(A/N This is a bit weird, I know. But I imagine there would be a very long WTF period after discovering so many things in such a short period and in such an invasive manner.)
She could feel the questions haunting the ship. She had yet to leave her captain's quarters, but she could plainly picture Na'sara and Dev's faces as well as the tilt of Nala's head and Din's stiff posture.
She supposed that might be the Force. Is that how it worked? She remembered the fragments of her life that Luke had pulled to her attention. Her intuition when dealing with people and understanding what they needed or how they worked, that was the Force at work in her. Her unusually fast reflexes-the Force. Even her proficiency in batte was because of her connection to those around her, sensing danger and the shifts in energy.
It was all the Force.
Did that make it less her?
Was she still an excellent fighter? An empathetic captain? A star pilot?
She shook her head. She would always be those things, she supposed, but now she knew why such tasks could come so easily to her.
She sighed, looking at the ceiling above her bed. It was easy to run through possible conversations with her ade.
So you're a Jedi? Dev would ask.
No, I haven't received any training and I'm not part of their Order.
But you could be?! He would be so enthusiastic and his tactical mind would be running through possible future scenarios that this information would come in handy. A Force-user on the crew.
Did you know? Na'sara would ask.
No.
She would nod and try to temper her curiosity and ultimately fail.
Dev and I know the Jedi from some of your stories was related to you. You said- You said he was your grandfather?
Yes. Teena would inwardly groan and settle down to tell her father's story from beginning to end, including names and dates and the fact that the Jedi grandfather that she felt so close to and longed to know didn't even know Korkie existed, let alone Teena. They would learn all of her heritage then.
The Mandalorians in her crew were more difficult to predict.
Nala would respect her boundaries, but likely make just enough inquiry to verify her curiosity. Or perhaps her willingness to act in a matronly manner.
Teena scowled, wondering what Nala's base drive was. She was obviously devoted to Mandalore, but there had to be more. She'd seen tenderness in Nala's actions with both her ade and the three force-sensitives.
Sighing again, she allowed Nala to be a puzzle for another day.
Din, however, was a different kind of puzzle. He liked placing the world in simple categories: Enemy or not enemy. She would like to think there was a third category labeled 'friend' but didn't want to push her luck. His allegiance would likely be easy to shift if the situation called for it.
She rubbed at her bracers. Maybe he did see her as a friend. He hadn't threatened her life in order to recover her Beskar. Yet. And frankly he would have to kill her to take it. She pondered if there was any way their acquaintance would end with both of them still breathing.
The kids should probably know that.
She snorted thinking of that conversation
'Djarin isn't untrustworthy, it's just that his code of honor demands my death.'
Her snort turned into a chuckle and her chuckle turned into a full-bellied laugh.
Was she losing her mind? Did the Jedi dig around her head a little too hard or a little too much? She slowed her breathing again, still lying on her bed, and eventually fell into a restless sleep.
.
The silence aboard the ship was almost deafening after he'd become used to the ade's endless conversations, antics, and interrogations interspersed by Teena's dry humor and scathing wit. Now, Teena had isolated herself and it seemed everyone else had taken a vow of silence in her absence.
He saw the ironic humor in his own disquiet at the change, considering Teena herself often called his lapses of silence 'haunting' and 'annoying.'
At one point, in the galley, he and Dev could hear echoing laughter coming from her quarters. The boy's look of alarm mirrored his own worry. This was not the mirth he'd heard when she found him sleeping in the hold, it was entirely apart from anything he had equated to Teena in his short time knowing her. The laughter died down and the two started taking turns camping out outside her door. Nala and Na'sara gave them each a funny look for their choice of seat on the hallway floor (or in Nala's case a questioning tilt of her helmet), but left them to look out for the captain in this small way.
Still, no one spoke.
The engines turned and the holo dinged. Notifications alerted the cockpit of checkpoints and fuel levels. The galley's heater vibrated and the cooler hummed. But no one had words.
Really, what was there to say?
Din missed his son already, though he held some small hope that they would be brought together again eventually.
The kids could fawn over the Jedi and his tales that correspond to all the history they'd learned from Teena.
