"It's called a spate lozenge. It's a micro-explosive charge about the size of a pill that gets inserted into the skull through the nasal cavity." Senn spoke low. She sat cross-legged in her nest while Din saw to the ship's navigation. He turned in his chair to face her as she spoke.

"Belmund used to use them to intimidate his mercs. Most of the time he would just sedate someone-a trouble maker-and say he'd implanted one in them when they woke up. But sometimes he really would. And set it off as...an example…" Senn bit her own cheek to keep from breaking down. The Mandalorian's helmet tilted down.

"Were you and the Zabrak woman close?" he asked after a moment, though he already knew the answer. Senn stared ahead and nodded.

"Reika was one of Belmund's...concubines. She was always kind to me. And I was kind to her. I shouldn't have been. He's going to keep killing people he knows I cared about…" a tear escaped Senn's left eye. She wiped it away quickly, but struggled to stem the tide. "I've failed my mission and myself. I never should have…"

"Hey," Din cut her off and joined her on the floor of the bridge. He tilted her chin with one gloved hand. "That's not what the rebellion was all about. Right? You did your job and you did the right thing. Innocent people die. It's what comes from doing the right thing sometimes."

Senn nodded, trying to compose herself. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked almost straight into the visor. The green contacts she still wore shone with an unnatural intensity against the dull redness of her real eyes.

"Is that what you've found? In your Creed?" Senn murmured, trying to move away from the grief.

"I think so," Din replied evenly, releasing her chin. "At least, it's what I've seen. But...it's also why I still believe."

Senn swallowed hard and nodded.

"But we're going to find him, and make him pay." Din spoke low and resolutely as he stood again and returned to the consol. Senn smiled at his gesture.

"Are you always so dramatic, Mandalorian?" she teased, trying to shake her shellshock.

"Call it a side effect of my old age," he returned. Senn could hear a smile in his modulated voice.

"Old age? You can't be over 40."

"Something like that. I lost track a long time ago."

"That must be strange."

"Why?"

"Your identity is already so...hidden. Are you not allowed any sort of distinction?"

"I know who I am. The people I care about know who I am. What else do I need?"

"I suppose I'm just a little jealous,"

"Oh?"

"I've always felt my identity is also hidden to some extent. It's hard not to wish others could see me. The real me. Or at least not care one way or the other. Everyone sees a blind woman, and that's where it stops. If I'd grown up with a philosophy more like yours, maybe I'd be less bitter about my identity being so defined by...well, you understand,"

Senn trailed off and tried to scoff at her own melancholy. Suddenly remembering, she removed the irritating contact lenses and rubbed her eyes.

Din felt a pang of guilt as he recalled his own reaction when he first met Senn, battered and bleeding out in that dirt cell on Geonosis. It was also almost all he could see, until…

"I saw a blind woman," Din confessed suddenly into the silence. "...until you spoke."

Senn tilted her head.

"I don't even remember," she began. "I was pretty out of it."

Din stood once more and approached the operative. He knelt and took one of her hands.

"You were barely alive. But the first thing that came out of your mouth was an apology. You told Cara you were sorry. That you tried to stop them, but you'd failed."

Senn's shoulders sagged with the returning memory. Din leaned in and pressed his helmet to her brow. Senn relished the feeling of the cold beskar on her aching head.

"All you could think about was your mission. The others. Even at death's door. If that's not someone trying to do her job with integrity, I don't know what is," he offered softly. It was a relief to see her real eyes again.

"Thank you," Senn sighed.

"You even teased Dune. Tried to make her feel better when she was so worried about you," the Mandalorian chuckled quietly. "That's when I knew,"

Senn's thoughts screamed to a halt and she looked up into the visor. Din was already tripping on his own tongue.

"Knew what?" Senn prodded.

"That you...would become someone I would come to care about...deeply." he struggled out. Not knowing what else to say, Din simply reached up, slipped his helmet off, and placed it beside Senn so she would know.

