"Get what you need out of the guy?" asked Doc as the Mandalorian returned to the ship. They had parked their ship on the outskirts of a small city on the planet of Mon Gazza. Doc decided it was best she didn't tag along this time, citing something about making sure the landing gears were stable. The child's pod lingered behind him, his little green eyes full of the terrors he had seen.
"We're going to Tattooine," said the Mandalorian.
"Tatooine?" she asked. "We were just on Tatooine, like, a month ago."
"Yep," he said, closing the hatch behind them as they went up the ramp. "And now we're going back."
"Be a good chance to see Peli again, I suppose," said Doc, throwing used tools back into the toolbox. Nala jumped up into the cockpit ahead of them and sat in the pilot's seat. The Mandalorian shooed her away before sitting down. "At least we're close this time. Less than a day away. I just hope we don't have to keep planet-hopping."
"Got something better you'd be doing?" he quipped. Doc stifled a small laugh.
"You know, maybe one of these days I'd like a social life," she began. "I am a respected doctor. Maybe I'll just retire to Coruscant and spend my days sipping Corellian wine off New Republic tax dollars."
He shot a glance over at her. "You'd be bored after two days."
"Not true," she pouted. "A week."
The one thing she would never get tired of was watching the stars pass by in the view window of the Razor Crest. Doc pulled out the small sewing project she had occupied herself with over the last few days - turning the dress she had bought from Atrisia into something more functional. With some minor adjustments and movement of fabric from one place to another, she would have a warmer cloak than the old shaw she had carried around for the last few years. She didn't foresee a use for a gown, but a warm cloak could make all the difference on the cold nights in the desert.
"It started as a way to practice my sutures," she had told the Mandalorian. "My sister taught me how to sew while we were still little girls. Stuck with me ever since."
"I didn't know you had a sister."
"I have two," she said, minding her work. It was difficult to see the thread against the black fabric in the dimly lit cockpit. All she had to work by was the glowing lights of the control panels. "I'm the oldest. One's still back on my homeworld. The other is somewhere off in the galaxy doing who knows what."
"You still haven't told me where you're from," he inquired more. Doc stopped her work for a moment and looked at the passing stars in the window before looking at him.
"Veria," she said.
"Veria?"
"I told you that you wouldn't have heard of it," she said, resuming her work. The needle bobbed in and out of the dark fabric, binding two sides together. "It's not charted on any of your maps. The closest planet you would know would probably be Csilla, or maybe you've even heard of the Redoubt."
"Only stories," said the Mandalorian. "Do you have more family?"
"Oh, I have a big family. Mother, father, sisters, nieces, nephews - you name it."
"Why would you leave your family behind?"
"You're asking an uncharacteristic amount of questions," said Doc, eyes leaving her work for a moment to look up at him. He darted his gaze away to the ship's dashboard. Nala stirred at Doc's feet. "There were a lot of reasons why I left. It's hard to explain. I just wanted something more. I wanted to do something I thought would matter. My mother would always tell these stories of when she was younger - of the charted territories where you could travel to a hundred different planets and never come across the same language. Where you could always find something to do. And it's not like we stopped being family when I left."
The Mandalorian was silent and didn't inquire further. Doc thought perhaps she had said something to displease him. Either way, it was said and it was true. It was a nice change of pace to tell someone the truth surrounding her world, but part of her wondered if, when the mystery was gone, the same interest would be kept.
Doc sewed the final stitches for the arms before standing up and holding it against her body. The material was lighter than she would have liked for a cloak, but she wouldn't pass the opportunity to not waste the material. She took off her shawl - all tattered and strewn as it was - and pulled her arms through the black armholes. She had managed to get the back completely covered and moved the strings that had held the dress together around to the front for easily accessible securement. It fit nicely over her loose clothing and fell just short of the top of her boots. It felt more like a long jacket than anything, particularly when she tied her belt around the top of it. Doc sat back in her seat and tried to bide the time by counting all the times she would see a red star pass through the window.
Another hour or so and the Razor Crest jumped out of hyperspace, the stars slowing into their places. The small tan planet of Tatooine came visible and they began the standard landing procedures they always did.
"I'll get the kid," said Doc, already jumping down the ladder. He was fast asleep in his small hammock still. Doc had noticed him sleeping more and more the past few days, no doubt a symptom of the events that had occurred on Nevarro. Doc had become quite adept at the back swaddle, allowing her to carry the child without sacrificing the use of her hands or forward mobility. She took her old cloak and carefully tied him around her back, his pointy green ears sticking out from behind her neck. He tried reaching and playing with her braid, giving light pulls now and again.
