"Hey."
"Hey."
"Are you sure you're doing alright?"
"Hm?" she asked. "Oh, yeah. Just a bit tired is all."
"You should try and get some rest."
"If I had a credit every time someone told me that, you'd never have to do another bounty job," she quipped. "I'm fine. How far out from Sorgan are we?"
"A few hours."
"Great."
It had been a few hours since the Mandalorian had come and picked up Doc. She had barely exchanged cordial greetings with everyone before she had crawled into the sleeping chamber for some rest. None came as visions haunted her dreams and pushed her back into the co-pilot seat.
They had gone over the plan a few times. The Mandalorian had shown the hologram of Greef Karga, both of them instantly knowing it was a trap. They had agreed they would have one chance to get the bounty Guild off their backs. But they would need more firepower.
The Mandalorian swiveled around in his chair to look at her. She tapped her finger impatiently on the arm of her chair, waiting for him to say it.
"Doc," he began. "Just go to bed. You look like you haven't slept since Sorgan."
"Gee, thanks."
"I'm being serious. When was the last time you smoked?"
It was difficult for Doc to think with all the chatter going on in the back of her head. "I don't know? I ran out of stuff when we got to Sorgan. Just never got back into it after we left."
The Mandalorian reached over for a compartment near his station. He pulled out a medkit and shuffled around the contents before procuring a small, blue pill.
"A Thewal pill?" asked Doc. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not going through withdrawal symptoms. It's been too long."
"Just take it," he said. "If nothing else, it'll help you sleep."
Doc eyed him before placing the pill in her mouth. She crunched it between her teeth and swallowed. Her eyes turned to the window and she watched the stars whiz by at light speed. She felt her eyelids grow heavy and begin to droop as her body relaxed on its own. The Mandalorian draped his cloak over her and sat back down. It was the first dreamless sleep Doc had had in weeks.
"Hey." A gentle hand stirred her awake. Doc let out a big yawn as the image of the Mandalorian focused. "We're here."
"Already?" she asked with another yawn. She could hear the child and Nala scurrying around in the cargo hold. She pushed herself out of her chair and lazily sauntered down the ladder to where the Mandalorian was waiting.
"Good morning," he said. She gave him a sideways smile as she hit the button to the door.
"Think Cara's been keeping busy?"
"Wouldn't surprise me."
Keeping busy she had. When they arrived at the bar on Sorgan, Cara was knee-deep in a fighting tournament, bobbing and weaving from her opponent's hits. It wasn't until she smashed him to the ground and got him in a chokehold that the thin energy beam connecting them disconnected. Cara held her hands up in victory as the crowd cheered her own. One by one, the participants paid their bets.
"Hell of a fight," said Doc. "You're gonna have to teach me some of those moves."
Cara grinned. "What brings the lot of you back out here?"
"We're here to offer you a job," said the Mandalorian.
They all gathered around a table to talk logistics. Cara seemed unconvinced.
"I'm not in the business of beating up ex-warlords," she said.
"This isn't some ordinary warlord," said the Mandalorian. "He's Empire."
The look in Cara's eye twisted from doubt to anger. "I'm in."
Just as soon as they had come to Sorgan, they left. She had hoped they would have time to say hello to the village, but she knew better than to ask. Doc stayed down on the floor to feed the child as Cara and the Mandalorian shopped around his weapons supply.
"Pick one," he said, opening the cabinet to his blaster and explosive supply. Cara's eyes lit up as she picked up weapons Doc had never even seen before.
"Do you even trust this contact?" Cara asked, checking out the barrel of a compact blaster.
"Nope. That's why I'm bringing you two along," said the Mandalorian.
"Doc, do you even fight?"
"I know how to if that's what you're asking," said Doc. "I'll be the first to admit I'm a little rusty, but I know which end of the blaster I'd rather not be on."
Doc went and placed the child up in the cockpit. She climbed up and took the pilot's seat and began checking ship diagnostics. The child teetered around, eavesdropping on the conversation below.
"And you really want to bring the kid back to that place?"
"Not particularly," Doc heard the Mandalorian say. "But they won't stop sending hunters after him if we don't stop them. The kid can never be safe with him alive."
Doc got up to work on a panel in the back corner. She tinkered with the circuits when the ship began to shake and jolt her around, nearly sending her face-first into the circuit board.
"What the – hey!" Doc scrambled over and pulled the kid off the joy on and placed him in his carrier. She called down below. "You guys alright down there?"
"Yeah. What's going on?" asked Cara.
"I think we need a more full-time babysitter," said Doc, poking her head down into the hold. "I can't watch him and fix up the ship. The hell did you get up to while I was gone, Mando?"
"Got anyone you can trust?" asked Cara.
Doc and the Mandalorian exchanged the briefest of glances before it was decided. Doc went up to the control panel and typed in the coordinates to Arvala-7. The ship jumped to hyperspace with a low hum.
Arvala-7 was no more than a detour on the way to Nevarro. Doc was grateful to be able to see the old man again, though she hadn't expected it to be so soon. Nala pounced up and joined her in the cockpit. She laid her head on Doc's lap and the woman pet her back.
