The visions came as Noha slept, as they normally did.

When she slept, it was a mish-mash of things, little glimpses of the possibilities that could unfold in the right scenario. Sometimes she could make sense of it, and sometimes she could not. It was almost like watching a holo-vid, except with multiple versions and each with a different ending.

The reality was that the majority of what she saw when the dreams came was based entirely upon two factors: chance and choice. And she had come to understand that what was shown to her was not anything solid, but instead many avenues of realities.

It was only once the situation played out that she could take a guess at which reality was the correct one, and even then, there were many times she had still been wrong. There were also times that little details changed along the way. There were also times she had been right. It just depended. On what, though, she wasn't sure.

The future was not nearly as solid as most thought it was. It was jumbled, confusing. Destiny was a joke. How could anything like destiny be real when it was all so tangled and varied and constantly changing?

Such ideas about destiny or predestination made little sense to Noha. Then again, there were a lot of things that did not make sense to Noha – a great many things, in fact.

If there was one thing she had learned about the future, it was that it was never set in stone, contrary to what many seemed to believe. There were factors, probabilities, and decisions that led to what people experienced – and it was all intertwined so intricately that it was often hard to understand or ignore, like the dreams and premonitions that came to her.

No, they could not be ignored, no matter how she might have tried. They weighed on her, eating away at her sanity at times.

Was she still sane? Had she ever been?

Perhaps...or perhaps not.

How did one even begin to define or encapsulate sanity? Was it a state of mind? Something one obtained or lost as life wore on? Or maybe it was something that some were born with while others were not?

Noha had no idea, and frankly, she did not think it particularly mattered.

Still, there were times that she wished the subtle hints of premonitions and strange, dream-like visions would leave her, so she could live some semblance of a normal life. But that was only wishful thinking, and it would do her no good to wish for a reality that would never arrive.

She'd never had a word for the premonitions, or the strange energy that seemed to buzz in her veins.

Noha only knew that the Little One also had the same strange energy or life-force within him, just like her. Only, it seemed he was much more in-tuned to it than she was. He could do much more with it than she could, and it seemed to bend to his will when it would not bend as easily to hers.

She had tried of course, she had been forced to try when the experiments had started, though there was precious little she knew about that odd energy inside of her.

But she could feel it, and it revealed itself to her in this strange way. That was why she had been taken at such a young age by the Empire, and she suspected it was why they wanted the Little One too.

Whatever that strange essence was that swirled within her, connecting her to something greater than even the galaxy itself, it was undoubtedly valuable. Or perhaps she was the one who was valuable because she was connected to it. She didn't really know. There was a lot she didn't know. Too much, really.

Noha doubted she had been more than fifteen years of age when they had taken her.

The Empire had been at the height of its power at that time, and she had not been the only one rounded up and delivered to the laboratories, nor had she been the first to arrive.

There had been others like her, strange children with strange abilities and a strange energy inside them all, though she had little idea what had become of them. Perhaps the Little One had been there too. She couldn't really be sure.

Time had become meaningless after she was brought there, and she had spent years in that testing facility hidden away in a space station with the others.

They'd been given numbers, their identities erased. 'Noha' was only a name she had created for herself after the collapse of the Empire. She could not remember anything else, or of any life she might have led beforehand. They had taken that from her too.

Experiment N-0H4 – that had been her identification code. She'd only replaced the '0' and the '4' with letters to give herself a name.

N-0H4 had become Noha. It was the best she could do, but she liked it because it was hers and hers alone. She liked it because it could not be taken from her, and that was something she cherished.

Her memories, her name, her heritage, her identity, her youth – they had taken it all. They'd stolen years of her life from her, and it had all passed in a foggy haze she often had trouble remembering. Now her mind was a mess, and she couldn't remember a time when it had been neater or more organised. Maybe they had taken that as well.

The Rebels had been no different, she suspected - not that she had waited around long enough to find out. She had been scared that they might try to take from her too. There had been too much taken already, and she had not wanted to risk it.