"Hey, hey!" cried Peli as her droids began to swarm the Razor Crest. "You know he doesn't like droids."
"May as well let them have at it. The Crest needs a good once over," said the Mandalorian, surprising both Peli and Doc.
"Ah! So he likes droids now," quipped Peli. The three DUM droids quickly swarmed the Crest and began pulling it apart. Doc watched in horror as they began pulling apart the fuel lines.
"Don't worry about that," said Peli to Doc. Her eyes lit up immediately as she saw the green ears of the child poke out from behind Doc. "Oh, thank the stars! You know, if this thing ever divides or reproduces, I will gladly pay for the offspring."
"We're here on business. We need your help," said the Mandalorian. "We've been quested to bring this one back to its kind."
"Oh, I can't help you there," said Peli. "Never seen anything like it before - and trust me, I've seen all shapes and sizes."
"We're looking for other Mandalorians," explained Doc, cringing from the pull on her hair. She gently tried to pull it back with her hand. "We were told there was one in Mos Pelgo."
Peli shifted. "Boy, I haven't heard that name in a while. It was wiped out by bandits after the fall of the Empire. It was a free for all out there. I didn't dare leave the city walls - still don't."
"Can you tell us where it used to be?" pushed the Mandalorian.
"Well, sure," said Peli. "R-5! Bring the map of Tatooine!" A red and white astromech droid rolled over slowly to where they were standing. Peli began to lose her patience. "No, take your time. Seriously. Let's go. Let's go."
The droid lit up a map of Tatooine for them all to see.
"Okay, this is a map of Tatooine before the war. Here's Mos Eisley and Mos Espa," Peli pointed to the southern region of the planet. "And up here is where Mos Pelga used to be."
"There's nothing there," said Doc, crossing her arms over her stomach.
"Well, it's there," defended Peli, as though they were doubting her claim. "Not much to speak of. It's an old mining settlement. They're gonna see that big hunk of metal long before you land."
"You still got that speeder bike?" asked the Mandalorian.
"Sure do," said Peli. "Only got the one, though. It's a little rusty, but I got it."
Doc and the Mandalorian exchanged a glance.
"We'll make do," said Doc.
"Here, I'll give you a copy of the map," said Peli, handing Doc a chip. She inserted it into her com bracelet. The Mandalorian pulled the cover off the speeder bike and sat down.
"Watch yourselves out there," Peli warned as Doc threw her leg around the bike to sit behind the Mandalorian. "Everything will try to kill you out there."
"Not much different than everything trying to kill us here," joked Doc. Nala came up beside the speeder bike and nuzzled the leg of the Mandalorian.
"Best you stay here, girl," he said, scratching her chin. "I'm counting on you to keep the droids from completely ruining the ship." Nala licked the palm of his hand before sniffing Doc and walking off.
"I swear she's starting to like you more than she likes me," said Doc. She wrapped her arm around the torso of the Mandalorian, steadying her as the speeder bike kicked off over the dunes.
If the sand wasn't so relentless in her eyes, the ride would have been enjoyable. Doc kept her head tucked down and below the body of the Mandalorian to avoid the pelting in the eyes. She kept her eyes locked on the map Peli had given them.
"It's gonna be too far for one day," she cried over the whipping of the wind. "We'll have to find somewhere to make camp for the night. There's a ridge about seven hundred clicks from here that might make a good spot."
"Then we'll stop there," he called back.
The suns chased one another across the sky to their backs, drawing their shadows long as they grew closer to the horizon. Doc had wished she had put something over the little one's ears to protect him from the blistering sun, but when she thought about it, she had never seen him with a sunburn. Perhaps the coarse skin of his species led to less skin damage.
Then she wished she had remembered to cover her neck with a cloth, remembering the last time on Arvala-7 when she had gone without protecting her skin. She reached back and touched the sensitive skin. She could feel the heat radiating off it hotter than the desert. At least this time her arms were covered.
They came up over the final ridge. The Mandalorian slowed the speeder bike to a halt as the first sun crested under the horizon. He pointed to tracks in the sand. Bantha tracks.
"Tuskens?" asked Doc. He nodded. They got off the speeder bike and surveyed their surroundings, keeping the child between them.
A glimpse of movement in the corner of Doc's eye caught her attention. Three Tuskens were standing there, just staring at them.
"Mando," she said, tilting her head in their direction. She followed behind him. She knew the hand signs, but to say she was surprised when the Mandalorian started howling and grunting would be an understatement.
"They'll let us camp with them for the night," he said, taking the child out of the sack on her back. He giggled gleefully, trying to grab at the Mandalorian's helmet.
