Notes:

This chapter mentions a certain Jedi seen in Star Wars: Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith (2017) comic. They are never named but it's a minor spoiler if anything. More info/spoilers at the end!

PS. Read this comic if you love a ruthless Darth Vader, it's so fucking good!


Chapter 2: The Vision

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After leaving Sorgan two weeks ago, The Mandalorian spent doing odd jobs around the outer-rim, slowly making his way towards the mid-rim. He was currently hiding out on Karlinus, an agri-world located in the Chommell sector. It was a few parsec jumps away from Numidian Prime so he figured it was a good time as any to buy several meiloorun melons and find supplies before heading back towards the outer rim.

He perused a local farmers market, stocking up on rations while keeping an eye out for the melon that will hopefully make his quarry not as hostile as he thought she would be.

The Child had tagged along to escape the stuffed ship. He left the safety of his floating bassinet and toddled from stall to stall - his cute charm persuaded many of the softhearted vendors to give him samples of what foods they were selling - the little con artist. He seemed content with eating something that was not in his diet of frog legs and bone broth.

The Mandalorian kept a watchful eye on his young charge. "Once we find the meiloorun melons, you'll never want to eat anything else." He paused mid-step with an ache in his chest.

"Hurry up! Old Man Loginnu has a bunch of meiloorun trees ripe enough to be picked already. I don't want to eat anything else besides that for the whole week! Her face was a blur but it was a little red-headed girl. She laughed, climbed to the top of the farm's border fence and yelled down to the smaller child. "What are you afraid of?", and flipped over to the other side.

"What am I afraid of? Its old man Loginnu! That's why! He'll skin us alive a-and display it for the e-entire village to see! I heard he has an e-entire bantha rug he killed and skinned himself!" The smaller boy's voice cracked with fear. He struggled to climb over the fence as the older girl did. The fence snagged his red robe and he topped over, thankfully, into the girls awaiting arms like she had been anticipating his blunder. She set him down. "Don't be silly, Din-in! He can't do that to us if we don't get caught. Let's hurry!" The young girl ran into a thicket of bushes leaving him behind.

"Wait, what do you mean?!" The young boy shrieked reluctantly following the blur of red hair that was headed for the meiloorun trees.

The hunter picked up his pace, burrowing that memory down with all the other unpleasant ones. It was no use remembering the past. No use thinking about a dead little girl and her fixation with the fruit he was looking for.

In the midst of burying those memories, he noticed the Child wasn't by his side anymore. He turned back to see him walking a little slower than before and then just plop down on the dirt road. The Mandalorian's shadow fell over the little creature in an instant. He kneeled, eyebrows furrowed, palms sweaty as he gently touched its wrinkled head. A million thoughts ran through his head as to what ailed the Child. As the Mandalorian fretted over the baby, it gave a lazy crumb-littered smile to his protector and his eyes starting drooping.

The kid was certainly giving him more gray hairs earlier than anticipated. The little thing had tired himself out by eating all those samples. He placed the child in the floating bassinet, tucking him in and wiping off the remnants of crumbs with finally closing the hatch so he won't be bothered.

The Mandalorian trudged on through the farmers market with the bassinet close to his side. He visited almost every stall but none of the vendors were carrying the melon and was about to call it quits in his search when a prickling sensation entered his mind with a warm wispy voice calling out to him.

"Looking for this, Mr. Mandalorian?"

He turned to see an old woman holding the blasted melon in her big wrinkled fleshy hand. She was a light red in color, her hunched body was covered by overlapping robes but her head was huge. It held two large, curved horns protruding downwards towards her chest.

He cautiously strolled over to her stall that held baked goods. Not once had he expressed to the vendors that he was looking for that particular fruit. His hand hovered over his blaster, his narrowed eyed studying her.

"There's no need for that you know."

"No, I don't know. Who are you? How did you know I was looking for it?" Paranoia settled in his stomach.

"I had a vision last month during my daily meditation that you would be coming soon."

He scoffed skeptically at this.

"I take it you are not familiar with my kind." Shrugging off at his tense rudeness.

She went further into her stall, a silent invitation for the Mandalorian to follow. He did - figuring he would have the upper hand if anything were to happen. He needed that melon.

