The Armorer had told Din to return in a few hours, leaving the two women alone. Andora sat there on her knees, not complaining as she gazed around curiously at the forge. The models in the museum were fairly close, but rang hollow compared to the actual presence here.
"Are there truly no forges left on Mandalore?" It was the first hint of emotion from the other woman.
"No...the Empire smashed them all. The ones left on Concordia too." Andora looked at the Helms that were lined on the walls, the armor that had accompanied them being smelted.
"Do you know how to forge?" Her gloved hand gestured to the equipment before she rose, the crucible's work done.
"In theory. I study armors, from all time periods, from different classes and clans, and even from the progenitors. Weapons too, but due to the ban none of it can be put to use beyond restoration and categorization." Andora watched as the metal was poured. Smooth bars of clean beskar were collected from the mold, stamped with the three claw marks of the clan they came from.
"Is that why you flinch when you witness me reclaiming the beskar." There were stacks upon stacks of beskar at the side of the forge.
"Once they go in...I can't hear their songs anymore. It's like a second death."
"Va Kyr'am, a cin vhetin." (Not death, a fresh start.) The Armor set aside a few blocks, the rest joining the reserves. "They are freed from their armor to go to Manda. A new warriors song to be made from what they leave behind."
"Can you hear the songs too?" Andora looked up to read the other woman's body language.
"No, but I know of what you speak. It is part of the magic that the child has. And that you share. I suppose you cherish the songs more because you have no armor to sing your own." The black visor was staring at her, and while Andora could not feel the use of the force, she did not doubt this woman could read her soul. "What weapons have you used?"
"Spears, bows and arrows, crude knives. I learned my hunting from a tribe without metallurgy." Hopefully that tribe would be able to help her. If the Mando would at least take her half way, she could figure out the rest.
"Gar nalku'na ures suvarir. Meg cayatitr ganar gar iviye?" (You answer without understanding. What weapon have you used?) There was a bit of frustration at the woman's voice. "You live a half life, and so speak in half truths. It is why he doesn't trust you, and why I must repeat myself."
"Sarnu'a ni, gar cuyir staabi. Ni ganar iviye bes'bev asas pirusti." (Forgive me, you are right. I have used the flute as well.) Andora had not said sorry in a very long time, but this was warranted.
"A fitting choice, it looks harmless to the untrained eye." Like how Andora did not look Mandalorian.
"Instruments were the only things exempt from the ban. My brother played the masmer. It was a small act of rebellion. If you wanted a weapon, you played music." (drum)
"You will help him with the child. And in return I will make you whole." There was no question of if in the Armorer's voice.
"How? He has not explained what he wants from me." Andora said in confusion. Even while she had been told to explain about Tarre Vizsla and the force and his Jedi and Mandalorian legacy no actual discussion of why this Mando needed the information had happened.
"The child is a foundling, and is under his care. He is charged with returning the child to its people or to care for it until it comes of age. You know of the Jedi, and so will help him restore the child to its kind."
"But...I have to get the Helm away from Death Watch. I have a whole planet of people I am trying to help. And besides, if it is a foundling, then we are it's people now."
"It won't survive the training." The Armorer grabbed a bar of beskar, selecting a mold for it.
"Yes he could. When he's older. The child is strong in the force, maybe stronger than Vizsla was." The room was much hotter now as the forge began its work.
"He is the child's father, and he has his goal to safely take the child to its own kind. Two birds with one stone, he will help you keep this relic away from your foes, by you helping him find where this child's home is." Conversation was halted as the Armorer began work on something that had just been molded, pieces being attached with a soldering tool, working effectively and with practiced ease. Without the protective glass of a helmet or even safety goggles Andora had to look away. "When he comes back I will restock his weapons, and inform him of your agreement."
"What did you mean by making me whole?"
"At ani a mando, gar linibar a buy'ce bal a cayatitr." (To complete a mandalorian, you need a helmet and a weapon.) Andora felt her heart skip a beat, not letting herself hope. "A weapon now, a helmet should you help him find the child's people." The beskar shone in ways the simple plated silver of her childhood instrument had not. Taking it in hand the weight was comforting. She looked at the bladed edge, the point shimmering tantalizingly. Her hands gently pressed into position, wanting to test it's sound. When the Armorer stood there waiting Andora brought it to her lips, closing her eyes as she recalled her scales. It sounded much lower in tone to what she used before, but the quality of it made it richer in sound, the notes played well. Satisfied with her work the Armorer returned to her seat. "I trust you know fight of the mythosaur?"