"Got any other surprises under that armor of yours?" asked Doc, following him to the campfire the Tuskens had already setup. She took the seat next to him, eyes fixated on the banthas behind them. They snorted and gently kicked at the sand beneath their feet.
"Guess you'll just have to find out," he said. The Tuskens offered them drinks. When the Mandalorian declined, Doc took his serving out of courtesy. It was some kind of drink. It smelled like rotten eggs but tasted surprisingly decent.
She could only catch glimpses of the stories the Mandalorian and Tuskens exchanged. She knew they were discussing some kind of battle, but the linguistic nuances were lost upon her. She kept looking over at one of the banthas before tapping on the Mandalorian's shoulder.
"Think they would let me look at one?" she asked in hushed tones.
"You want to look at a bantha?"
"I want to see how their teeth compare to the banthas I saw on Alderaan," she explained. "Would you just ask for me?"
Some mumbled grunts later and the Mandalorian had an answer.
"They want to know if you... want to brush its teeth," he said. Doc's eyes lit up.
"Would I?" She said, perhaps a little louder than she intended. One of the Tuskens led her over to the row of banthas and handed her a long stick with bristles on the end of it. Doc scratched the side of the mouth where the top and bottom lips met - the spot she knew they loved - and the beast's jaw dropped open. She stuck her head inside, not particularly concerned with it closing its jaws on her head.
"Would you look at those beauties," she said, gazing at the rows of incisors. She signed to the Tusken. "How old is he? Fifty years?"
He signed back a simple yes. Doc took the brush and began digging at the teeth, starting with the back molars. Some of the teeth in its mouth were as large as her head. They were all smooth molars with no sign of dental decay insight. The bantha sighed into her touch.
The Tuskens were generous with them, more generous than Doc imagined they would have been to strangers. They offered food and the protection of a group. Doc and the Mandalorian slept side by side in a small corner of the camp, the child nestled between them.
The desert sky had peaceful streaks of reds and oranges across it. Their only company was the warm wind carrying the voices from hundreds of kilometers away. Doc could have stared up at the skies endlessly. With no city lights nearby, she could pick out the cloudiness of the galaxy as it was littered with millions of tiny, shiny dots.
"You should get to sleep," whispered the quiet, modulated voice of the Mandalorian beside her. She didn't dare tear her eyes off the sky.
"You should, too," she said just as quietly. "Din?"
"Hm?"
"You ever just want to walk away? From all of it? Retire to some quiet place and just... breathe for a second?"
He was quiet for a moment. She could feel his stare on the side of her face.
"All the time."
"I'm gonna do it one day," she decided. "When all this is over. I'm gonna buy some banthas and start a little farm somewhere."
"What if it's never over?"
"It has to be one day, right?" she asked, eyes darting over to make contact with the spaces she thought his were. She averted her eyes back to the sky, trying to put the moment into words. "You know, I didn't have a good answer the other day when you asked me about the Force."
She let her eyes drift closed and let the warm breeze envelop her body. It was a breath with the universe. "This," she tried to explain. "This is the Force. Between us -" she reached out and grabbed his hand gently, "between the kid, the Tuskens, the sands, the banthas, the stars. This is the Force. This is what it's supposed to be. Do you understand?"
There was a silent and uncomfortable pause.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I don't understand."
"Right," letting her hand falter back to the rising and falling of her own chest. "Right, of course. Sorry."
She rolled over onto her side to face away from him. She tried to pull her cloak tighter around her body as though a sudden chill had run its course and cooled any thoughts of enlightenment.
It had been nearly a decade since she had felt so connected with the universe around her. The haze had cleared over the last few weeks, leaving nothing but an aching clarity she had only ever experienced in her youth. But it wasn't enough to make him understand. How could he? How could someone who had never felt the push and pull between life and death understand what she was trying to say? She must have sounded out of it to him, as though she were completely out of her mind.
She felt a hand tentatively grip her shoulder. It was gentle, tender. More so than she thought him capable of. He didn't need to say anything further. She let her other hand come up to meet his and laced their fingertips together. She rolled over onto her back and continued to look up at the stars, their hands entwined on her stomach. She let her eyes drift closed as a shooting star passed over her vision, letting the feeling of the weight of their hands lull her to sleep.
The first sun crested over the rolling dunes early in the morning, sooner than Doc would have liked. The Tuskens were already gone, having left as silently as they came. Doc looked over and the Mandalorian was still, the child nestled into his beskar chest plate. She glanced down at their hands still entwined on her chest. She gently pried her hand free and sat up, watching the second sun rise from the sands.
