Before

Galidraan, 12 years before the start of the Clone Wars.

"How bad?"

Annaya looked up from her work to see Jango Fett looming over her, his armor scorched and scarred from the battle. "Only two are seriously injured," the medic replied. "Borgan and Trell. I'll fly them back to the nearest med center as soon as possible. Are we cleared to leave?"

"As soon as I hear back from the periphery guards."

She nodded and stood, her eyes moving quickly over her resting patients. Annaya also wore armor, and she could handle her blaster as well as any of the Mandalorians under Fett's command, but her training as a battlefield medic meant that her job was not yet complete. "Come with me, Jango."

The Manda'lor followed her deeper into the small transport, out of the cargo bay and into a small storage room. She shut the door behind him. Annaya was a tall woman, but in such close proximity she had tilt her head back slightly to look up into the visor of his helmet. "How badly are you hurt?"

"It's nothing a bacta patch or two won't fix," Jango quickly removed his helmet and armored chest plate, wincing slightly as he pulled the padded bodysuit away from the blaster burns on his neck and shoulder. "How do you always know?"

"If you weren't injured, you would be off collecting our money." She went through the usual routine of shining a light into his pupils and checking his pulse. "The only time I see your handsome face is when you've been hit and don't want anyone else to know."

Their eyes met briefly, and Jango returned her wry smile. "It was a lucky ricochet. No reason to start any rumors."

"Oh, no, that would be bad. People might start thinking you're human." She put her hands over his and continued to open the bodysuit down the front. "Sit down on that crate, they don't look bad."

"I told you," he grunted. "You don't need to worry about your share, I'll have it for you when we regroup. Borgan and Trell's, too."

"I know." Annaya began to clean the burns with antiseptic, watching as he shifted restlessly. "I wouldn't think you were less of man if you wanted a shot for the pain."

"Don't need it. I'm still feeling the rush from the fight." His fingers drummed against his armored thigh. "It's good, keeps me focused. I need to stay focused when I go see the Governor."

"You think he'll try to renegotiate?" She looked at him questioningly, but he shook his head.

"There's an additional piece of information I want from him." Jango regarded her soberly for a few seconds before he spoke again. "About the Death Watch."

Annaya was a professional. Her fingers never faltered as she applied a bacta patch to his neck, but emotion made her voice taunt. "Vizsla?"

"Yes."

She turned her head to the side and spit on the floor. Like many of the Mandalorians, she'd lost family and friends in the fight against the Death Watch. "It will be a good day when he's dead." She smoothed her fingers over the last bacta patch and then looked him in the eyes. "I want to be there."

"I want us all to be there."

It was not a promise, but it was as good as Jango Fett could give. Annaya nodded grimly in acknowledgment and tugged the collar of his suit carefully up to cover the bandages. "There." She was standing very close to him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. After a moment's hesitation, the Manda'lor put his hands at her waist, a question in his eyes that neither of them felt the need to vocalize.

Annaya leaned in and pressed her lips to his, passionately and insistently. It didn't matter that they'd never done this before, and probably never would again. This wasn't about love, this was about opportunity. This was about fighting the creeping chill as the heat of combat faded, and celebrating survival with sexual release. Jango's gloved fingers twined roughly in her short hair, hungrily taking her mouth as their armor noisily collided. They parted just long enough to remove a few heavy and inconvenient pieces of gear, and to switch places.

Now the medic was sitting on the edge of the crate, her legs wrapped possessively around her leader while he pulled off his gloves. His hands roughly explored her body as they kissed again, and then Annaya impatiently pushed him back so she could open her bodysuit and feel his skin against hers. "Mesh'la," he growled appreciatively, running his thumbs over her exposed nipples and squeezing the fullness of her breasts.

She pulled his head down for kiss, muffling his groan against her lips as she found his erection. Her legs tightened around his as their hips moved together and then Jango grasped her chin, momentarily forcing her to look up at him. "Annaya...can I?"

"Yes," she confirmed, squirming against him eagerly. "But only if you pull out before you come. I don't want a baby right now."

"Right. Same here."

All talking rapidly devolved into quiet little moans and groans of pleasure. They didn't know each other well enough to stray from the basics, but the end was still satisfying. As promised, Jango pulled out, his seed spilling on her thigh and they came together for one last distracted kiss before parting.

The Manda'lor replaced his clothing and armor and waited politely for Annaya to clean up and do the same before they left the storage room. "I'll check in with the perimeter," he said. "But you should be good to go."

She nodded briskly and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'll see you at the rendezvous point."

"Yes. Have a safe journey." He turned and left the transport, and Annaya went back to work preparing her patients for travel. By the time she left for the med center, Jango had already departed to collect their payment from the Governor of Galidraan, unaware that they were about to ambushed by the Jedi. Annaya and the two wounded men would be the only one of Jango Fett's Mandalorians to escape death or capture.

After

Mandalore, two years later.

"Does Annaya Renn live here?"