"I haven't played it for a while." She took a few notes to practice her breathing before starting the song. The flute echoed in the domed space, filling the space where other musicians would have joined her. The song drifted in the space, the song stilted but serviceable. Instead of stopping she played through and just allowed the song to start over, working it till she felt better with the timing. Footsteps were heard once more, the music stopping as both women turned to await the Mando. Din walked in, the child asleep as it floated behind him.
"She will help you search and you will act as an escort for her. I will stock your weapons, and give you coordinates to where you may find me for repairs." If Din did not agree he kept quiet about it. He kneeled beside Andora as he was gifted with more weapons, his body firmly between her and the kid. After he was handed a small disk the Armorer turned her back to them. "The galaxy is large, and my forge holds no more answers for you." Making it clear she was not going to interact with the pair further, Din stood to leave, Andora wishing she had stretched a while ago as she stood, blood rushing to her feet, the pins and needles she had ignored demanding attention now. Taking deep breaths and clutching her new gift to her chest Andora forced her feet to move steadily up the stairs. Eventually the discomfort passed, her steps more natural and less deliberate, following him at a pace behind. He finally gave her back her bag, and she felt the lack of the helm in her bag.
"It's on the ship." He spoke as he turned towards the main city center, the shops all getting ready to open for the day. "You need better clothes. What you are wearing isn't going to work." She did not need more prompting than that. She had spent her night down in the enclave while he had handled his business, and the city was just getting ready after having been open late in the night. She bought a couple pairs of pants, tops, and undergarments. He did not care to watch her shopping, his eyes instead watching around him. He could hear her haggling poorly, but it seemed that most vendors agreed easily to her deals. When she met up with him at the edge of the city center, he looked at her, seeing her carrying a camping cot and sleeping gear along with the clothes in bags. It looked like at heavy load but she just smiled and marched alongside him back to the ship. "Isn't it heavy for you?"
"Your armor weighs 40 standard kilos, this is barely 14 kilos. I will be fine." He let her be, not stopping as she made a detour to a food vendor, coming back with something in a small storage bin. "Make that 17." She sounded excited about whatever food she had bought. When they reached the ship she saw the bounty was gone, and she guessed that was what he had done while he left her with the Armorer. He locked the door and put away the restocked weapons, and she noticed a flight pack among his equipment that had been under his cloak.
"What coordinates are you trying to get to?" He asked, pucks in his pocket.
"It's out in U-12. The Albanin sector."
"There's nothing out there, we'd be lucky to not run out of fuel. Only space ports near there are under Hutt control." His tone made it clear he did not like the idea of going out that way.
"I know. I have been there before. I have credits, I can pay for some of the fuel cost. Then help earn the rest."
"With a flute?" His gaze was on her gift, seeing the bladed edge of it. She put a cork to keep the edge covered.
"A battle flute, thank you very much." She was setting down her purchases, organizing and rolling her clothes in tight rolls so they would fit in her bag. And leaving her sleeping cot and bed roll against the wall where they took up less space. "Hutts love entertainment, and if I practice some songs I could get us passage on one of their ships so we could save on fuel costs through their territory." She left out one outfit, tight grey pants, a purple shirt and blue long turtleneck over top.
"Is that how you made it out there last time?"
"Yeah. Singing and music are things they just love because their species is not really able to do it themselves. Plus with your own ship we could just leave if they make it a hassle." She was a bit uneasy herself about getting back on a hutt ship, last time she had been a kid so they had mostly wanted from her was her music. When they had tried to take her as a slave she had hopped into an escape pod and landed on the planet that was now her destination.
"We have a couple stops we can make on the way to Hutt Space. They did expand some hyperspace routes out there. Maybe it's changed." He secured his jet pack and went up to the cockpit, giving her time to change and him some time away from her eyes, taking the kid with him again.
