Maybe another time...” is all you can manage. You’re not sure why, but the idea of telling him seems impossible. It's not a secret by any means, you haven't hesitated to tell anyone before. Maybe it’s because you're not sure you can trust him, or simply the fact that you don’t like him. Maybe it’s because he's a mandalorian...
It's probably all of those reasons and more, all mixed up. It doesn't really matter, there's no reason for him to know. You will be parting ways with this mysterious mandalorian soon enough. Thankfully he doesn’t press the issue. In fact, he doesn’t say anything. The two of you ride your way through the silence of hyperspace without another word. Only the low rumbling of the engine beneath you filling the air.