Chocolate pudding
Mira is marching through the Ebon Hawk, looking for the exile. There is the plan for the next day to be talked about.
But the exile isn't in the communication room.
Instead, there is a bowl of chocolate pudding, sitting on the counter. Mira stands. She looks. She turns around to leave, then turns around again and looks at the pudding again. It's chocolate pudding. Real chocolate pudding. She hasn't had that since…
Mira takes a a spoon and sits down in front of the pudding and…
…and suddenly she is 5 years old again, sitting at the table in her parents kitchen, still in her nightclothes. Her parents and her brother Tarr are standing around the table, smiling at her. It is her birthday. On the table is the usual birthday stuff, her birthday lights, a couple of presents from her parents, and a big bowl of chocolate pudding.
Chocolate pudding for breakfast! That is something you only get on your birthday. So of course Mira can't eat it yet. She looks at the pudding with relish, takes in its cool, soft looking surface. Smooth, dark chocolate. She bents down her head to smell it. Almost she can feel it in her mouth, taste its sweetness.
'If you don't start eating now, Mira' her brother says. 'I believe I'll be forced to take it!'
'No!' Mira gasps, and Tarr chuckles and slides the bowl back over the table to her.
So reluctantly she takes her spoon, and is about to dab it at the pudding…
Carefully Mira dunks her spoon into the pudding, and puts it into her mouth. The pudding is just as rich and delicious as she had thought. She closes her eyes, a soft groan of delight escapes her lips. She dunks the spoon into the pudding another time.
But then the world starts shaking. There is screams of fear and death and glass bursting all around them, and voices that shout 'The Mandalorians! The Mandalorians!'
Things are grabbed in a hurry, hands, her mothers hands, clasp Mira's arms and then they are running, everybody is running, but where to? Where can they go? Nobody knows, but they all keep on running. Suddenly there is fire, hot flames burning their skin, and explosions and blaster-shots everywhere.
Mira takes another spoonful, and another. She doesn't taste the pudding anymore, just gulps down bite after bite. Sometime after the first bites, she starts to cry.
Moments, fractions, is what is left of the day, imprinted forever on Mira's eyes.
Tarr's face out of the middle of a crowd, looking for them, screaming for them. He is dragged away. The lifeless body of her father lying on the ground, not moving when people step over him. Why, Mira asks. Her mother, grey-faced. She has no answers. Her hands, slowly loosing the grip around Mira's shoulders.
Oh, Mum, Dad, Tarr! Was it only this morning they were all together? It feels like there are years lying between then and now.
As she digs into the pudding, hot tears are streaming over her face, but she cant stop now. She gulps down the pudding between sobs, sobs that come from deep down in her breast, it hurts, but she won't stop. Not now.
The explosions stopped some time ago, Mira can't say when. She is huddled into a corner of the freighter, it is cold, she is shivering. There will be no blankets. They are slaves now.
Everybody here lost their family today. Some of the other children are crying. But Mira thinks that is stupid. They are dead. They won't come back. It is pointless to cry for them. Or to think about them. It would just hurt even more.
And she doesn't think about them. All the years and years until now, she doesn't think about them, not once.
But somewhere, in a place deep down inside her, she is still longing, longing for that bowl of chocolate pudding, left untouched in the kitchen that morning. It is still there, waiting for her, there, in a happier time.
The bowl is empty, her sobs faded, her tears dried up. Mira drops her spoon, but continues to sit at the table, motionless, staring into the empty bowl. Suddenly, she starts to giggle, it is so ridiculous. What was she thinking? That she would be able to think about them without hurting? That it would bring them back? Ridiculous. It is just chocolate pudding! There really is nothing to it. It is just milk and chocolate powder and sugar and some other stuff mixed together. It works no magic.
Ridiculous.
Suddenly she hears a noise and turns around. As she sees who it is, she almost keels over in embarrassment. Mandalore is standing in the doorframe. He remains silent, taking in the empty bowl in her hands, her chocolate-smeared mouth…
Mira always was a fast talker, but right now, in this moment, she can't say anything. So she just sits there in silence, hoping he won't say anything either. And he doesn't. After a couple of seconds that seem to last more than half an eternity, he simply turns around and leaves.
And Mira just stays in the kitchen, laughing again, first out of embarrassment, and then just out of utter delight over the awkwardness of the situation. She laughs, and laughs, because there are no tears left to cry.
Tarr, his proud face when he finally taught her just the basic rules of Pazaak. Father, the smell of his neck, giving her piggy-back rides in the yard. And Mother. Her hands, her strong, kind hands around Mira's own, her soft, hoarse voice lulling her to sleep.
Yes, it hurts to think about them. But they mustn't be forgotten. They don't deserve that.
At the crew meet this evening, the Exile, visibly annoyed, interrogates everybody about Atton's lost bowl of pudding. Mira shrinks back in her seat, not daring to look at Mandalore, but when asked, he just shakes his head. No, he hasn't seen it. Neither has the rest of the crew. May he suggest they talk about more important matters than imaginary chocolate puddings? Atton though stubbornly insists that it was there, and somebody took it, but he is silenced by a strict glance from the exile.
Mira is astonished. Surprised she turns to the Mandalorian, but almost can't believe what she sees. Later she will deny it, thinking she must have seen it wrong through his helmet, but right now, in this second, she could swear he is winking at her.