This is a bit of a longer chapter, but I promise, it is worth it! Thanks for reading :)
Between several hours of traveling, I was falling in and out of a deep slumber. I began to wake again, groaning at the tightness I felt in my back from the position I was laying in. I slowly sat in the seat, giving up on any attempt of sleeping soundlessly. The door to the nearby sleeping shaft was now closed. I suspected the Mandalorian was asleep inside, sneaking past me a few hours ago without me noticing. I rummaged through my pack and pulled out some dried meat, beginning to chew on it, searching the bunker of the Razor Crest with my eyes.
I practically choked when the door to the sleeping shaft flew open, startling me. The child was sitting in a hammock made for him, above where the Mandalorian slept. I could see the bottom of his boots and his side rising from his breath. My shoulders tensed and I met eyes with the kid.
He cocked his head and reached towards me again, this time with his eyes on my food. I watched him carefully. He managed his way out of the hammock, crawling over the sleeping Mandalorian, and shuffling towards me. Each step the kid took made my stomach flip—if the bounty hunter woke to find the kid sitting with me, I was afraid of what he would think. I stood up just then and backed up, away from the green creature, trying to put some distance between us.
"Hey, just stay there," I said softly to him, putting my hand out. My eyes flicked to where the Mandalorian slept. "I'm not sure he'll like it so much if you come any closer."
He stopped, watching me inquisitively, reaching up for my snack. I handed it to him and waited for confirmation. He made a sound of excitement and gobbled the dried food down in one swift motion, looking back up at me.
"I don't have anything else to offer you, kid," I said. He blinked once.
Suddenly, beeping above in the cockpit alarmed the both of us. Red lights were flashing in the bunker and the Mandalorian was awake. He scooped the kid off the floor and headed up the ladder to manage the incoming signal. I sighed out of relief and sat back down, buckling myself into the seat nearby. The beeping was frantic enough that at this point, I was sure there was potential danger approaching us.
There was murmuring from above. I heard croaks from the Frog Lady, and something else uneasy about the Mandalorian's voice. There was static from incoming receiver signals. The Mandalorian tried to diffuse the situation, but I could hear his discomfort.
"You might want to get up here," he said to me over the ship's intercom. I unbuckled myself and quickly climbed the ladder into the cockpit, gripping onto a seat next to the Frog Lady.
Two X-wings flanked either side of the Razor Crest. They had their weapons drawn-out and were attempting to guide us to a nearby New Republic planet. I side-eyed the Mandalorian. His gloved fingers flexed around the handles of the Razor Crest, the calls from the incoming signals going ignored. I was anxious about his next move. The Frog Lady noticed my wide eyes and nervously tightened her seatbelt.
The Razor Crest dipped suddenly, twisting and turning within the abyss of the galaxy to try and evade the X-wings. The Mandalorian, unable to escape via hyper speed, plunged the ship low towards an unknown planet. I held my breath and knew we were quickly losing altitude—the meter on the dashboard frantically flashing red. Beyond the cockpit, I could see arctic ice, the Mandalorian heading for a gorge of frigid environments. Through narrow eyes I managed to look out the window as the X-wing fighter jets maneuvered around the crevices to stop us, shooting their beams and just barely missing the Razor Crest. I swallowed hard, my stomach in my throat.
"Hold on," he advised, as though we were doing much less, pushing low on the control board and causing the ship to stop abruptly. We careened into a hidden gully, the ship scraping the sides of the crevices, picking off pieces of the exterior. We lost speed and the Mandalorian pulled on a lever, the engines of the Razor Crest creaking and twisting, causing us to slide to a halt. I gasped for air, grasping the seat of the chair like my life depended on it, panting wildly. The Mandalorian managed to fit the ship snugly between some barriers of ice. We were hidden just enough to keep us out of sight from the New Republic ships. Breathing quickly, I assessed the situation—the cold of the ambient air outside creeping in—and tried not to vomit. The Frog Lady sensed the dropping temperature as well and wrapped her shawl tightly around her, anxious to get down into the bunker to check on her spawn.