When the Rebels had come to liberate them when the war was finally won, Noha wasted no time in slipping away, blending into the background on one of their bases she'd been delivered to until an opportunity presented itself. She hadn't trusted the Rebels any more than she had trusted the Empire - and so she had run, stowing away on a cargo freighter bound for the Hosnian system.

She had enjoyed her last four years of relative freedom following the fall of the Empire, while the new Republic had been stretched too thin to come looking for her. She'd experienced what it was like to live, and travelled as she pleased – all whilst hiding under many different identities and making sure not to whisper a word of the visions that came as she slept.

And the visions came each night, as they always did, but she was grateful for them. Some called her lucky, but she knew otherwise. Those dreams helped her make her decisions, and it was what had helped her evade what remained of empirical influence over the years that followed its collapse.

Until now.

But if everything went according to the preferred reality she had seen, neither Noha or her little green companion would become experiments again. Their fates lay now in the hands of The Mandalorian.

She had seen another reality, however, one that she tried not to think about.

In that reality, The Mandalorian took his reward and never looked back, abandoning them to a cruel fate.

This was why she kept insisting that he would save them, even if hearing it repeated annoyed him. Perhaps it was naïve or wishful thinking, but she hoped that if she could instil this idea in his head that he had the capability to save them, then her preferred reality would come to pass.

He would either save them, or damn them. She'd seen it.

But Noha was an optimist, so she chose to believe the reality in which he saved them. She was an optimist, because there was just too much at stake not to be.

It was then that she startled awake, blinking rapidly as she attempted to clear her mind of the many fragments of realities she had seen whilst she slept. It was often that Noha had trouble upon waking, still confused and wondering if she was truly awake or if she was still seeing what that strange swirling energy in her body saw fit to show her.

No, she was awake. She had simply fallen asleep on their night-time trek across the desert to retrieve stolen ship parts. Kuiil, a friendly Ugnaught the Mandalorian was acquainted with, led the way.

Noha liked Kuiil. He was friendly and kind, with a type of genuine generosity that she had rarely seen before. Most beings only helped others if it benefitted them, but not Kuiil. He was gentle and careful with her and the Little One, and had even provided Noha with a quilt for their nighttime trek. It occurred to her then that she must have fallen asleep during their traveling.

She had slept in the cart being pulled by a large and temperamental creature called a 'blurrgh', and the kind being who had offered to guide their way was gazing down at her as she sat up and rubbed at her eyes.

They had travelled all night, it seemed, and the sun was just beginning its ascent into the sky as she awoke from her slumber. The Little One rested in its pod, still sleeping after filling its belly full of frog the night before. Though she had been sceptical as to whether the frog was the most appropriate choice of cuisine for a youngling, she was glad to see it eating its fill. They'd received naught but scraps for some time now, and it showed on how thin her frame had become.

Splurging in the rations she had found in the bounty hunter's ship the day before had been the most she'd eaten in one setting in a very long time.

"You have awoken." Stated Kuiil factually, and she gave a nod at his statement before glancing towards the Little One. The Ugnaught tossed her something that looked like dried meat, which she took gratefully from him. "Eat, child. You must regain your strength."

Noha did not need any further prodding, and she ripped off a large portion of the dried meat and began to chew vigorously. She was ravenous, and the friendly companion must have taken notice of it, for as soon as she had finished, he threw her another piece.

She had no idea from which animal the meat had come from, and she found she didn't care. Perhaps she was eating frog, like the Little One had.

"Are we close?" She asked curiously, turning her gaze to the horizon, where a mountainous looking structure blended in easily with the other rock formations. "Is that their abode? Over there?"

"It is." Affirmed Kuiil with a simple nod. "If all goes well today, we will find a resource to trade for the parts that were scavenged."

"Stolen." Corrected the incensed Mandalorian who was at the head of the cart and holding the reins. "They were stolen."