"The Empire gave up on the colonies out there. The planets were too hostile and too uninhabitable for humans where we are going." Well, that certainly made it more appealing of a destination. Din pulled out his pucks, trying to plot the most fuel efficient route to take. "Actually...they might have gotten a spaceport out of it. Never really could travel too far from the dens. Highly doubt we'll see much traffic there." He could hear her striping down and helping herself to the wash station. At least she was fast about it instead of wasting water. They were on their way towards his first hunt, an hour into it before she came up the ladder to sit behind him, her hair brushed and she was focusing on taming the mass of purple hair into braids she could keep out of her way. Instead of rambling on she sat there quietly, just watching the star streaks as they traveled.
"Manna." The kid was awake now, excited and with practiced ease was gifted his favorite playtoy, the small metal orb from Din's control console. The kid held it up like a prize, turning to their guest and babbling excitedly to her as he presented it like his own hunting trophy. She laughed softly and watched the kid, who seemed to start picking up on social things like talking and waiting for her eyes to be on him. It was all coos, babbles, and half formed sounds. Din couldn't see it as he focused on piloting but the kid was reaching for him while saying Manna.
"Nayc ad'ika, va 'Manna', Buir." (No little one, not "Manna", father.) The kid looked at her, then back at Din in the chair, reaching out again and trying to repeat the sounds. "Buir." She coached him softly, the kid not able to get the 'b' sound, but the 'uir' was simple enough.
"Don't...he has to go back to his kind,"
"Well he has to call you something, you are more to him than simply Mando, and I doubt he's going to get ver'gebuir." (Bodyguard). She stopped the encouragement, respecting the boundary but he could feel her simmering desire to subvert him. That put him more at ease. He was used to that feeling. Someone plotting against him was more comfortable than someone that was too compliant.
"He just says that to get his toy." Din dismissed, not wanting to fall further into the kids hold. As much as he saw girls and women fawn over the kid, he couldn't help but get soft over the big brown eyes that looked up at him like he knew everything.
"No, he says it when he is looking at you. He did it back on Mandallia in the forest when he was checking I didn't stab you. And he said it while pointing at you just now. He needs practice talking or he'll miss that milestone." She let the little guy grab a purple braid, tugging it like he was testing a rope.
"So you know how to raise kids now?" His hands moved to switches, adjusting calculations based on instinct.
"No, but my friends all have kids so I babysit a lot. And I run the tours on armor history for our school groups at the museum. Ten years of the same thing and you tend to remember stuff." She hissed in pain as the kid figured her hair was sturdy enough to climb, her hands quickly moving him to her lap so he would stop climbing and giving him a look that made him hit her with big begging yes. Relenting she let him keep playing with her hair, but stopping climbing attempts.
"He's 50."
"Standard years sure. But for all we know on his home planet he might be less than a local year. And even then, I am betting no one bothered trying to teach him how to speak during all the time he was a prisoner. He might already be behind his species normal development. The right thing to do is try and make sure he gets some language."
"Basic then." Din relented, feeling the start of the slide into a losing battle.
"No, both. He is your foundling, and for all we know he might come of age before we find any other family. He should know both. Being multilingual in the galaxy is a strength. Forbid you fall in battle, your token and knowing Mando'a might be his only hope of getting protection." She took the prized ball, warming it with her body heat before the kid demanded it back.
"What about you?"
"If you are dead, no way would I last longer." Andora didn't even laugh at the statement as a dark joke.
"Don't flatter."
"It's honest. I haven't been in a real fight in over a decade, all my practice is in survival skills and hunting, not warfare. You...you are battle hardened. I might scurry and avoid the worst of something, but if it's a problem where you are in danger then I am probably dead." The kid tugged her hair, and she quickly returned her attention to him, saving Din from having to answer. He allowed her to start teaching the kid simple words, the kid just making gurgles and ahs as responses. Maybe she had a point. The kid was making a bunch of sounds now with a partner, a contrast to the relative silence of the ship. The kid started wandering down the ladder, her moving to follow him.
"Did you store your flute?" He turned to look at her before she left.