"Just wait one more minute," he said in anticipation. Our bodies tense, we heard the X-Wings speed by, their radio chatter vanishing in the static. They'd lost track of us. I grinded my teeth and paused, unsure of how stable this ship was in that moment. The Mandalorian let a few more seconds go by before flicking some switches on the ship's control board and calming his adrenaline down a bit.
As he was about to stabilize the ship, we felt the ground beneath us cave in. I dug my fingernails into the straps of the belt, my body lifting from the seat as the Razor Crest plunged down below into the ice of the planet. It felt like we were falling for several minutes before hitting the ground, the skeleton of the ship quaking from the impact. Darkness swallowed us and cold began to sink in further. I looked up and saw I was the only conscious being in the cockpit at the moment. Groaning, I knew the whiplash was going to hurt in a few hours. The seatbelt did its job well yet wouldn't budge, requiring that I reached down to my calf and slip my knife between my chest and the leather strap, slicing it with one movement. Because of the angle we were on I fell to the floor of the cockpit and wheezed, trying to control the vomit that threatened to escape. Once steady, I noticed there was no electricity within the Razor Crest. Pressing buttons to try and conjure a response, the ship whirred in disagreement. The Mandalorian stirred then, grumbling a bit—and likely a tad bit sore from the collision—but got right to business. Truthfully, it was no use—the Razor Crest had given its all in the plunge, and as far as I could see, there was no turning back.
"Stay here," he said, getting up from the pilot's seat. He climbed down the ladder to look at the damage below, and his stomach dropped at the immediate temperature change. The destruction was unsettling—large, gaping holes were put into the side of the ship from the unplanned landing. Sparks flew from exposed wires. He sighed, putting a wool blanket over the Frog Lady's spawn before stepping outdoors.
I watched the Mandalorian from the cockpit as he poked and prodded at the ship's open wounds. I was no mechanic, but I was sure this ship was on its last leg, and the next time we needed to get out of here, it might be the last time it flew. After my adrenaline had slowed, I stretched and released the tension in my shoulder that had absorbed most of the impact. My back was already stiff from the pinball effect of the Razor Crest falling into the depths of this planet. The Frog Lady was awake and frantically climbing out of the cockpit now to check on her spawn.
I walked outside and crossed my arms. The architecture of the ice above was intimidating. My footsteps crunched against snow and ice alike as I walked to where the Mandalorian was. He looked at me from over his shoulder, keeping his hands busy.
"There's no use," he said, echoing my thoughts, his voice sounding defeated. "There's too much wrong here that I can't fix. We could freeze to death out here."
He stood and wiped his hands as clean as he could on his thighs. The Frog Lady wildly approached us, her arms waving in the air. The Mandalorian tried to understand her but instead, he scoffed and walked back towards the ship—he was stuck here, on an arctic unknown planet with an unfamiliar language, a child, and myself. His hands were full, and he wasn't ready to deal with what he'd unwillingly signed up for. Watching his frustrated body language, I felt a ping of guilt for him.
After several hours of waiting, the Mandalorian was asleep in the bunker. I built a fire outside of the ship and was huddled nearby to stay warm. The Frog Lady joined me for a while but was fidgety—her gaze every minute or so finding its way back towards the ship, half of it still within the ice of the planet. I heard shuffling and looked up from my hood to see her walking out of the ship, her spawn on her back, the determination in her driving her to find a way to her husband.
"Wait," I called after her, trying to get her to stay with us. "Where are you going? You'll die out here, and so will your spawn."
She again waved her arms and shook her head at me, babbling something in her language with a strict tone. She secured her spawn more safely on her back and walked away, dismissing me, leaving webbed footprints behind. I watched her leave with stunned eyes before returning back to the fire I built, feeding it with small pieces of paper I had saved in my bag.
The Mandalorian woke shortly after. The child ushered him out of the bunker, an urgency about his cooing. He looked beyond the ship where I sat and began to approach me. It was obvious how unsettling I felt when I was in his presence. Whether he knew that or not, he didn't show it.
"The child seems to think the Frog Lady has left."