"Funny how it all started with this planet, isn't it?" said Doc, the sleepy red rock coming into view as the starts resumed their normal look. "It'd be nice to give the old man a proper visit once this is all over. I read about this new tea from the inner rim I think he might like to try."
Nala's tail wagged, smacking the co-pilot seat back and forth. She barked, her body buzzing with electricity.
"Yeah, I know," said Doc with a smile.
The ship landed near the vapor farm, small plums of sand being sprayed about as the engines rolled to a halt. The sun had begun to set as another day drifted away. They left the child on the ship, fast asleep in the sleeping bunk.
Sand filled their boots once again as the old Ugnaught allowed them into his home. Cara eyed everything skeptically as they crammed into the back corner. The wall on Doc's left was scratchy and irritated her skin even through her shawl, and the Mandalorian's armor stabbed her in the shoulder. She wasn't sure which one was more uncomfortable. She tried to shift her torso so it could fit more comfortably, but it meant having to move her arm up and behind the head of the Mandalorian.
"It's too ugly to be from the gene farms," said Kuiil as they discussed the child's origin. "This one, on the other hand," he said motioning to Cara, "looks like she was farmed on the Cytocaves of Nora."
"This is Cara Dune. She was a Shock Trooper," explained the Mandalorian.
"You were a Dropper?" asked Kuiil.
"Did you serve?" asked Cara, voice full of optimism to be sitting with a fellow soldier. Doc eyed her, knowing what Kuiil's response would be.
"On the other side, I'm afraid. But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt and now I serve no one but myself."
Doc saw the trust fade from Cara's eyes like the setting sun. A figure emerged in the entrance, parting the draped red curtain.
"Would anyone like any tea?" The Mandalorian and Cara were already up, blasters aimed and pointed straight at the IG-11 unit's head. Doc remained seated and quiet, Nala not even disturbed enough to wake up at her feet. The IG-11 unit carried a tray with teacups and a pot.
"Please, lower your blasters!" pleaded Kuiil. "He will not harm you!"
"This thing," seethed the Mandalorian, "is programmed to kill the baby."
"Not anymore," said Kuiil. "I found it in the wake of your destruction. I found it lying where it fell, devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remained of its neural harness. Reconstruction was quite difficult, but not impossible. It had to learn everything from scratch. Walking, speaking, learning. I spent day after day reinforcing its development with patience and affirmation. It developed a personality as its experiences grew."
"Is it still a hunter?"
"No, but it will protect." Doc stood and put a gentle hand on the Mandalorian's extended blaster. She could only look where her eyes thought the Mandalorian's were, but he eventually conceded and lowered his weapon. He sat back down, watching every move of the droid.
Doc had never seen an IG unit. She had never run in the circles that would have foretold their paths crossing. It was slender with a cone head that spun and eyed everyone in the room simultaneously.
"Tea?" it offered.
Cara and Doc both took a cup and sat back down.
"Can I speak with you outside?" asked the Mandalorian to Kuiil. The old Ugnaught grunted in acknowledgment and the two of them disappeared into the sandy wasteland.
"IG," began Doc as soon as she thought the Mandalorian was out of earshot. "How are you liking the desert so far?"
His viewfinder swiveled between Doc and Cara. "It is sandy."
"Quite the observation," quipped Cara.
"It is sandy," agreed Doc. "How does Kuiil seem to like it?"
"He does not seem to mind," said IG-11. "Would you like more sugar in your tea? You have barely consumed it."
"Oh, please," said Doc. "Try not to take what Mando says personally, alright? He's just got a thing against droids is all."
"I am incapable of taking anything personally," said IG-11. "I am a droid."
"Right," said Doc. She watched IG-11 get up from his spot and take their empty cups and pots over to the sink.
The Mandalorian came through the entrance, nearly knocking into the IG-11 unit. "We're leaving once we have the blurrg loaded."
"Come on, Nala," said Doc. The dog sprang into action and clung to her side. Doc stopped. "I'm sorry, did you say the blurrg?"
"He had spoken."
"What are blurrg?" asked Cara.
"Oh, you'll see."
They spent the next hour loading weapons and cargo into the Razor Crest. It was difficult at first to convince the blurrg to willingly enter the confines of the ship, but they begrudgingly obliged. Doc helped Kuiil rope them off into their own pens.
"Say, old man," said Doc, "when this is all over, I've got a new tea recipe to teach you. I picked it up on Sorgan from one of the vendors."
"I would be honored to share tea with you once more," said Kuiil. They sat in the cargo hold while the Mandalorian and Cara talked in the cockpit, chatting about everything that had happened since their last meeting. Nala watched as the Child interacted with the blurrg. IG-11 prepared food in the corner.
"You seem different," said Kuiil. "As though something has changed inside you."
Doc scoffed. "Only my sleeping patterns."
"No, no, it is deeper than that. You seem more content. Yes, content. But still not satisfied."
Doc glanced down at her hands. She traced the tattoos that covered her left hand and exposed forearm. A part of her identity felt reclaimed when she woke up today, but everything still felt void. Incomplete.