"Yes but-"
"Let him be then." He turned back and he felt her hesitation as she sat back down. They were quiet for a while, she was feeling more and more uncomfortable. Why did he want to keep her here. His stifling arua was filling the space. She wanted to just go down and spend time with the kid. "I'm not an imperial, and this is not a battle." Her head snapped up to look at him in confusion. "It's not natural for you to be so...obedient." Andora blushed in embarrassment, realizing that he had been testing her. She had wanted to go play more with the kid and instead she had followed an implied order. "There are times where it's helpful. But you can be...more comfortable, like at the market. It will be a while traveling." He wasn't sure if he could trust her to not follow orders given to her by someone else, or if it was just him she deferred to so much.
"Okay Mando. I'll try." She couldn't promise she would change completely, but he had a point. She should not live her old life anymore. The Armorer was right too, she lived a half life. All the things that spoke to her spirit separated from her by panes of glass and clinical gloves. The education she gave to the children at the museum state approved to help conformity into a peaceful life instead of celebrating the heritage they had. Looking up at the panels covering the city and seeing only the flickering of the city lights reflected back at them during the night cycles. Here, with the Mando and his kid, she could wield a weapon, could see real stars, and not just honor the past but live in the present. She dropped down below, finding the kid and scooping him up to begin talking with the child without any topic in mind, just knowing his developing mind needed to be hearing words. She kept her voice low though, letting their pilot concentrate.
He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to fly uninterrupted since taking the kid with him. She kept the kid busy with games, talking, and eventually her flute. The song is slow and melancholy, but the notes simple and soft, like a lullaby. She played through the song a few times, or perhaps it was just repetitive. He hadn't really listened to music much since he started hunting. It always seemed to dim his perception, he had to focus on his environment so the music was always a background noise he set his scanners to tune out.
The flute stopped and now he was listening to her humming the same notes, her footsteps seemed to be rocking back and forth. Allowing the sound a bit more attention he could make out soft words, not humming.
"Gutir teh ji'marepu'armr, trattok'or bid katrakine. Emuurir laandur orikih latr, ku'amih o'r karjaosr. Verd'ika b'amr, olaror taabir yaim. Kotep verd b'amr, olaror taabir yaim." (Leaves from the vine, falling so slow. Like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam. Little soldier boy, come marching home. Brave soldier boy, comes marching home.) He was pretty sure she was putting the little guy down for a sleep cycle. The singing stopped and so did her pacing. The kid's pram closed and he heard her assemble the cot, the rustling of fabric and then silence. They would be out of hyperspace in soon. The sleep cycle he had should last him for a while. The stars started to take form again, no longer the passing streaks of light. He removed his helmet and ran his hands through his hair, letting his skin breathe for awhile. He performed some maintenance of the systems in his helmet, cleaning the interior before it could stink.
In an orbit around the planet he started to narrow down the possible locations his newest target, a debt skipper, was hiding. A gambler couldn't live somewhere remote. Their habits would drive them towards gambling places. Pulling up local information he started trying to narrow down where the best gambling was had on the planet. He hadn't played in a while, but he liked the odds. A race track was the big draw, but his target had no history of race betting. Seemed he liked to bet on fighting matches. Still setting his course for the larger town, he could track down a lead for sure. With a smooth motion he put the helmet back on, securing his identity before calling in for a landing.
The ship touched down in the landing hanger, and he walked past the two sleeping occupants. Rifle, blasters, cuffs, blades, bombs, grappler, flamethrower fuel, and comms link; he was ready to go. Setting the other comms link down on the cot near Andora he disembarked. He paid for the dock fee, locking the ship behind him. This shouldn't be long.
Andora groaned as the bright light filled the cargo hold of the ship, looking up to see his shiny (blindingly reflective) armor walking away. Once he relocked the ship, she rolled over to finish getting some sleep. Of course now that she was already half awake she couldn't exactly drown out the noises from outside. After tossing and turning to squeeze just a few more moments she relented, walking up and turning back on the lights below deck. She didn't remember turning them off. Standing from her cot she shivered, in just undergarments and socks. Redressing herself she checked on the kid, seeing the little guy still sleeping.
She drank some water and was deciding she should start keeping her end of the deal, using her data pad to search for lifeforms that match the kids physical traits. So far it was pointing her towards more amphibious species. Looking over at the kid she thought about the other option. Maybe she would have more luck looking through jedi registries. If the kid was 50 years old he might have been registered by the Jedi Order before the Empire was established. She sent an encoded message to a researcher she knew who had been researching Jedi once the Republic lifted the ban the Empire had implemented, the two of them had collaborated when looking at the mandalorian-jedi wars. The comms link crackled and she reached for it, pressing the button.
