Good morning! I'm sorry this came out later than expected. I was being super finicky with it and it was a tough chapter to write! I thought I had a pretty clear idea of how it was going to go but then it morphed into something else and then I kept tweeking it and this is the end result. I think I'm happy with how it turned out...I may change my mind two seconds after I hit post but so it goes! Let me know what you think!

Once on board the ship with the entry hatch safely raised, the Mandalorian slumped the sacks over his shoulders onto the floor and began to rummage through one. After a minute he extracted another, smaller sack and tossed it to her without a word. Then, after securing the other two beneath the large military net that held the rest of his loose supplies in place, he headed up into the cockpit.

She stood there in confusion, holding the small sack in her arms, until the Razor Crest began to rumble and vibrate around her. Apparently they were taking off. Looking around, she noticed a metal bench running a few feet along the wall next to his weapons locker. She hurried over and sat down, buckling the straps hanging from the wall around her shoulders just in time to feel the Crest leave the ground.

It didn't take long for them to make it through the atmosphere and, once they were clear and the ship was soaring smoothly through empty space, she turned her attention to the sack Mando had tossed her. Curious as to what could be in it, she upended the contents onto her lap. A wad of cloth fell out and it took a moment for her to realize that it was clothing. More specifically clothing for her.

There were two pairs of dark-brown, thermal pants and two dark-brown, long-sleeved thermal shirts, meant to protect the wearer from the extreme temperatures to be found in space and on certain planets, much like those Mando wore himself. There was also a cream-colored, long tunic with short, wide sleeves. She assumed she was meant to wear it over the thermal clothes and wondered why until she saw the generously cowled neckline. It was meant to conceal her slave collar. A thick belt was provided to cinch the tunic in place if she wished to do so.

He had also bought a set of thermal sleep clothes in the form of a dove-gray, short-sleeved shirt and a loose, flowy pair of capris pants in the same color. The fabric of these was so soft she had to bury her face in them for a moment, she couldn't remember feeling anything that soft before. Lastly, there was a brand new, dark-gray cloak identical to the one he had lent her except this one had a hood that was attached to it and didn't brush the ground behind her as she walked.

She couldn't believe how generous he had been. Never in her memory had she been blessed with so many articles of good, sturdy, modest clothing to call her own. An unfamiliar emotion welled up inside her, burning her chest and making her eyes sting. She didn't have a name for it and found it to be a wholly uncomfortable sensation, but it was there nonetheless.

At that moment Mando swung down the ladder and headed straight to the weapons locker, intent on unloading some of the gear he carried on him. There was no point in remaining quite so heavily armed now that they were safely on their way in his ship. She tried to keep herself quiet but ended up sniffling slightly despite her best efforts. At the sound, he spun around to face her and all she could do was stare at him.

"What's wrong?" Mando barked, seeing tears gathering in the girl's eyes and trying not to entirely panic about them. He didn't know the first thing about crying females. If he was being completely honest, they scared the hell out of him. Was she hurt? Was it something he did? How was he supposed to fix it if she couldn't tell him, dammit!

"Are you hurt?" He demanded, before realizing how harsh he sounded. She shook her head and then hesitantly held out what she'd been cradling in her arms.

"The clothes?" He questioned, making an effort to gentle his tone. Why was she crying over clothes?

"Do they not fit?"

She shook her head again, pulling them close to her. She had finally pinpointed the emotion that had flooded through her at the sight of the clothes. Gratitude. Thankfulness.

They stared at each other in silence. Frustration was apparent in every tense line of his body but he was waiting. Waiting for her to try and explain herself. Unfortunately, she really had no idea how to express what she was feeling.

Blinking back the tears of happiness that had almost threatened to make an appearance, she managed to pull herself together and executed a deep, respectful bow.

Mando studied her for a long moment, nonplussed by her actions. She continued to hold the deep bow, obviously expecting some sort of response. Well, she wasn't going to get one from him. Brushing past her on his way back to the ladder, he growled, "stop that." and hurried back up into the cockpit.

Once there he slumped back into his seat with a groan. She had practically taken a year off his life. The clothes he had bought her were nothing fancy. Just good, sturdy, serviceable articles. The very basics. It made no sense to cry over them. Females made no sense. Every dealing he ever had with a female had always been overdramatic nonsense. And now, he had one living on his ship.

Well, the sooner he finished this job, the sooner he'd be able to get that collar off her neck, the sooner he'd be rid of her.

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Keep up. Stay out of the way.

Keep up. Stay out of the way.

Those were the two orders he had given her. However, he had also supplied her with real clothing. Since he didn't seem to understand why she bowed to him, she wanted to do something to show him her gratitude, but what? She didn't have much to go off of.

Keep up. They were on a ship. There was literally no way for her to fall behind so that was a moot point.

Stay out of the way. She felt she was already doing the best she could with that one. She hadn't left the cargo hold and had taken the opportunity to change into one of her new thermal outfits. However, she hadn't put the tunic on, deciding to save that for forays off the ship to maintain the integrity of the fabric for longer. Then she had sat back down on the metal bench and tried to come up with ways to be useful. For his part, Mando had remained in the cockpit. Making it all too easy for her to stay out of his way.

She wanted to do something, but what? Her eyes wandered listlessly around the hold until they fell on the pile of supplies messily stored under the cargo net. An idea suddenly occurred to her and a small smile curled across her lips.

