Chapter Three: The Force

I was a step behind the Mandalorian as we raced aboard his ship. He cradled the baby in one arm, holstering his blaster with his free hand. Glancing around, I only just noticed a swish of a cloak before Greef dropped himself from the upper landing.

Before he could utter a word, the Mandalorian leveled his blaster at the man's chest at the same moment I outstretched my hand.

The force of my strike and the impact of the blast sent him flying from the hull, flat on his back and unmoving.

With a nod, I glanced at the hunter, brows raised and a grin on my face, "Nice work, Mando."

The slightest, huffing laugh escaped him and he nodded once, turning on a heel and moving deeper into the ship. He didn't bother checking to see if I followed him, tossing a question over his shoulder, "What am I supposed to call you? Jedi?"

"No," I replied, sharper than I intended. If he noticed, he didn't say, instead making for the cockpit and dropping into his seat.

Taking a seat beside him, I watched him maneuver switches and levers at lightning speed, even with one hand. "Call me Ellaria. Leave the 'Jedi' out of it."

He didn't press, the ship rumbling as he guided it off of the ground. He glanced at the bundle in his hand, shaking it softly, gently.

"Can I see him?" I inquired, meeting what I assumed was his gaze as his head snapped in my direction, "I've helped you this far. I don't want to hurt him. He's-"

"Force-sensitive?" the Mandalorian questioned, his tone light before he continued seriously, "I don't know what that means exactly."

"He's attuned to the Force," I replied with a flippant wave of the hand, "with training, he could manipulate it."

"He could be a Jedi?" he sounded doubtful this time, "he's so… small."

"Well, eventually he could be one, if he had a Master," I replied, turning to face the Mandalorian fully, extending my arms and plastering what I hoped was a coaxing smile on my face, "can I hold him? Please?"

A sigh escaped his helmet, but he reluctantly did as I asked, shifting the bundle into my arms. "He… used the Force."

Knowing it went against his religion to say so, I blinked, brows high on my forehead. Not to mention, this little bean wielded the Force? "What did he do?"

"He stopped a mudhorn from killing me."

Laughing, I rolled my eyes, offering him a sarcastic smile, "Giving credit to a baby for saving your life seems awfully unlike a Mandalorian."

"It's true," he insisted, his helmet turning to the child in my arms, "it was off the ground, moving but... halted. I've never seen anything like it. Except for you."

"I've had training," I sputtered, eyeing the bundle in my arms in astonishment, "years of it! To lift a mudhorn… No wonder what's left of the Empire is interested in him."

Tugging the blanket back gently, I glowed at the face staring back at me. He was absolutely precious, with massive, floppy ears and enormous black eyes. His nose and mouth were tiny, the latter turning upward as I stroked his forehead. "You are special, aren't you, little one?"

"He's weak," Mando noted with a sigh, "whatever they did to him, it hurt him. He nearly died after he stopped the mudhorn."

"I'm not surprised," I cooed as the baby released a contented gurgle, reaching for my finger with his tiny claws. "He'll be alright. But we do need to get out of here. Any of those hunters that make it past your people will be on us. And anyone off world might intercept. Where do you plan on going?"

He was silent for a long moment and I lifted my gaze. He was watching me, the stare intense even through his helmet, and I pursed my lips, offering a prodding glare.

He turned abruptly forward, another beat of silence falling before he replied honestly, "I don't know. My main concern is distance."

Humming, my gaze fell to the baby in my arms, who struggled to get out of my hold. Loosening my grip, I allowed him to crawl out of the blanket. He sat on my lap, staring up at me with a soft coo.

Any anger in my soul quieted at the sound. A gentle smile played on my lips and I stroked his head, chuckling as he rubbed against my fingers like a kitten. "What's his name?"

"He… doesn't have one," the Mandalorian replied, sounding almost apologetic, "I wasn't supposed to take him. It's against the Code."

"Clearly," I laughed, offering him a placating smile when he glanced back at me, "I don't blame you. He's sweet. He should have a name."

"Come up with one," he replied, his attention falling to the Mandalorian falling into place beside the ship. The flying suit of armor offered him a salute before taking off. "I'm no good at that kind of thing."

"Let me think on it," I replied resolutely, allowing the child to climb down my legs and waddle toward the Mandalorian. He really was the most precious thing I'd seen in my lifetime. He reached up, toward one of the levers, and Mando twisted the silver ball from its tip. Dropping it into the baby's hand, he sent me a glance, daring me to question him.

I didn't, instead kicking my feet onto the dash, "So, a bounty hunter who's forsaken his bounty, a Jedi who's not much of a Jedi, and a powerful, Force-wielding youngling. What a troupe we make."

"You've had training," he noted, nosing the ship out of the atmosphere and into the blackness of space, "I thought the Jedi were destroyed."

"You haven't heard of Luke Skywalker?" I queried sarcastically, though a sad grin tugged at my lips, "there aren't many of us. I couldn't even tell you how many. But yes, I've had training."

"What brought you here?"

"It's a long story and I don't think we know each other well enough for that."

My tone brooked no argument, but fortunately for the both of us, he didn't push. I liked that about him.

"You would've killed me," he changed topics, "for crystals. If Greef is your only dealer, that... thank you."

Clicking my tongue, I attempted in vain to deflect, "I can find more. And I don't… need them, per se. It's part of that story that you'll just have to wait for. Suffice it to say, I won't kill you, Mando. You can trust me, if you want."

I found myself holding my breath as he fiddled with a few knobs and levers. I wanted him to trust me. I shouldn't have; trust was usually one-sided, in my experience, and I was typically the one placing it in those I shouldn't have.

Without a word, he rose to his feet, my heart skipping a beat as he offered me a hand, "I guess I'd better show you around."

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