"Mando?"
"Kid still out?" She looked over, a bit surprised to find he still was. Maybe he was getting ready for a growth spurt.
"Yeah." She nibbled on a ration bar, not really that concerned, figuring he was just checking on the kid.
"Good, come out."
"Are you testing me again?" She said in confusion, but still fixing her braids into a bun and putting on her shoes.
"No. Target is somewhere I can't go. Need a female." That was not what she had expected, but she had promised to help earn the fuel they needed to get where they need to go. She opened the hatch, locking it back again. Hopefully the kid would be okay without supervision for a bit. She exits the space port, about to reach for him on the Comm link again when he walks up to her and gently grabs her arm, taking her down a dark side alley where no one could see. "Push your top up." Andora's eyes widen in shock, her hand lifting reflexively to slap him before she remembers that her hand versus his armor would end badly for her. "You need to take a weapon, I can fix the holster around you so it can hide under your top."
"Why didn't we do this at the ship?" She hissed at him, blushing as she pulled her top up a respectable height, keeping herself covered, his gloved hands putting the rough leather of the holster around her, pushing it higher up and she eeps, pulling back from him. "Hey! Watch it! Just tell me and I can finish it myself." She turned her back to him, pushing the stupid holster up closer to her breasts, wishing she had bound them down now. "Hand me the blaster." Din noticed some scarring but said nothing.
"Vibroblade actually." He still gives her the weapon, and she slid it in, feeling awkward as the handle is now under her breasts. "You just need to flush him out. I'll take him from there." She pulled down her shirt, trying to make sure it wasn't showing. He pulled up the puck, letting her get a look at the face of a green male Twi'lek. She looked over the details, trying to remember as much as she could about this guy so she would be helpful. Satisfied that she knew what she needed he led her once more through the crowded city, going from the nicer edge of the space port to a poorer one. As they got closer he pulled her aside, pointing out the building she was supposed to enter. A widowed woman's shelter, judging from the sign and from the looks of the older women having tea on the patio.
"Are you sure he's in there?" She was getting herself ready, wanting this to be smooth and easy.
"Tailed him from the betting office." His tone was firm and she figured that meant he was absolutely sure.
"Why didn't you just drag him out?" She smoothed her clothes again, fidgeting slightly.
"War widows in there. Last thing they need is a heavily armed masked man marching in and dragging someone off." Andora hadn't realized he would be so considerate of that kind of trauma, but she agreed now that he was right. She had to be the one to go get the guy. "Good luck." He pushed her out to prompt her to move and she decided to just get this done as soon as possible. If the man was hiding in there, she needed to keep these ladies safe from him, or from other bounty hunters that might do exactly what Mando hadn't wanted to. The older women on the patio looked her over, a mix of species who banded together. Andora smiled as brightly as she could, coming over to the Togruta woman who was wearing a red feathered hat, sitting in the center of the group. She seemed like the leader here.
"Hello ladies...so sorry to bother you, I was looking for an associate of mine. Has anyone come in recently?" The women all appraised her, murmuring among themselves.
"I assume you want the same one that Mandalorian was asking about." Her voice was firm and she leveled a firm stare at Andora before looking past her to where the Mando was waiting. Andora nodded her head, not seeing the benefit of lying to the woman. "Then I tell you the same as I told him before. No."
"Ma'am, the person has a bounty on them. You and the others here won't be safe from other hunters. Mando just wants to respect you by having me come collect the person. I don't want to hurt him." She was using her tour guide voice, trying to be respectful despite her rising temper.
"We know what it's like to not be safe girl. The answer is no." Andora really did not want to do this but if she was going to be difficult then so be it. Ignoring the women she walked inside, the older women all gasping that she had just blatantly passed by them. She walked into the main area, scanning the room, spotting a group Twi'lek women, but she could feel discomfort from that side of the room. She walked over there, taking deep breaths as she got ready for what she needed to do.