"I've been running away from something for a very long time," she admitted. She knew whatever she said to Kuiil would be taken to the grave. She trusted him like he was her own family. "I think it's just starting to run faster."
"Or perhaps you have stopped running," said Kuiil. "You are coming to terms with what is and cannot be changed."
The Mandalorian and Cara coming down the ladder stopped their conversation. Doc thanked him for the wisdom before getting up. The Mandalorian went over and picked up the child and put him in his container before sitting down at a crate across from Cara. Doc came and sat in the fourth seat and leaned on the table.
"And then we used to have these competitions of strength," explained Cara, going into detail about some conversation she and the Mandalorian were having earlier. "We used to hold down these trees and who's snapped first won."
"Did you ever win?" asked the Mandalorian. Cara laughed.
"Of course I did."
"I'd pay money to see the two of you brawl it out," said Doc, motioning between the others.
"How much are you willing to pay up?" asked the Mandalorian, unyielding gaze fixated on Doc. She smirked and reached into her side pocket and pulled out fifty credits. The Mandalorian reached into his own pocket without breaking his gaze and pulled out another fifty. Cara dumped her share into the pile.
"How do you wanna settle this, big guy?" she asked with a piqued eyebrow.
"Old fashioned arm wrestling," he said, getting his elbow ready on the table. Cara smirked and matched his stance. They gripped each other's arms and flexed with all their might. Doc couldn't help but laugh as Cara's face squinted in determination.
"I got you, Mando," she managed out, breathing heavily.
"Care to double the bet?" he challenged back.
Doc felt a tug at the back of her mind. It was... familiar. Like energy focusing around one area. But it didn't feel right. It felt hateful and full of vengeance. The smile dripped away from her face as she watched Cara's mouth contort into a frown as she grasped at her throat. Doc's eyes immediately darted to the child.
"No! No, no! Stop!" she cried, lunging across the table and trying to disturb the child's stream of consciousness. The Mandalorian caught on the moment after she did.
"We're friends, we're friends!" he said. "Cara is my friend!"
"That is not okay!" choked Cara, voice raspy and gasping for air. She pointed an accusatory finger at the child. Doc took a step back as Kuiil came forward.
"Hmm... very curious," he said, stroking his facial hair.
"Curious? It almost killed me!"
"The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense," said Kuiil.
"What is it?" asked the Mandalorian, who had since taken a step back himself. The child looked up at each of them, unsure of what was going on before his eyes fixated on Doc.
"What it is, I don't know. But what it does, this I've heard rumors of."
"What? When you worked for the Empire?" seethed Cara.
"Cara," warned Doc.
"You've trusted this Imp more than you've ever trusted me," Cara threw at Doc. "He was one of them."
"I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude," defended Kuiil. "I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve."
The Mandalorian stepped in, feeling the tension in the room. "Tell you what, I could really use your craftwork right now. Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?"
"I shall fabricate a better one," said Kuiil. "Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands."
Everyone went to separate corners of the ship. IG-11 was still working on food preparations, though by the smell he was nearly finished. Kuiil worked on the child's new carrier. The Mandalorian and Cara disappeared back into the cockpit, leaving Doc, Nala, and the child all to their own corner of the ship next to the blurrgs. IG-11 approached them.
"Second meal is prepared and ready," it said, dishing out a bowl for them all. Kuiil didn't eat, mumbling something about crafts work. Doc ate hers as Cara came down.
"Where's Mando?" she asked. Cara nodded back up in the cockpit. Doc finished the rest of her bowl and took the Mandalorian's bowl of food in her arm as she climbed up.
"You need to eat," she said, putting the bowl on the console in front of him. "It may be your last chance for a while. And don't pretend like you're doing important things right now – I already ran those diagnostics before we left Arvala-7."
"I have a bad feeling about all of this," he admitted. Doc took the seat next to him and leaned her elbows on her knees as she glanced up.
"Yeah, me too," she said. "But we have a plan. And a backup."
"I still don't like the idea of you hanging behind the rest of us," he said. "It's too exposed."
"We've gone over this a dozen times, Mando," said Doc. "The Guild doesn't even know I'm coming. And since you're not willing to let IG come with us, it's the only ace card we have. If something happens to one of you, I can swoop in and they won't even know what hit them. Besides, I won't be completely alone. I have Nala and she won't let anything happen to us. Speaking of which, give me your arm."
The Mandalorian handed over his wrist and Doc inserted a chip on the side of his panel.
"This is to monitor your vitals. I'm going to give one to Kuiil and Cara. I have a reader on this band here," she said, motioning to a bracelet on her arm, "and it'll tell me if something happens. Now, eat. Rest. Jerk off. I don't know, do whatever you need to do to be ready, but that bowl better be empty the next time I see it."
Doc started to climb down the ladder and grabbed the hatch above her head. Just before she closed it, the Mandalorian interjected.
"Are you telling me what to do now?" he asked with a small chuckle.
"Well, I am your doctor." She smirked and closed the hatch above her.