"What a sentimental old man," Senn smiled. Din let out a half-chuckle. That sound alone made her want to even the playing field.

"When you told me your name," Senn murmured. "That's when I...knew too."

They both flushed with the warm well of feeling that battered against their unspoken words.

"I wanted to take you right there on that table back in the cantina," Din inched closer, his voice suddenly deep and rasping with a hooded hunger. Senn closed her eyes and savoured the sound. His warm breath against her face and neck. The Mandalorian swept a damp piece of hair from the operative's brow before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"Stars, Din...I wanted to ride you in that pilot's chair ever since…"

"That afternoon you patched me up?" he finished for her. His breath was getting thin. Senn nodded. Her hands found his pauldrons, his neck, his jawline. He hissed. He still wasn't used to the sensation.

"What else?" he whispered. He had never been much for dirty talk, but Senn had unearthed something in him, both ridiculous and wildly exhilarating. He suddenly felt desperate to play in this space with her.

"I know you were in pain, but...some of the noises you made while I was helping you with the cauterizer...I'm a little ashamed to say, I was wet almost the entire time I was patching you up." Senn blushed harder. Din groaned deep in his throat and closed the remaining distance between them.

"I wanted to grab you and pin you down in my bunk when you were helping me get the cuirass off. No one's ever...removed my armour but me before. It was…"

"Heavy?" Senn teased as his mouth began to ghost over hers-lips barely brushing her own.

"Unbearable…" he breathed, coaxing her mouth open against his own.

"What a twisted pair we are," Senn stammered between the deft strokes of his tongue as he kissed her long and hard. She fell quickly into the blissful rhythm he asserted. A wicked thought gently crossed her mind.

"What else have you only ever done yourself?"

The Mandalorian blushed and deepened the kiss. Senn was absolutely ruining him.

"This," he hummed as he took one of her hands, pressed it to the back of his own, and reached down to palm himself through his trousers. Senn drew in a deep breath and bit her bottom lip, hard.

Din recaptured that same lip between his own teeth as Senn took over the movement between them. He moaned softly into her mouth. Senn grasped his length and moved her hand up and down over his trousers as much as she could. He was so responsive-his cock twitching and pulsating with each movement. It sent heat and shivers throughout her core. The operative desperately longed for that intense connection. That comfort. She wanted to make him her own. Make him see stars. Her Mandalorian.

Suddenly, Senn shifted to the side, wrapped one leg around his waist, grasped his pauldrons hard, and spun them both with her body weight until Din lay sprawled against the wall of the deck in the warmth of her blanket nest. The movement had rid her of the large blanket that covered her. Din had forgotten how very naked she had been when he wrapped her up after their shower. This, combined with her expert combat maneuver, had him practically panting with desire for her. His stomach and the beskar plating on top jumped with his heady breaths as she positioned herself over him, straddling his splayed legs to continue plucking at his pants and pawing his hard length.

With achingly slow movements, Senn felt up his body and down his arms until she grasped both his wrists. Sliding herself further up into his lap, she guided his hands down to his sides until they touched the cool floor, and slid them behind his back.

"My turn," she murmured, her eyes dark with intention. "I'm your hands right now." Senn finished low and rasping as she passed her lips back over his ear. Din shivered.

"You're good with your hands," he returned, though his words were laboured compared to hers.

Senn smiled and slowly began unbuttoning his trousers until his straining cock sprang from its confines. Senn wrapped her hand around the shaft and pumped once-slowly. Din grunted through his nose, his breath suddenly stolen away. Senn couldn't get enough of how sensitive he was. There was something about this image; the thought of him sitting there against the side of the ship in his armour, chest heaving beneath her hold, hands behind his back, helmet tossed aside, cock exposed and straining for her-that made Senn weak. But she was resolved to behave herself. She wanted to take his breath away.

"Promise to hold still?" she hummed.

"Yes," he uttered.