"Dob'fuji. Please come outside." The Twi'lek women flinched, moving rank to be tighter together, shielding the hiding male. "Look, I don't know what the bounty is for, and really it's not my business. I'm doing this as a favor. He doesn't want to retraumatize war widows by having to drag you out, but he's probably not the only one with your puck." The room went deathly quiet, the women not budging. "Just look at me please, Face to face." She let some of her manipulation slide into her tone, a hand coming from between the long skirts and Andora rolled her eyes as she kneeled down to look into a scared face.
"Please...I'll pay your guy double to leave me here." He was holding out some credits, but she didn't move to take them, instead focusing her breathing as she looked into the male's eyes.
"Mandalorians can't do that. He said he'd bring you in. He is going to keep his word." The man slowly lowered his hand, tears in his eyes. "We all pay for our choices, right or wrong. Right now you are hiding to avoid whatever it is. If you have any sort of honor, come with me now, and don't put these women in further danger. The next person might have no qualms about shooting their way in or out of here. Do you want that for them?" There was a tense silence, the women from outside surrounding her now. The Togruta woman pulling her up and pointing at the doorway. Andora had put as much manipulation into her voice as she could without making it obvious. As Andora took a few steps there was hushed tones and pleas from the Twi'lek women in their own language before soft sniffling. The young Twi'lek male was walking calmly beside her, trying to wipe his eyes to look braver than he felt. Andora took his hand comfortingly, trying to help calm him as they left the building, Twi'lek women wailing softly in mourning as they left. "You did the right thing." Andora said.
"Their going to kill me...I don't have enough to pay off my debt." The man sniffled, and she controlled her reaction.
"Well...maybe you should offer to work off the debt then. The honorable way." She was trying to be helpful, seeing Mando waiting for her with cuffs out for the man. She felt it snap, her small measure of control over him lost, and he was panicking now as he realized he was facing his own retribution. She didn't need to hear the gasps of shock from behind her or the clank of the cuffs falling as Mando pulled his blaster. She had felt the murderous intent when her control of him snapped, her hand slipping up under her shirt and freeing the vibroblade from the holster. It was scary how easy it was to slip back into the kill or be killed mentality. Before she really processed what happened she had the blade in the Twi'lek's stomach. His own knife dropping limp to the ground as he clutched at the wound. She stepped away, blood splattering on the ground as she had pulled the blade out with the motion. The women were screaming, and she really wished she had put more effort into controlling him so they would have at least turned the corner before this happened. With a sigh Andora wiped the blade on the man's clothes to keep it free of blood and put it back in the holster, kicking his own knife aside as Mando rushed up.
"It's half if he dies." Came a slightly annoyed tone from Din's modulated voice, but she wasn't sorry. That blade would have been in her back and she would be the one bleeding out instead.
"Well, he did offer to pay you if you left him here. What do you need for proof of death?" Pragmatism at its finest.
"He couldn't pay to avoid me coming." Oh, fair point. She walked back over to the screaming women, the Togruta woman just glaring at her.
"Do you have a medical droid, if we hurry a bacta spray should hold him." It felt like longer than it really was before the droid was marching outside towards the Twi'lek, a lot of blood coating the ground. Din had cuffed the dying man, the droid doing its job for the most part.
"I told you to flush him out." Din said to Andora as she stood next to him. "Comfortable, not reckless."
"He was literally hiding under their skirts." She sighed, the droid finishing its work, keeping the bounty alive. Andora pulled the Twi'leks credits out and passed them to the droid for the shelter. "I shouldn't have walked next to him. You are right about that. I'll be more careful. Thank you for aiming at him when he did turn coward."
"Would it kill you to say sorry." Din asked, picking up the Twi'leks cuffs and getting ready to toss him over his shoulder to drag back to the ship. Andora picked up the legs, helping him carry the weight between them so he wasn't in a position where the body blocked his line of sight. They carried the man back in silence, most people staying out of Din's way. Every so often security droids would ask, but when he gave them his guild code they let them pass. The man did not put up resistance going in the carbonite. Blood loss would do that to a person. The kid was up now, seeing the pair of them and squeaking happily as he made grabbing hands at Din, the 'uir' sound coming from his mouth. As annoyed as Din was, that made him put aside his feelings and come grab the kid, letting the little guy climb up his armor plating. She closed the doors, taking her time now to fold up her cot and sat on the small bench,seemingly deep in thought. Ignoring her he went up to the cockpit, starting the takeoff before he had to pay for more time.