There was a sudden urge she had to sling an 'I told you so' at the moody bounty hunter, but if she'd learned anything over the last few days, it was that he did not care for her commentary, and she decided that she would much prefer to continue the rest of their journey without a gag.

She had warned him though, at least she could say that.

They remained in silence until they stopped at the rear of the great armoured fortress, and were greeted immediately by the loud squealing of a group of very distressed Jawas, many of them pointing in accusation towards the Mandalorian who steered the cart that she and the Little One rode in.

"They really don't like you." Commented Kuiil lightly.

"I vaporised a few of them." Returned the bounty hunter dryly, seemingly unbothered by their hostility towards him.

"You must leave your weapons behind." Kuiil glanced between the man and the hooded creatures, giving the mercenary a pointed look. "It will facilitate better negotiations."

"I'm a Mandalorian." He returned steadily. "Weapons are a part of my religion."

Noha thought that his religion sounded like a morbid one, but did not speak her mind.

The pair dismounted, heading towards their trade negotiations, though the Mandalorian was quite reluctant to part with his weapons. Before he left, however, he turned towards her, voice stern as he spoke.

"Stay here, and don't even think about touching the weapons."

"Since you asked kindly." She responded mildly.

"Just stay put." He groused, tossing his blaster he looked unhappy to be parted from into the cart.

She waited until he was a few paces away before whispering to the Little One.

"He's grumpier than I thought he would be. I wonder if that's part of his religion too?" She commented with a small laugh. "And I'd bet all my credits, if I had any, that he's still got at least a dozen weapons on him. What do you think, Little One?"

The Little One laughed with her, often quick to let out a small giggle if anyone else in the vicinity was laughing. She was just happy to hear his delighted cooing and entertained laughter as the negotiations took place. Their time held captive had involved very little laughter.

She took care to keep the Little One occupied, bouncing him in her lap and playing around as the grumpy bounty hunter yelled something at the Jawas in a language she could not comprehend.

Though, guessing at the laughter that followed, it seemed he was a bit rusty in that language as well. She nearly snickered along with the little hooded scavengers, but she figured she ought to stay on his good side if her fate lay in his hands.

There was a flash of something that looked suspiciously like fire in her peripherals, and if she had to wager a guess, she might say that the grumpy man under the mask was edging closer to truly losing what little remained of his temper.

Noha lifted her head from the little green youngling as two of the Jawa approached, one of them even going so far as to nudge her in the shoulder with a metal rod.

She didn't really mind it, she found the strange hooded creatures interesting, but the bounty hunter certainly seemed to mind.

"Get away from them!" Came the livid command of the Mandalorian, and they scattered in fear of retribution.

Noha returned to playing with the Little One, who was more content to be held by her than to sit in its bassinet.

She was not concerned, she had seen the most likely reality as she had slept on the way there. They would get the parts no matter which reality became theirs. Therefore, she found little need to spend time worrying about it.

It would all work out in the end. She'd seen it.

…Hopefully.

The Mandalorian returned to the cart less than pleased. It was evident in the body language as he jammed the blaster back in its holster and swung the long rifle onto his back so hard that it hit him in the back of his armoured head.

He let out a foul swear in his frustration. Or at least, she assumed it was a curse. It wasn't anything in Galactic Standard or any other language she recognised.

"There are children present." She stated in mock-disapproval, and she could not be sure, but she felt quite certain he might be sending her a nasty glare from underneath that helmet of his.

"Come on." He bit. "We're going with them to get an egg."

"To eat?" She joked.

Eggs tended not to sit well with her stomach, but she did not voice that aloud. She had a slight suspicion he wouldn't find it amusing.

He did not indulge her in an answer. She hadn't truly expected him to.

She could practically feel the distress and annoyance radiating from him as she placed the youngling in his pod and followed behind the tall and armoured man as they boarded the wheeled fortress.

The corridors were small and tight aboard the massive rover, and though the Mandalorian had to duck and crouch through all the passageways and maze-like tunnels, Noha was able to walk perfectly upright.