I nodded, avoiding eye contact. "Yes, she went that way—" I pointed to the path between the crevice's of ice. The Mandalorian pressed something on his helmet and began walking towards it, following her.
"It didn't seem like she wanted to be stopped," I called after him. He ignored me and kept his pace, the child nearby. I watched them disappear out of my sight, battling with myself internally—should I follow them? —but after a minute, stomped the fire out and jogged after them.
The Mandalorian acknowledged my presence with a stiff shoulder. I slowed pace to match his and we walked on in silence. His stride was strong and confident. I admired the beskar he wore and noted that his weaponry could kill any immediate threat we faced—unless it was large, or, if it severely outnumbered us. A face poked up from his shoulder and the child laughed lightly, his hand reaching up to signal a greeting. I was surprised at his happiness to see me. The Mandalorian felt similarly, and tucked the child within his sack, putting me out of his view.
We finally turned a corner to see the Frog Lady bathing in a warm pool of steamy water. Though I had a wool shawl wrapped around me now, my body ached to be warmer. I shivered and was tempted to do something uncharacteristic, but the situation was risky, and I was terrified to show any bit of vulnerability to this Mandalorian. I kept my secrets to myself and hoped I wouldn't have to unveil them. Better to be cold than incarcerated.
I stood at a safe distance from them as they collected the eggs from the pool and put them back in the Frog Lady's capsule. As they worked, I watched the child stumble away and into a quad of steamy organisms. I wasn't quite sure what they were, but I was certain they were alive, since this was the only warm area we'd come upon in this entire planet thus far. If I'd learned anything in my school years, it was that warm-blooded creatures existed, well, where it was warm. I eyed the Mandalorian, who wasn't concerned with what the child was doing, and told myself not to pay much attention to him. Even so, I watched the child carefully as he poked and ripped open one of the nearby bumps, revealing a young spider—and he swallowed it whole. I made a sound of disgust and shook my head, laughing a bit as the kid practically licked his lips with satisfaction.
A rumble beneath concerned us all. I stood my ground and exchanged nervous glances with the Mandalorian. The child gawked and cried out, the masses that stuck out of the ground around him beginning the shake with life. The Mandalorian barked an order to grab the kid while he continued to help the Frog Lady with her spawn—when I wavered, he urged me to hurry, and I sprinted over to where the child was and scooped him in my arms.
The mounds around me began splitting open. The child must have triggered something within this ecosystem. Hundreds of tiny spiders began crawling out from their nests, turning their heels onto where I stood with the kid. I backed slowly where the Mandalorian stood, the Frog Lady's eggs safely returned to her, and handed him the kid.
"What is this?" I said in a hushed voice. He shook his head and watched as they continued to emerge from tunnels in the ceiling. The more that showed up, the bigger they were—and I felt a sense of panic rise in me.
The floor vibrated and through the cave nearby, a spider, almost the size of the Razor Crest crawled out. It had large, long legs that were as thick as pillars. At the start of its abdomen was a circular face, and when it screeched out towards us, teeth lined the entirety of its mouth.
"The Krykna," the Mandalorian said besides me, his voice confirming my fears. "Run! Go!"
The three of us turned quickly and began sprinting through the laze of the ice, back towards the ship. The Mandalorian pulled the blaster from his holster and began to shoot at the smallest of the spiders, dangerously close to our ankles. I pushed myself forwards and turned the corners of the ice cave quickly, trying my best to escape unscathed. Above us the Krykna crawled on the icy roof, screaming out and sending its offspring racing towards us. I glanced over my shoulder at one point to see the Mandalorian's shoulders running behind me, the grotesque mass of the spiders gaining on us. We were losing speed and, truthfully, were at a serious disadvantage.
In his efforts to hold them off, the Mandalorian pulled a few bombs from his belt and stuck them on the side of the ice, running ahead as quickly as he could. The aftermath of the explosion gave us a small headway on the Krykna's young, though they poured in from behind and were largely unaffected. We sped around a corner and at last—the Razor Crest. As I ran towards it, I could see we were still largely outnumbered. The Krykna called more of its young to us, and its large body thundered above. Time moved slowly—my fingers tingled as they came back up to my normal body temperature from the running. I felt my forehead beading with sweat, the powerful feeling of the elemental energy pulsating around me. Feeling as though there was little option, I stopped in my tracks.