Sitting in the cockpit now Din had the kid in his lap, listening to the amount of new sounds the kid was making. He started naming each of the switches and buttons he touched, not concerned with explaining them now. The kid was listening, watching, and hopefully learning. After a couple hours, on the way to the next bounty he heard her slowly coming the ladder, pausing before poking her head up into the cockpit.
"Mando, can I come up?"
"It's fine." He called out, the kid playing once more with the metal ball, seeming to roll it between his hands. She came up, taking her seat behind him.
"I spent four years with Barabels, they detest apologies. Barabels viewed it as a way to try and avoid taking responsibility for one's actions. So yes, I grew up learning that apologies would kill me." She chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. "I picked it up from them. Most of the time if someone was sorry they wouldn't do it. Like that guy, he wasn't sorry about running on his debt, he wasn't sorry about putting those people in danger, or that he was going to stab me and run for it. He was sorry for himself that his actions caught up with him."
"How did you live with Barabels? Their rare for even out here." He couldn't deny her logic. He was rarely sorry for things he did. When he had done something he was actually sorry for, it has cost him everything.
"That's where I am going." She was looking at her hands, glad blood had not gotten on her clothes. "That's what's out in the Albanin system. The first rocky planet is called Barab 1. It's their homework."
"You want to go to the Barabel homeworld?" He turned to look at her, staring at her through his visor, trying to convey the disbelief he was feeling.
"Yeah, my friend, if she's still in charge of her clan will take the relic and hide it somewhere safe. Their culture venerates Jedi, and welcomed me as a warrior in training. Once I explain to her she and her clan will make sure its safe."
"Do they know that Manadlorians hunted and killed Jedi?" This sounded like a terrible idea. Bad enough he had to find these enemy space wizards, now he had to go to a planet full of warriors that love those space wizards while being their enemy.
"Her clan understood that I was not a Jedi killer and they will be happy to help." She was placing too many variables out of his control.
"What about the kid and me?"
"They won't hurt him, you may have to prove yourself in a hunt, but being my escort and being a Jedi baby's guardian will help a lot. Just don't say you're sorry, and address the females first. They are a matriarchal clan system since only females know which offspring are their own."
"Did you prove yourself?"
"After three years of training, yeah. She and I hunted and killed a durgolosk together. I'll definitely need to start training again before we get there. It wouldn't be good for me to let you hunt it alone." She sounded like she had made up her mind, assuming he was just going to go along with this.
"I can hunt alone." It would take weeks for her to be back in condition to actually fight.
"That's not the point. I am asking them to trust you, I have to show them I trust you too. If I can't hunt with you, they won't either. If you don't hunt with me you stay in the den. I highly doubt you want to stay in the den with them if I went and hunted anyway. Some females may be waiting on eggs to hatch." He suppressed a shudder. He had heard the stories. Females of the species were supposed to be worse.
"Fine." She would need to train anyway. Can't have her losing control like earlier and making mistakes. It might cost more than credits next time. "How did you get there?"
"Escape pod from the Hutt Junker I was on. It was the closest planet. I didn't pick it, the pods systems did. But I like to think it was the Force, trying to direct me where I needed to go." And she wanted to get back on a Hutt ship. Was she just trying to relieve this old experience?
"Don't they eat human?" It was the reason most people avoided them. They were voracious eaters, and had been known to eat other sentient beings if the other wasn't careful to keep enough food on board.
"I was just twelve. Zalle of Reka Clan found me and took me to her den. They were going to eat me, but when I started fighting back for my life...She laughed, called me funny. They let me live, learned to hunt, to fight, and kill from them. It was after we killed the durgolosk she became clan leader and officially declared me not food but a war sister. I branded it as my sigil that night with her help too." Her hand moved fondly to the side of her thigh, and he was curious. What did this beast look like?
"So is this when you were making bone armor?" He hadn't forgotten that gruesome detail.