A perk of being shorter, she supposed.

She remained grateful for her shorter height as the man in the armour continued to bump his head on the ceiling as the great and massive fortress plunged and rumbled forward over the unforgiving terrain.

All in all, the ride wasn't so bad. She really couldn't see why the Mandalorian was so worked up. The Jawas were even growing on her, if only a bit. The Little One seemed quite amused with them, and they with him as well. Even Kuiil seemed at ease.

When they finally came to a halt, he turned to her.

"You're coming with me, both of you." He stated. "I don't trust them not to sell you to a Hutt."

"Could you at least take the restraints off?" She asked imploringly. "I won't run."

She had complied in order to gain his trust, not complaining even when they dug into her flesh and blistered her flesh on their journey from the compound. Noha had hoped by now that he might have begun to trust she wasn't going to dash off, but it seemed there was little luck to be had in that department.

"No."

"Please?"

"Ask again and I'll tighten them."

She sighed, but ultimately complied, following him as she had for the last few days.

He stalked forward quickly over the cracked ground, and she struggled to match his stride. After a kilometre or so, she called to him.

"Can't you slow down?"

There was no verbal confirmation that the man had heard her, but after a moment or so, he slowed his pace, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

It was not long before they came upon the cave that had been described to them, the massive hole in the rock formation producing a rancid smell that Noha could not help but wrinkle her nose at.

"Stay here and don't move." He instructed, disengaging the grappling wire. It retracted back into his gauntlet with a small hissing sound.

He turned then, striding purposefully towards his destination. She waited until he had disappeared before she made her move, ignoring the command completely but having the sense to do it when his back was turned.

"I know he said not to move," She muttered absentmindedly as she directed the pram carrying the Little One to follow her while she began to climb to higher ground. "But things are about to get nasty."

The youngling blinked at her, which she interpreted as a question, though she had no idea what the action actually meant.

"No, no." She responded to the make-believe question she imagined coming from the youngling's mouth. "He'll be fine…I think. I only saw the outcome, but I'm fairly certain he'll make it out alright."

The child made a hesitant noise, which she responded to.

"Yeah, me too."

The silence seemed quite loud as they waited in earnest from their position perched in the rocks above the muddy field below, but they did not have to wait long.

He had wasted no time in angering the beast that dwelled in the cave, and she and the Little One winced in tandem as he was thrown from the cave to land in a pool of mud.

Ouch.

From there, the battle ensued, and if she had not already seen so many outcomes telling her that he would be successful, she would likely have begun to worry. He was "getting his arse handed to him" as she had heard it said in the fighting rings of Corellia once.

The mudhorn tossed him around as if he were nothing more than a rag-doll, and after one particularly harsh blow to the chest that would have crushed anyone else if it weren't for the Beskar, she began to wonder how he would manage to escape with his life, let alone the egg he needed.

The Little One whimpered as the beast slammed its horn down on top of the steel breast plate again, and she felt her features scrunching in confusion.

"This isn't what I saw." She murmured. "That can't be right…unless…"

Unless he had some sort of help to defeat it.

"Oh!" She exclaimed a rushed breath of realisation, glancing down towards the Little One, who blinked at her.

A moment of silent understanding passed between the two before the youngling reached out a tiny hand without hesitation, seemingly aware of what needed to be done.

There was always a sense of awe or admiration that came about when she saw the Little One bend that odd energy that resided in both of them to his will, and this time was no different. The youngling was concentrating, using all its energy to give the bounty hunter the chance to end things to his favour.

And after one wild look in their direction, he seized the opportunity, plunging his blade into the side of his foe before they both collapsed in the mud.

The Little One also collapsed then, having exerted itself to the limits of what the tiny body could handle.

"Sleep, Little One." She whispered to it. "You've earned your rest."

And sleep it did.

.

.

The parts rattled in the cart as they continued the long journey back to the Ugnaught's homestead.