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Mando had been hearing the girl rustling around the hold for about an hour now, accompanied by the occasional thumping sound, and was wondering if he should be concerned. It's not like there was a lot she could get into trouble with down there. If he believed her about not being able to hold a weapon. Which he thought he did.

Any normal slave would have taken any weapon they could get their hands on, especially if it was handed to them, if it meant gaining their freedom. Of course, she could simply be biding her time, waiting until he let his guard down or took her to a planet more to her liking. However, something told him he could trust her not to try anything with him as long as he did nothing to her. He had told her flat out that he planned to free her and he had done nothing to harm her or earn her distrust so she had no reason to try and attack him. For now.

Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound from below followed by an echoing Bang! Instantly Mando was on his feet and sliding down the ladder into the hold, blaster in hand. The hold was filled with thick, noxious smoke. Tapping his vambrace, he switched his helmet's view to pick up on heat signatures. If she was planning a sneak attack on him she would be in for a rude awakening.

Instead of finding her hiding somewhere in the smoke, waiting for him, he found her splayed out prone on the ground. He waited a long second but when she made no move to get up, he reached over and flipped the ventilator system into high gear. The smoke slowly thinned as the vents did their job and sucked it out of the room and spat it out into space. He switched his visor to standard view and approached where she lay. Her collar was glowing a faint blue, which had him reaching for the puck in his pocket. Noticing the button on it was also lit up, he pressed it and watched as both lights faded and her body instantly relaxed. So that's what happened when she disobeyed a directive. Good to know, he supposed.

Looking around, he found the source of all the smoke. One of his old smoke orbs lay on the floor, busted open a few feet from her. When she had picked it up, her collar must have recognized it as a weapon and knocked her out. She must have dropped it at that point and set it off. The question was, what had she been planning to do with it before that? Had she thought that, because it wasn't deadly, her collar wouldn't have reacted? Had she planned to use it to attack him? Where had she even found one? He felt sure he'd used them all. Not that it really mattered. It was clear he couldn't trust her to behave herself.

A soft moan drew him from his thoughts. Glancing over, he could see her beginning to stir. Moving quickly, he pulled her hands together and secured his cuffs around her wrists. Grabbing her upper arms, he hauled her into an upright position then lifted her onto the flight bench behind her. Her head lulled back against the wall but he grabbed her chin and pulled her around to face him squarely. He watched as her dark lashes fluttered, then opened, revealing those blue-violets of hers. Fear and apprehension filled her features when she found herself facing the stern blackness of his visor. But he was far too angry with her to allow for sympathy.

"What were you planning to do with this?" He demanded, holding the smoke orb in front of her face, so she could see exactly what he was talking about. Her eyes widened in recognition and she attempted to shake her head but he held her firmly in place.

"Do you know what I do to people who try to cross me?" He continued, keeping his tone hard and cool. She didn't move, barely dared to breathe, just stared at him with huge eyes. He released her face abruptly, only to grab her arm and haul her to her feet.

"Walk." He ordered, placing a firm hand on the back of her neck and pushing her to the back of the hold. He could feel her trembling under his hand and instantly hardened himself to it. Yes, she was just a girl. But she was a girl who had betrayed his trust by trying to lay a hand on a weapon. She was only getting the treatment she deserved.

They drew level with his holding cell and, more importantly, his carbon-freezer.

"Do you know what this is?" He growled in her ear. She jerked her head in a small nod, her trembling increasing.

"Then you know what it does."

Another sharp nod.

"Attempt another stunt like that and this is where you'll end up until I find someone to sell you off to. Shouldn't be too hard seeing as how I've already had offers."

No answer, but really what had he been expecting? Spinning her around, he kept his hand at the back of her neck, forcing her to look him in the face.

"I've been extremely lenient with you so far, but it takes a lot more than a submissive attitude to gain my trust. What little I may have given you, you just lost. I owe you nothing. Behave yourself from here on out. Because that," he emphasized his words by pointing at the freezer behind her, "is your only alternative."

With that, he spun her back around and pushed her into the holding cell. A four foot by five foot space enclosed by reinforced bars with nothing but a bucket in a corner for creature comforts. He slammed the door behind her and did up the lock. She wanted to act like a criminal? He'd treat her like one.

He stormed away without a backwards glance. This is what he got for listening to a pair of big, violet eyes and allowing a submissive attitude to lure him into a false sense of security. Hell, he'd known someone for over ten years and he hadn't placed as much trust in them than he had in her. Why? He didn't know her. He knew nothing about her! And look what that got him. A little vixen just waiting for the opportunity to strike. Of course he was angry! But no more. He'd finish this job, free her and be done. Until that time came, she'd stay in the cell or in cuffs. No more soft actions.

He made his way over to the ladder, intent on remaining in the cockpit for the remainder of the trip, but something caught the corner of his eye. Looking around, he found his pile of supplies pulled out from under the net and organized into several piles around the room. The net itself was rolled up and neatly hung on the wall. All of this being moved, revealed the small kitchenette he'd barely had time to think about, let alone use. The whole unit had been scrubbed and the cabinets stood open, ready to receive his food supplies no doubt. Sackcloth was hung in front of the vacc tube in a clear attempt at providing privacy. The tiny bunk room set up next to the refresher that he had taken to using for storage, was open and half emptied. That must have been where she'd found the smoke orb. A thought came to him.

Maybe…

No. He'd made up his mind. She was not to be trusted. He would not let this sight sway him in his opinion. He continued on his way to the cockpit, determined to ignore what he saw.