"When the Empire started letting a company send trophy hunters to the planet it wasn't a big deal at first. They said if you failed the hunt and got killed it was your own fault. But...then…" He could hear the crack in her voice, a painful memory. "Clan Reka had a friendly rivalry with another clan in the area. They worked together so we could get food before the monsoons. At night, hunting and battle practices, things like that. It was nice." She looked at her hands, thinking about how to phrase the next part. "The trophy company's scouting droids found their den...and a day soon after...the hunters went and slaughtered them. It's a red sun planet, so they were trapped in the caves, and the human trophy hunters were using remote droids, not even hunting them in person." The kid seemed to sense her sadness, coming over and demanding to be in her lap and receive attention. "Like I said, the Barabels were good sports about the poaching, seeing it as just another challenge, and they were even willing to forgive the slaughter until we found that they smashed every last egg. That was too much. The clans declared war on the offworlders. When we found another group of hunters...we slaughtered them. Barabels eat a lot of meat, and after the battle, there wasn't time to hunt. So...They ate."
"Imperials got involved after that?" Din could understand the hostile response, it was a story that repeated many times. Imperials allowed killing of innocents and it rallied resistance.
"Barabels believe in taking trophies of kills back to the den...and well...I needed better armor, and to be more intimidating to my enemies. Plus days are 60 standard hours so I had a crap ton of free time." That was unsettling. Din was really not looking forward to going to this planet.
"Did you eat people?" Din had to know for his own sense of security.
"Kill them, yes. Make really crappy art projects with their corpses, yes. Eat them. No. The planet does have fruits and veggies, and I don't need to eat 30 kilos of meat every day like Barabels do. But I understand that I didn't look good, being captured covered in bones, blood, and screaming in the native language. And them seeing half eaten trooper bodies everywhere. They thought I ate them. It probably helped though because being seen as a cannibal made troopers less liking to try anything inappropriate with a female prisoner." She was helping the kid roll the ball again, figuring the child was trying to make it levitate again. He let the conversation drop after that, mulling over what he had just learned about her, and reanalyzing the stabbing from earlier. She eventually took the kid down back down, starting up her vocabulary practice with him.
"Breaking News. We just have confirmed reports that Restorationist Goz Kahl was assassinated at negotiations with Senator Ordot, who was also grazed by blaster fire. Death Watch has claimed responsibility for the attack, and for the attack on the Museum. It has been confirmed by audio recordings released by the Senator's office that Andora Vizsla was kidnapped by a member of Death Watch after being forced to steal the relic. The Senator's office is asking that anyone that sees her please report it so they can rescue her and return her and the relic to safety here on Mandalore." The news droid was saying as footage of the days events scrolled by to the side, market exchange numbers ticking by below.
"Restorationist are currently holding a vigil for their fallen member, with enhanced security to protect them from further attacks by the extremist group. Pacifists have been encouraged to join in the vigil, as a sign of solidarity for all Mandalorians to mourn a man who served for years with grace, dignity, and honor as the head of security for the Capital city of Sundari." The holonet broadcast was shut off, Ordot watching from his bed, recovering from the blaster shot. He waved his aides out of the room, resting for a bit he considered his plan.
Andora had correctly guessed that Kahl was part of Death Watch, which had not been part of the plan. His enforcer had gone and cleaned up the man's home, making him out to be the model citizen everyone was mourning now. He had also stopped the recording they had been making of Andora, needing her to be captured alive. Her being part of Death Watch meant that deadly force could be used, and then he would lose the location to the Vizsla beskar mines. Besides, a rescue mission would win over more supporters. She trusted him still, if he could get the Helm from her willingly, it would be an endorsement for when he went public with the claim of Mand'alor. Another message was coming through on his private communication channel, this one highly encrypted. He accepted it, seeing the visage of a man that still sent chills down his spine.
"Moff Gideon." Ordot said, lowering his head as best as he could in his injured state.
"Seems you had a rough day. I do hope that the other Vizsla relic is recovered soon. I know how important the pair of relics are for a proper succession. If you want the title Mand'alor I need you to fulfill on the beskar you said you could supply for armoring my troops." The words were dripping in a thinly veiled threat.
"I appreciate your care of the darksaber while we await the rescue of the relic and the girl. Once we have the Vizsla girl, I will be able to begin the excavation of beskar."
"Good, I do not appreciate how difficult your people are being. The clan that used to be on Nevarro had already caused me much trouble. It seems a shame to drive all of your kind to extinction when you can be such useful imperial soldiers." Ordot bit his tongue, needing to keep the Moff on good terms.
Chapter end