Hello to all my return readers, and welcome if you're new!
I've had quite a bit of time on my hands with quarantines coming back into place and life changing again, so I'm back writing as much as I can. Not to mention season two will be here in just a couple days, and then Halloween!
Which brings me to this chapter and the next: It will be two parts, and a Halloween special inspired by The Purge franchise. I was watching one of them a few nights ago while writing and this idea popped into my head, so I decided to try it out.
So basically The Purge, but make it Star Wars.
I did change some things, like the name of the event and some of the lore (?), but it's the same concept of temporary lawlessness featuring our two favorite space people. I'm trying to feel out the hazy storytelling of horror movies, but mostly just here to have fun 3
I'll get the next part up soon as possible, I hope you all enjoy this.

P.S. If you haven't watched the movies of which this is based off, please do so, the concept is SO GOOD. Also, keep an eye out for my Din/Zakia season two story that I'm going to get fired up as soon as the season starts ;)

GENERAL TIMELINE LOCATION: After 'At First', before Zakia's pregnancy

THE CLEANSE: PART I

"No Stormtroopers?"

"None."

"No locals?"

"No."

"New Republic goons?"

"Have you been listening at all?"

Zakia's icy gaze snapped to the Mandalorian. "Yes, but I'm just trying to keep everything straight. We're supposed to protect a family?"

"That is what Ran said." Din confirmed, pushing the hyperjump lever forward. The logistics of their new job were still fuzzy, but the pay was good and the people seemed reliable.

"It figures that fat bastard would be too much of a chicken to do it." Zakia propped her feet up on the Crest's counsel and leaned into her chair.

"It's just one night. How bad can it be?"

The planet they landed on was a strange sort that neither mercenary had ever seen before. It was located on the far out-skirts of a generally poor galaxy whose main export was produce. However, this planet was different. The civilization was far more developed, with a bustling main city that housed the spaceport which the Crest was docked in.

Zakia stood at the arms locker while Din strapped his beskar on, deciding which weapons were prudent. She was already armed with duel blasters on her thighs, but the way they had been told this night was going to go, she needed to be prepared.

"This looks nice." She murmured, selecting one of Din's lighter blasters. Zakia tucked it into the holster beneath her black jacket, securing a strap behind the barrel to lock it in place.

Finishing off her weapons with two small vibroblades- one in the sleeve covering either wrist- and a large one in each boot, she turned to her partner.

"Ready?"

Din was wrapping his cloak around his neck and into his cuirass as she spoke. "Yes. You have the address?"

"Affirmative." Zakia twisted a strand of hair around her finger. The blonde mane was curled in all directions, falling over her shoulders and back. She made a mental note to secure it in a braid once they were on the job.

"So, what exactly is the point of this… tradition?" Zakia asked as they deplaned.

Din's shoulders shifted as he scanned the mildly busy airstrip. "I was always told population control. Let people take their anger out this way and the starvation and overcrowding stops itself."

"Sounds like some Imp banthashit." Zakia appreciated Mando's slowed pace as they trekked towards the port gate. Din had the home coordinates plugged into his vambrace, in turn displaying the best path on his HUD.

"I know. That's why these people pay good money for protection."

She dipped her head in understanding. "So anything is legal?"

Din's helmet tipped forward in a nod, voice vanishing as his persona fell into place. It was triggered by them stepping out of the spaceport onto a bustling street that was paved a perfect black. Hovercraft floated along, and the two mercenaries both looked incredibly out of place.

"Lot of shiny for a poor galaxy, huh?" Zakia found the flaw in her own sentence. "I guess that's why they do this."

Weaving in between crafts and beings of all different origins, Din led them in the direction of the house they were supposed to protect. Signs everywhere advertised last minute supplies, comlinks, food, and safety systems. People spoke in hushed words about 'The Cleanse', with Zakia and Mando being the only two unbothered. The idea of 12 standard hours- or, half of a standard day- with no consequences was both thrilling and horrifying. Zakia was unsure of what to make of the whole thing.

There was still time before they were supposed to arrive at the job, so Zakia dawdled near various booths in the bustling city. Mando slowed whenever she did, respectful of her wishes and defensive when someone stared at her scarred face for too long. She ran her fingers over jewelry and weapons, eyeing a bo staff with blades hidden on either end.

"This could be useful." Zakia picked up the staff with the shopkeeper's permission, testing its weight and balance.

"A very versatile weapon, yes?" The shopkeep was an old man with gray hair and squinty eyes, whose skin was beaten by the weather. He wore light green robes, and eyed the Mandalorian with suspicion.

"Yeah. I think I'll pass though, thank you." Zakia could read Mando's apprehension through the tilt of his helmet.

"Stay safe."

They exited the weapons tent, Zakia strolling leisurely down the aisle way. It was the nicest market they had visited in years, and she wasn't about to skip by when they had almost two hours before their presence was required.