Senn added her other hand and pumped him slowly. Sinful noises escaped Din's mouth as he watched her work him-naked and powerful. When his skin began to warm even more beneath her palms, she withdrew one of her hands and dipped two fingers into herself with a soft moan.

A heavy huff of coveted longing escaped the Mandalorian's chest as he watched Senn finger herself while she stroked him. A moment later, she removed her hand from her core, dripping with her slick, and returned it to his throbbing cock.

A choked series of deep gasps and moans followed as Din's whole body shivered with the notion (let along the sinful sensation) of Senn's own arousal being used as lubrication for him. He threw his head back against the ship and huffed with exasperated pleasure.

Senn pumped him skillfully, shifting her pattern every so often to give special attention to the head and sensitive vein running along the underside of his length with her thumbs and forefingers. His hips twitched instinctually, trying to meet her strokes with more speed, but she wouldn't relent her steady pace. When the slick began to dissipate, she delved back into her own body for more, taking a moment to pleasure herself with the picture before her and the sounds that keened from the Mandalorian's tight throat and chest.

Din gawked at Senn's movements, so graceful and confident. He was practically driven to the edge each time she reached for herself, her expressions lewd and stunning all at once.

Senn slowly but steadily began falling into her own trap. The noises Din made were melting her resolve faster than she'd ever have guessed.

"I don't think I'll ever get enough of that," she breathed heavily, crawling close enough to sweep her lips over Din's stubbled chin.

"Enough of what?" the Mandalorian struggled out as she continued to pump him-her speed increasing.

"Your voice. Your enthusiasm. It's obscene...and so...truthful. I can't believe I get to pull those noises from you," she whispered.

"Senn," Din rasped as she squeezed him a little harder. "Only you. Only you have ever-ohh…" he couldn't finish.

The operative finally snapped and slid into his lap, a shock of cold on her thighs from the beskar plates on his legs. He gasped as she sank onto him. The whole of his length slipped into her with a slick sound. Her walls were so tight, almost throttling him, with her own built-up arousal. He filled her completely, on the cusp of pain.

"Fuck! Senn!" Din cried out. "Please…" he begged in a strained voice. "Please give me my hands."

Senn pressed her brow to his, sharing his laboured breaths for another moment or two. Finally, the operative gave in with a lusty sigh as she rolled against him once, twice, then reached down and retrieved his hands from behind his back.

"Alright-," but before she had even finished the word, Din was gripping her waist hard enough to leave bruises, launching from the wall, and rolling until he was nearly crushing her against the floor.

"You will be the death of me, cyar'ika," the Mandalorian panted as he thrust into her hard and fast. His movements became frantic, carnal, and fierce as he plunged into Senn over and over again, his hips snapping with strong, solid pumps. He ran his fingers through Senn's hair, gripping her scalp, and capturing her lips in another desperate kiss. He wanted to seal their bodies together in as many ways as he possibly could. He wanted to feel this level of connection with Senn forever.

"You...are my-Aaa-," Din's whole body stuttered with his sudden, violent release. Ropes of hot cum filled Senn and sent a mirrored reaction into her own body only seconds later. She raked his scalp with her nails and did her best to meet his urgent thrusts with her own hips. She was practically pensile in his arms; suspended in a blissful state of pleasure and overwhelming warmth. The affection in his voice contrasted with the animalistic enthusiasm of his movements was no less than euphoric. For the first time since losing her sight, Senn decided she could still die happy without ever seeing another sunset. This was all she wanted.

The Mandalorian shuddered and groaned with heavy breaths as he slowly came down from his release.

They remained a tangled mess of limbs wrapped around each other for long minutes. Neither one wanted to let go. Din finally conceded as he grew soft and slipped from Senn's swollen folds. He rolled them both, one large hand beneath Senn's head, until they lay fully on the dishevelled pile of blankets and linens against the wall.

Neither of them felt the need to speak. Nothing needed to be said. Instead, they both drifted off into a lazy sleep, heads pressed together, fingers entwined, and hearts full of warmth.