He and Nala could speak of the responsibilities he was going to face when he returned to the light cruiser Bo Katan Kryze intended the Mandalorians to use as a mobile base.
He could ask for further instruction on how to approach Teena. Especially considering the last time they'd spoken about her he hadn't deigned to share the information of her Beskar and now they knew she belonged elsewhere in the galaxy.
Or did she? She did refuse to go with the Jedi. But Din knew she was just as likely to refuse to go with him.
The ade could learn more of the Mandalorian heritage. He didn't know what all Teena had shared with them, but surely Nala could further explain the Creed so they were informed when they were offered the choice to join ranks.
He sighed, the sound overly loud in the silent hallway of the silent ship. There was so much to be said among just the four of them, and yet no one had words.
He heard the swish of the captain's door and looked over to see her startle at his presence. She was obviously unwell. He'd never seen her in sleepwear, but here she was with bedraggled hair, in a loose fitting shirt, thin cloth pants, and her right Beskar bracer. The other bracer was in her right hand, ready to fasten onto her arm, and she didn't seem to think shoes or any other foot coverings were important at the moment. Her gaze was wide-eyed and unfocused.
She stared at him for longer than expected, like she was trying to put together a puzzle in the dark and every other piece was missing.
"Captain?" he ventured, as he rose. She smiled at his reference to their first meeting, as was his intention, but it was followed by loose chuckles that made him worry further.
"I'm fine, Djarin," she said between odd little giggles. It was unnerving to see the level headed woman so affected. She had control over herself by the time he reached her side and he was further concerned when she started staring intently at his helmet.
"Are you sure you're alright, Teena?"
She shrugged her response this time, continuing to study him.
"What color is your hair?" she asked, to his astonishment. He had to consciously make an effort to keep from stepping back like she'd landed a blow against him.
"Why?" he asked slowly.
She shrugged again.
"If I can't look into your eyes when you kill me I'd at least like to imagine your face."
This time he did step back as if struck.
She just blinked at him, confused.
"Teena," he spoke very slowly and clearly, as if she was a cornered beast he was doing his best not to threaten, "why do you think I'm going to hurt you?"
She squinted at him and then looked to his spot on the floor and then her own door.
"Why were you waiting for me?"
"Not to hurt you," he answered in a hard tone. Her lips twitched as if she wanted to give her signature smirk, but couldn't quite bring herself out of whatever fog she was still emerging from. "We do have to talk, but Dev and I heard you earlier. Right now I wanted to make sure you were alright." She hummed slightly as she absorbed his words.
"I am alright. But I don't think I can speak to you about what you want to discuss." He noticed her hands clench before she finally finished securing the bracer around her second wrist.
"Tell me, what do I want to discuss?"
"My Beskar."
He hesitated, forming his response slowly.
"Yes, I would like to speak with you about that before we part ways, but that isn't what I wanted to ask right now."
"Oh? Well then, no, I didn't know I was force-sensitive. Does that suit you?"
He could feel a smile tugging at his own lips. She wasn't quite back yet, but the snappish remarks were getting closer to the Teena he knew.
"You're getting closer, but no, that I had already guessed."
She pursed her lips, her gaze finally narrowing and the dreamy, glossy state she'd been in became just a vivid memory.
"What other question could you possibly have for me?" she practically growled. He was glad she couldn't see his grin at her cold remark.
"Why didn't you go?"
She stilled and blinked at him again. For a moment he was worried she'd retreat back into whatever gloom had stolen her.
"I need to eat something," she finally sighed. She gave a nearly imperceivable nod of her head for him to follow, so he did.
She gave a small greeting to Na'sara in the galley, who asked if she was alright and commented on her odd attire. While grabbing some rations and a hot drink, Teena waved off her concern and informed her that she'd be retaining her pilot's duties for the remainder of the trip.
In the hall Teena and Nala gave each other a nod of acknowledgement, but did not stop to converse.
Teena stopped at Dev's bunk to check on his sleeping form and then continued to another bunk. It had obviously once been used frequently by someone relatively neat, and kept in disuse for their return. Na'sara and Dev's bunks had been much the same before she'd recruited them back for the mission. She didn't enter the deserted bunk, just glared at it for a time.
When she turned away she nodded her head back to her own quarters and he followed her in.