"Can you believe all this stuff, Mando?" Zakia wondered aloud as she stepped into a booth full of women and children, the walls lined with dresses and handmade items.

Each girls' hair was braided into intricate patterns and styles, with colors ranging on the darker end of the spectrum.

"Mando?" Zakia peaked back towards the opening when there was no response from her partner, but shrugged. He was an adult, and probably had no interest in the planet's latest female fashion.

"Is there something specific you're looking for, my dear?" One of the older women noticed her first.

Zakia had her hand on a simple dark grey knit top, and she turned to the woman. "Oh I'm just browsing."

At the sound of her voice, a barrage of small footsteps came towards her. Zakia smiled as three young girls appeared in front of her, all making grabby hands at her.

"Miss, can we braid your hair for you? It's very pretty!" The oldest chimed. Her own hair was braided into four sections, all wove together in the back with clear bands.

One glance to the wall behind the counter provided her with a set of prices, none of which were too outrageous. She smiled at the kids, who were all probably between eight and ten years old. They were bouncing with excitement, and she was putty in their hands.

"You know what, I think that's a great idea." Zakia smiled, and the women who were crafting behind their counter smiled and nodded gratefully. She spun towards the door, "I just need to get some credits from my partner."

Two steps into her quest, Zakia walked into a solid steel wall. Her eyes lifted to a familiar beskar mask, and she grinned. "Just who I was looking for!"

The Mandalorian didn't speak, only acknowledged her with a tilt of his head.

"These nice girls," Zakia tugged him behind her and motioned to the kids, "Are going to braid my hair so I don't have to."

The women and kids who had previously looked so open were now withdrawn, in obvious fear of Mando's presence. Zakia was familiar with the reaction, and set a careful hand on his chest to show them he was not a threat.

"He's okay. Right, Mando?"

Between Zakia's blue orbs and the little girls who were so excited to plait her hair, Din was helpless.

"I mean you no harm." His voice was less aggressive than normal, and it allowed everyone to relax.

Zakia sat on the floor with the three girls, who immediately got to work on her hair. She spoke softly to them about how she wanted an updo for work tonight, and they worked with her style. Din leaned against the counter a few feet away, not interested in wandering anymore shops.

"Are you here on an assignment, Mandalorian?"

Mando turned at his title, looking at the woman who had spoken. She was elderly, seated in a plush chair with knitting needles in hand. Her brown eyes were sharp though, taking in every inch of his weaponry and armor.

"I am."

She nodded, setting the needles down. "You know what tonight is then?"

A nod. "I've been told."

"It's an abomination." One of the other women, this one closer to his age, chimed in.

"I was under the impression it was a positive for this planet." Din replied, leaning a bracer onto the counter.

"It took our husbands away. All of them."

Zakia's eyes found his visor, and Din could feel the apprehension in her gaze.

"There are many who use this as an excuse, and many who hate it. The leaders will never change." The old woman said. "We've learned to live and survive."

"You defend yourselves?" Din inquired, curious as to how three women and an elderly woman- he guessed her to be their mother- could survive an annual night of murder and mayhem year after year.

"We hide. Lock ourselves away while the rich go off-planet." The younger woman again, this time with more confidence. "The men are usually the ones to fight it out."

"Brave of you to come here. Both of you are being paid handsomely, I hope?" The elderly woman aked.

"We work together. And yes, we are being well-compensated." Zakia replied, knowing how unlikely Din was to elaborate.

"Good. Stay safe. The Cleanse is dangerous, even for the most skilled fighters."

A hundred credits and an hour later, Din and Zakia were greeted by a butler droid. The Mandalorian immediately tensed up, but followed the machine into the home they would be defending. Zakia looked around with wonder, taking in high ceilings and marble walls adorned with art from all over the system. Din's beat up armor looked like it should be illegal in the house; even Zakia's old tactical coat looked scruffy in comparison.

"Ah, you made it."

A short, rotund man appeared from a door on their left, wearing business attire and a single monocle over one eye. He outstretched his hand for a shake, to which Zakia returned.

"We did. Beautiful planet you live on." Zakia tipped her head towards the door.

"Thank you." The man then turned his hand to the Mandalorian, who let it fall awkwardly.

"Sorry sir. This is my partner, Mando." Zakia introduced. "He's the boss when it comes to security and everything, so when lockdown time starts he's in charge."

"It is an honor to be housing and working with a Mandalorian, if only for a few hours." He bowed slightly to Din, who nodded his thanks without words. "My name is Hen Jalkung- I wasn't sure if it was mentioned in the listing or not."

"Yes, Mr. Jalkung, I think it was." Zakia decided. "Would you like to show us around and we can start deciding where to make a safe room and how this will be gone about?"

"Of course, right this way."

The pair followed, blissfully unaware of what the night had in store.