She led the duo through a hallway that was attached to a bigger dwelling, her house. The room they stopped at was an eating area. There was a small table with a couple of chairs. She wheeled in a wooden barrel as a third seat. The hunter watched with careful eyes, surveying every inch of the interior and at his host who was coming back and forth from a nearby kitchen - he guessed - since she was setting the table with place mats, utensils, and dishes. Finally, bringing out a tray of fruit tarts, a pot of tea, warm bread, and a jar of jam.

He occupied one of the seats at the table. "I'm not hungry, thank you." He lied. The food she set out looked good and smelled very familiar, he had skipped lunch and breakfast had been hours ago.

"Oh, it's not for you, it's for the babe", she corrected him.

He figured she probably saw the greenling out at the farmer's market before putting him in the bassinet.

"It will go to waste, he's sleeping at the moment," he countered.

She sat opposite of him, her eyes twinkled and her smile widened. She filled the cup with tea, the plate with food and pushed it gently over to the Child's bassinet. Before he could protest again, there was a small coo of the child wanting to be let out. The Mandalorian made a surprised noise at the back of his throat which he tried to cover with a cough. The cover to the bassinet unfolded at his command. Big sleepy but curious eyes drank in the setting they were in. His eyes immediately zoned in on the treats at the table. The woman was amused as she watched the Mandalorian let out a heavy sigh and placed the child on top of the wooden barrel. The kid really did not waste any time inhaling the offerings.

"Thank you." He amended with sincerity to his rude responses earlier. "However, I still have questions."

"I will only answer what I know of." She offered.

He wasted no time in questioning her. "I know what your species is. You're an Iktotchi. But I'm not entirely familiar with the abilities that pertain to your kind."

She sipped a bit of her tea, thinking of how to explain it plainly to the Mandalorian. "Precognition is what they call it. Knowledge and perception of the future. My old age and distance from home have greatly affected it. I used to be able to think about the hours, minutes, days, years into the future. Now it takes great effort. When I was once able to command it on my own, now it comes by itself in fragments."

He watched her spread some jam onto a piece of bread before offering it to the Child and then doing the same for herself. The only sound he could hear was the bustling of the locals outside, the noisy munches of the child and the static breathing coming from his helmet.

He waited for her to continue, he was sure there was more to it than that.

"When I first came here, it was difficult settling down. The villagers were wary of husband, my son and I since we all shared the same abilities. No one would buy or trade with us. One day, my husband had tried to warn the villagers of incoming raiders. He had foreseen them, but the villagers didn't listen up until their homes were in flames."

She paused, refilling the cups with tea for herself and the Child.

". . . My husband died protecting them. The village had come together and apologized for their actions, finally accepting us for the heroic deeds my husband did that night. For years I was part of the village council, my visions had helped us. No more being un-prepared for raiders, bad crop years, or bad weather. But with my aging mind, I retired. Now the villagers come for my fruit tarts and jams more than anything." She smiled at that last part.

The Mandalorian was silent throughout her tale. His helmet moved as he peered around, his bio scans didn't pick up any other set of footprints beside theirs.

"My son is not here anymore if you're wondering… he was recruited by a faction of the Galactic Republic a long time ago. And when the Republic became the Empire, that's when he died. I saw him you know. He was fighting on a water-world, I think he was trying to help the Rebel Alliance." The hand that was holding her teacup trembled slightly. "I saw a dark shadow kill my boy. That day was when my precognition ability had started wavering."

"I'm sorry", the Mandalorian said looking at her pained eyes. The same war she had mentioned was the same one where he lost his home, parents, and his dear friend. He understood her loss and pain very intimately. She was all alone with no family and away from her people much like he was. His fists curled on his lap.

"It all happened long ago my dear boy," she lamented.

She excused herself from the room and ruffled around as if she was looking for something. After several minutes, she came back with a covered bushel basket before disappearing back into the kitchen. Like any good hostess, she brought out more fruit tarts for the Child who happily accepted.

He sensed the Iktotchi woman wanted to move on from her pained past, but she hadn't yet revealed what she saw in her visions pertaining to him.

Trying to coax more out of her, he continued the conversation. "So, because of your gift, you saw I was searching for the meiloorun melons."