Noha sat obediently at the feet of the Mandalorian, who was seated atop a box that looked like it might be the communications transistor unit. Her knees were drawn to her chest, and her arms were crossed over her knees so she could rest her chin atop them.

He had removed her restraints immediately after his battle with the mudhorn, without uttering a word. It was the first thing he had done after checking on the youngling and taking a moment of rest.

Her wrists were an ugly myriad of deep blues and purples, the bruises and welts that encircled her delicate skin standing out sorely. She was grateful, however. It meant that seedlings of trust had been sown, and she hoped they would continue to grow. If they grew, she would nurture them until they bore fruit.

The Mandalorian glanced towards the Little One, who remained enveloped in an exhausted slumber inside the pod that hovered along to his side, and she could sense that he was worried for its wellbeing.

He had not spoken to her since removing the restraints, and that had been hours ago.

Noha could tell the armour-clad bounty hunter was conflicted, drawing deep within himself to contemplate what had happened and wondering why the Little One had chosen to help him or why the girl had allowed it instead of letting him die and disappearing. She didn't even need to use the energy to feel for his emotions, it was obvious in his silence and tense posture. He was bothered, and she could take a guess as to why.

Finally, after another hour or so of silence, he spoke.

"Is it injured?" Was all he asked, though she knew he likely had about a thousand other questions he wanted to ask.

She certainly would, if she were in his position.

"Just drained." She responded quietly. "The Little One used too much of the energy in order to save you."

The Mandalorian stiffened at her words.

"Explain it to me again." Requested Kuiil from atop his mount. "I still do not understand."

"Neither do I." Admitted the bounty hunter, before shifting his attention to the young woman at his feet, who met his gaze with a grimace. "But you do. Don't you?"

Noha looked down at the accusation, pressing her lips into a thin line instead of answering, for how was she to explain to others what she hardly understood herself?

Feeling something within yourself and being able to offer a rational or scientific explanation of it were two vastly different concepts, after all. And Noha made little to no sense on a good day, when she knew what she was talking about.

"You were so eager to talk before." He intoned, clearly displeased that she had chosen now of all times to remain silent. "What changed?"

She traced a finger over the discoloured bruises on her right wrist, contemplating her answer before speaking.

"The Little One will sleep until it regains its strength." She offered the vague comment.

"That isn't what I want to know." He returned, though not angrily this time. It seemed that anger had been sapped from him.

Perhaps he was simply too tired to be angry, or perhaps he was now conflicted. Either way, the tone was softer, his demeanour gentler than it had been before.

"It used the energy." Noha stated simply, not quite sure how else she could put it into words.

'The energy' was the name she had given that nearly tangible life-force within her, the one that showed her the dreams and allowed her to feel things that others couldn't. There was no other word for it…or not one she was aware of, at least.

"What energy?" He prodded further, and Noha frowned as she contemplated how to explain it.

He waited patiently for her answer as she pulled together jumbled thoughts within a jumbled mind.

It took a while. Noha's mind was not linear. It was tangled strings – knots and frayed ends that could not be set straight.

Still, he waited. She was grateful for that.

"It's inside of him, and it's inside of me too." She voiced, though this time it was hesitant. "I don't really know what it is, or how it works. But it's how I know things I shouldn't, and it's how the Little One was able to help you today."

"And it's why there's a bounty on your heads." He summarised quietly.

"Yes." She gave another simple response.

No more words were exchanged after that, and she held her tongue.

She would let him think, to stew upon the events of the day, and to wonder: could he hand over his bounty after it had saved his life? Could he turn them over now that he knew they had committed no crimes to warrant a bounty on their heads? Could he hand over two innocents to the same ones who had been part of the governing body that had attempted to purge his people and culture from the galaxy?

Maybe he could. Maybe he couldn't. She had a feeling he wouldn't. She hoped he wouldn't. The man was a mercenary by profession, but even mercenaries had hearts.

She hoped he would think. She hoped he would think long and hard.

Their survival depended on it.