The boy was maybe seven or eight, and regarded Jango Fett with wariness, reaching out to take the hand of a curly haired toddler sitting with him on the steps. "Do you need a doctor?"

"I do."

The boy turned his head slightly towards the house. "Mom!"

A window opened, and Jango removed his helmet, knowing his old medic wouldn't recognize the armor he wore these days. Annaya leaned out, her sleeves rolled up above the elbow. "What is it, Fenn?" Then she spotted Jango and she froze for a second in shock before a rueful smile touched her lips. "So the rumors are true. Welcome back, Jango."

"Thank you. Could I have a moment of your time?"

"Of course. Fenn, take your sister to the pond, please." She withdrew into the house and Fenn gave Jango one last cautious frown. The interior of Annaya's house was warm and bright. She met him at the front door and took him to an adjacent room that clearly served as her office. "What can I do for you?"

"I need some medical advice."

She folded her hands and waited, as calm and alert as always. Jango ran his thumb over the sleek surface of his helmet, choosing his words carefully before he spoke. "How much do you know about my...disappearance?"

"I know you were ambushed by the Jedi and turned over to the Governor. Some of us got a group together to raid his complex, but the intelligence was that you were gone. Most of us thought you were dead."

He nodded. "The Governor didn't want to keep me around. He sold me to slavers."

Annaya flinched before she could hide her reaction. "Osik, Jango, if we had known..."

"I know. It's in the past now." His tone held an edge that told her to drop it. "I was on a spice transport until I escaped. Labor slaves are expendable, so they had all of the male slaves sterilized. I want to know if it can be reversed."

Her eyes dropped to the floor, a rare crack in her usually placid demeanor. "How was it done?"

"With an injection. Phedorizine-5, I think."

"I'll run an analysis," she said, moving to a shelf and gathering a needle and a few sample containers. "I'll need blood, and of course, semen." Annaya paused and regarded him gravely. "Do you want children now, Jango?"

"Don't need a whole houseful, but one would be nice." He shifted. "I never thought I would live long enough to even consider it, but I've made it this far..." he jerked his head towards the front door. "You have children now. What changed your mind?"

"I met my husband." She prepared the needle with practiced ease. "Roll up your sleeve, please."

Jango removed his gloves and wrist guards. "Is the boy his?"

"No. His parents were killed about a year ago, they were our neighbors." Annaya wrapped a tourniquet around his arm and probed lightly for a vein. "Is it true that you killed Vizsla?"

"Yes."

She filled two small vials with blood and then pressed a square of gauze to his arm. Her eyes flickered up to his before she removed the needle. "We're fortunate to have our Manda'lor back."

Now it was his turn to drop his gaze, though he quickly busied himself rolling his sleeve back down. "I have some other work lined up, probably keep me busy for a while."

"I see." Annaya marked the vials quickly and handed him a small glass container. "This is for a semen sample. You can bring it back tomorrow, if you prefer."

Jango removed the armor protecting his groin without hesitation. "Might as well get it done."

She didn't say a word, but her eyebrows arched upward.

"Nothing you haven't seen," he said as a matter-of-fact. "Leave the room if it makes you uncomfortable."

After a moment Annaya crossed over to the door and locked it. Jango watched passively as she drew close and put her hand over his. "You're still the Manda'lor, whether you feel like it or not." She wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking it lightly. "Just because you were a slave doesn't mean you can't still be a leader."

His jaw tightened, but instead of pulling away he let himself be drawn into the determined rhythm of her hand. His own hands gripped the edge of the counter behind him as her fingers tightened. "Give me the jar," she said softly, and he complied. His eyes fell shut and he listened to her breathing, fast and ragged, just like his. It reminded him of better days. She reminded him of better days.

His body jerked when he came, but he didn't make a sound. Annaya was ready with the container and he opened his eyes and smiled sardonically at the sight of her briskly wiping off the rim and putting the lid back in place. She handed him a wet wipe, and he cleaned himself off quickly while she marked the container and set it next to the blood samples. "I should have the results tomorrow." She hesitated slightly before continuing. "The best we can hope for is that the slaver botched the procedure. It's not common, but it happens."

"And if he didn't?"

"Then you should probably see a specialist in the core to see if anything can be done. My knowledge of the subject is very limited." She unlocked the door as she spoke, and Jango knew that was his cue to leave. "Family is more than blood," she said firmly. "If you can't have children of your own, you'll adopt. Just like Jaster Mereel adopted you and we adopted Fenn. It's part of who we are as Mandalorians."

He nodded shortly in response, pausing in the doorway. "Thank you, Annaya."

"I meant what I said earlier," she replied, looking him in the eyes. "Welcome back."

After a moment, Jango Fett put on his helmet and left. Annaya's adopted son and her daughter were returning to the house, the little girl hopping awkwardly while Fenn held her hands and lifted her by her arms. As soon as her feet touched the ground she begged to be swung again. Jango glanced once more back toward the house, but the windows were empty and the door was shut. He walked away.