"Yes," she confirmed. "The melon trees grow by a river about two days walk from here. I cultivated them before you arrived."

She uncovered the basket, and there the melons were. He leaned in, judging the bushel. He picked one up and showed it off to the kid. It had an orange and yellow rind with horn-like spines scattered around it. She had picked them at their ripest, they were all a good coloring and he recognized the pleasant aroma it emitted - threatening to jog that memory from before.

"I took the most handsome ones, made tarts and jams out of them. I was told by the teenage ragamuffins that they taste quite 'kriffing good'." She barked out a laugh.

Ah, so that's why the treats smelled so familiar. They were made from meilooruns. It had been years since he last ate the fruit, surprisingly the smell of them never escaped his memories.

"As I said before, I had my vision about you and this fruit nearly a month ago. Visions correlating to it came in fragments and when I saw you today it all made sense. I didn't know what will happen, but my visions never steer me wrong. I saw where the melons were located, when it was the right time to go pick them and when you were going to arrive and with whom… all according to plan." She sounded proud of herself and he knew she was telling him the truth.

The Iktotchi started putting everything away, their conversation wrapping up. The hunter picked up the greenling, wiping the remnants of crumbs again before placing him in the bassinet.

"You're going to need seven." She placed the meilooruns in a sack and disappeared back to the kitchen for a moment.

When she came back he asked, "Why seven?"

"Call it a woman's intuition," she revealed nothing with a mischievous smile. He mused it was something with her Iktotchi abilities.

She guided them back to the front of her stall. They must have been talking for a couple of hours since the planet's sun was starting to set, casting a warm glow to everything in its path. She held it out the sack to him and he tried to compensate her with Cara's small pouch of credits.

"There's no need for that." Pushing the pouch back to him.

"I insist." The Mandalorian's paranoia had long ceased. The old woman had shown him nothing but kindness. She was a good person and he wanted to do right by giving her something in return.

"I make triple the amount in two weeks. Your company today was sufficient Mr. Mandalorian. Now I can have other visions that don't pertain to this fruit." She quipped and was certainly not wavering with her decision.

She leaned into the green babe, her fat fleshy finger gently scratching his wrinkled forehead before straightening up and nodding to the duo a farewell.

The Mandalorian's shiny helmet tipped forward, echoing the sentiment. He walked away with the Child at his side, already dozing off with its belly full of meiloorun treats.

"Mr. Mandalorian." The Iktotchi woman called out to him as she did before. The same prickling sensation entered his head. He did a half-turn towards her. They were quite away from her house but he had heard her as clear as day.

Her mouth did not move. "The meilooruns are your past, present, and future . . . May the force be with you." Her eyes seemed to twinkle with certain knowledge, she then shuttered her stall and went back into her home.

Well, that was an ability she failed to mention. He mused over what she telepathically said to him, it was cryptic as hell. Were all Iktotchi like that? 'The meilooruns are your past, present, and future' - deciphering all that gave him a headache. Did she withhold visions and refused to tell him? He had half a mind to go back and find her.

And that last part - 'May the force be with you' - was that an Iktotchi blessing? He'd have to analyze all of that later on the holo-net to see if it revealed anything else about the Iktotchi. He continued on towards the Razor Crest.

The sun had finally set with darkness consuming the planet. The hunter finished loading up the supplies he bought and secured the sleeping Child to his sleeping quarters. Taking the meiloorun melons out of the sack, he placed them in a cooling chamber so they won't spoil so soon. The sack had an additional weight to them and he was pleasantly surprised to see that the Iktotchi woman had also packed a thermos of tea, a loaf of bread with a jar of meiloorun jam and also the fruit tarts. The food was divided and loaded up on to a small plate with the rest stashed away.

The Mandalorian climbed the ladder towards the cockpit while balancing his dinner. He settled in and inputted the coordinates for Numidian Prime - making sure the Child was still asleep he removed his helmet. The cool air of the ship tickled his tan skin, his ungloved hands ruffled his dark helmet hair and then swept over his face, wincing slightly as he passed over the growing scruff - that will have to be shaven soon.