"What are you doing?" The Mandalorian spat, skidding to a halt. "Let's go!"
"No," I said reassuringly. I was panting wildly. "I can handle this."
The Mandalorian looked between me and the swarm of spiders headed towards us. Using his flamethrower, he killed a few stragglers that jumped at him. He waited for me still, but I urged him to run further backwards, and with one last glance in my eyes, he turned and hurried to the Razor Crest.
I breathed in and watched him take a few steps further away. Turning back towards the funnel where the swarm of spiders were seconds from emerging, I squared my shoulders up. The sickening sound of their limbs crawling on the ground made my skin itch. However, I allowed the familiar murmuration inside of me returned back with a purr, relaxing me with a shiver down my spine.
I sensed my connection to the ice. My ability to control and bend the elements was something I'd hidden for a majority of the last several years. I learned quickly that with the new laws in place—what a world the New Republic thought they'd created—my species was seen as a fiend, something to be spat at and brought in for torture, disguised as a tool for necessity. I'd tightly shut that inner piece of myself, boxed it away neatly only to be opened at the right moment—otherwise, I'd be in danger. Who's to say physical or mental danger was more unsettling? Perhaps when asking the right person, one answer would be more distressing than the other. Nonetheless, the present physical danger was the reason I'd expose myself.
With the spiders' approaching, I had to act fast. I used my abilities to control and bend the ice between the crevice's up and they began to build on one another. The funnel became more and more narrow as I brought the ice together, closing the gap before me. I felt an overwhelming wave of energy then, the spirits within me jumping with glee at my return, the blood in my veins hot with power. Within seconds of the Mandalorian turning and fleeing, the tunnel was blocked by a sheet of thick ice, stronger than the Razor Crest's hollow shell times ten, and the spiders slammed against the wall with a thud. I released the ice from my control, and it settled there with a groan, solid as a cement wall.
When I turned to look back at the Mandalorian, he was watching me with disbelief. The calm I had felt dissolved and returned with shame and embarrassment, combined with fear—what had I done? I couldn't reveal myself to this world, not yet, and I would become a puppet to the New Republic if they knew about me. The lid of my inner self snapped shut just then, my throat closing with fright. We stared at each other for a moment before a screech from above interrupted us, the Krykna mourning the loss of its offspring's meal. I looked up and saw it was probing at the ceiling that sat above us, hungry for revenge.
I bended the ice above me and demanded it wrap around the limbs of the Krykna. The frozen element obeyed—yet somehow, the Krykna still managed to penetrate one limb through. It came down to attack me, but I somersaulted rather clumsily away before it could reach me. When it retracted, I pushed a wave of ice towards the ceiling and covered the hole. The Krykna let out one last piercing call before slamming its entire body weight through the thick layer above us, crashing down feet away from where I stood. With seconds to spare I managed to shield myself from the worst of the blast, covering my face with my arm. The beast squirmed where it landed. When the debris settled, I glanced up to find the Krykna gaining focus and heading straight for the Mandalorian and the child.
"No!" I shouted, bending another sheet of ice in front of the creature. I simultaneously gripped its limbs with more ice, clenching my fists to do so to hold it in place. It sunk into the ground a few meters before it screeched again, struggling to release itself. I walked towards its face, looking it straight in the eye, and conjured a blast of fire into its mouth, using ancient bending moves that returned easily to my muscle memory. It panicked, and with all its strength managed to get one limb free without me realizing. It swiped towards me, gripping me around the waist and twisting me tightly. Lifting me off my feet, the Krykna watched me struggle, its exoskeleton flaky and smelling of dead carcasses. I gasped for air and began to fear I might not make it out of its grasp alive, but somehow, I bended a hot stream of fire at its open mouth. The Krykna began shriveling in its place, burning to pieces—before it did so, it tossed me aside, slamming my body against the hard-packed ice. I felt my shoulder crack and absorb the shock of the hit, knocking me unconscious before I tumbled down to the ground.