The ship was now entering hyperspace, it would be a few hours before reaching its destination. He leaned back in his seat, dark eyes tiredly eyed the plate of food and he gave in. It was better than the ration packets he ate daily. "Yeah, that's pretty kriffing good," agreeing with the ragamuffins that had praised the old woman's baked goods - he ate every crumb before allowing the hum of the ship in hyperspace lull him to sleep. That night he welcomed the dreams of the little girl with red hair.

"See, Din-in? Told ya you'll never want to eat anything else!"

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Elsewhere on a rainy day in the deep jungles of Numidian Prime…

A Gungan barman was sweeping up the remnants of a recent fight in his cantina - the results of a Sabacc game gone wrong. He picked up flipped tables and chairs and continued gathering up the glass that was littered everywhere. His one eye frowned at a particular pool of blood staining his floor.

The batwing doors to the cantina suddenly opened and a cloaked figure entered. Rain droplets cascaded from the water-proof poncho they were wearing. The barman leaned against the broom and gave his late-night visitor a welcoming nod. The visitor exchanged the same greeting.

"How can mesa help yousa tonight M'lady?" He croaked out. His hand swept to the side, offering her a seat to a nearby booth. The cloaked woman made her way over to it and sat down, the Gungan doing so after she did.

She pulled her hood down, revealing a dark silver helmet with chipped blue paint outlining the Y-shaped visor. The woman's modulated voice rattled the empty establishment.

"Yo-Yorg, you sent word that you have some information for me?"

The Gungan, Yo-Yorg, cautiously relayed what he knew. "Mesa dun no much M'lady. A Klatooinian bounty hunta willa comen morrow. Hesa carries some information aboutsa da appearance of da Imperial Remnant."

There was a pregnant pause. The visitor clenched her red gloved hands into a tightening fist. Her breathing became labored and it translated to static through the helmet. Yo-Yorg's one eye carefully studied her actions.

She finally belted out, "How are you so sure about this? Its been a while since I've heard of a sighting."

"Yousa did a good too job with da other Imp huntas. Notsa many left." He grinned widely showing off his razor-sharp teeth.

"That's where you're wrong Yo-Yorg. The body of the snake still has its head. Like a snake, they're still hiding in a hole somewhere till its convenient for them to come out and strike again." Her hands itched to reach under the helmet and rub her temples to ease the growing headache.

"Da hunter had said hesa was there when da Imps started fightin'. Hesa said no more, wanting to be paid for da information." He then left the booth to go back towards the kitchen of the cantina.

The woman sat there, contemplating that small piece of news. She was trying to form a plan. This bounty hunter better has information on how many Imps there are, what weapons they were stocked with, and most importantly, who was their leader. Logistics, logistics, she was going to have to find a crew soon.

The barman came back, "Mesa has something to warm you up from the rain, M'lady. Ta-da! Soup with bantha meat and a side of fritzle fries!" The Gungan knew his lady never took off her helmet so he had the food packed up to go.

"You sure know how to cheer me up, Yo-Yorg." She got up from the booth and deposited several credits on the table for his help. She turned to leave and paused at the batwing doors.

"Send word when this bounty hunter arrives and let me know if anything else pops up in the radar."

"Mesa isa yous informer. What mesa hears and sees, hesa tells yous M'lady."

The woman nodded, thanking her ally. She pulled her hood up and walked out into the rain again.

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Notes:

Heck, this was a monster of a chapter! I'm at a point where I'm starting to mix in other Star Wars media to supplement the Mandalorian-verse. I'm a big Star Wars nerd and regularly read the comics and books - canon and legends! If you don't want to be spoiled about certain events in the animated shows/comics/books, I'll always include a chapter note at the beginning about a particular scene.

I also gave myself a headache writing for my Gungan OC. :^D

/ SPOILERS for Star Wars: Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith (2017) comic /

This chapter mentioned an Iktotchi woman. She's an OC I made up along with her backstory but her son is the real deal! I made her be the mom of Ferren Barr, a padawan that escaped Order 66 and used his precognitive abilities to foresee the Mon Calamari's role in the Rebellion against the Empire. He was a bit of a dick at how he handled that though. Anything I used to describe the Iktotchi's was derived from its article on Wookieepedia.

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Thank you so much to everyone that favorited and followed! A special thanks go out to BaconBabe and LoveFiction2019 for leaving reviews in Ch 1. :D

Toss a review to your writer, oh readers of plenty!