If Tatooine had had trees, she might have even considered starting her bantha farm here.
She nudged the Mandalorian awake.
"We should get moving before it gets too hot," she said with a yawn. She stood up and knocked the loose sand off her arms before rolling up her sleeping mat. She took a swig out of their canteen and swished it around her mouth before swallowing, making sure to give some to the little one before she tied him onto her back. They tied their mats to the back of the speeder and disappeared into the dunes, the sands taking care of covering the traces of where they had slept that night.
Mos Pelga wasn't more than another five hundred clicks north, or at least that was where it was supposed to be. Doc kept her eyes on the horizon, looking for any indication of civilization. It wasn't until they saw the vapor poles rising from the heat waves that they had any hope of finding the place.
It was a sad, sad town. The buildings were held together with multiple rounds of plaster. Broken crates and demolished buildings were more frequent than not. A bell chimed somewhere farther into town. From what Doc could see, the technology was old and outdated, and she wondered how it even functioned anymore. But what stuck out to Doc the most were the people. They just stared at them as they rolled into town. And Doc and the Mandalorian stared back.
"Ever get the feeling you're being watched?" asked Doc as they came to a halt outside of the local cantina. They left the speeder right in front, ready to leave at any moment, before going inside.
The cantina was like every other cantina on Tatooine - old, rundown, and oddly circular in design. A Weequay bartender was mixing something at the bar top, no patrons in the establishment.
"Can I help you?" he asked, voice gruff and dry.
"I'm looking for a Mandalorian," said the Mandalorian.
"Well, we don't get many visitors in these parts," said the bartender, resuming his crushing of herbs with a mortar and pestle. "Can you describe him?"
"They would look like him," said Doc, nodding her head over to the Mandalorian. The bartender looked at her with a puzzled expression.
"You mean the Marshal?"
"The Marshal wears Mandalorian armor?" asked the Mandalorian.
The bartender looked at the entrance. "See for yourself."
They turned and looked at the silhouette who had appeared in the doorway. He certainly looked like a Mandalorian, though something still felt off. The armor was ill-fitting, as though it had been made for another. It stuck out and accentuated odd areas of the body, and she had never seen a Mandalorian helmet with a rangefinder on it before. His underclothing seemed thinner than what she would expect of a warrior, but she couldn't blame the man for something cooler for the desert suns.
Doc glanced over to gauge the Mandalorian's reaction, but he was stiff and still. He undoubtedly noticed the same things she did.
The figure approached them, a certain swagger in his walk. "What brings you strangers here?"
"We've been searching for you for many parsecs," said the Mandalorian.
"Well," said the figure, motioning for drinks from the bartender. "Now you found me. Weequay, three snorts of spotchka. Why don't the two of you join me for a drink?"
He sauntered over to a table in the back of the cantina. They started to follow him. When the man reached the table and took off his helmet, the Mandalorian stopped in his tracks. Doc turned to look back at him, unsure of why he had stopped.
"Mando?"
"I've never met a real Mandalorian," said the man. He had graying blonde hair and a beard that hugged his square jawline. "Just heard stories. Hear you're good at killing." He sent a drink sliding across the table to Doc. She caught it.
"You telling me we hauled ass all the way out here just for this to be another dead end?" said Doc, eyes square with his as she downed her spotchka.
"Sorry to disappoint you, folks," he said, eyes wandering back to the Mandalorian. "I figure you're probably none too pleased to see someone like me wearing this hardware. I suppose only one of us is walking out of here alive. But then I saw the little guy and your companion here and think maybe I pegged you wrong."
"Who are you?" asked the Mandalorian, taking a step closer.
"I'm Cobb Vanth," said the man. "Marshal of Mos Pelgo."
"Where did you get the armor?"
"Bought it off some Jawas." Cobb took another sip of his drink.
"Hand it over."
"Look, pal," began Cobb, "I'm sure you call the shots where you come from. But 'round here? I'm the one who tells folks what to do."
"Take it off," ordered the Mandalorian, hand hovering over his blaster. "Or I will."
Doc exchanged glances between the two men and took a step backward, not wanting to get caught in the crosshairs. The air hung thick with tension as they kept staring at one another, daring the other to make the other move.
"We gonna do this in front of the lady?" asked Cobb.
"She's seen worse."
"Right here, then?"
"Right here."
Doc made eye contact with the bartender and tilted her head towards the back door. He caught the message and began to slink out. Cobb Vanth stood and kicked the chair out of his way. They stared down one another some more. Doc had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the testosterone fest that was going on. There was so much tension in the room it felt as though the whole place was shaking.
The whole place was shaking.
It was enough for cups to start being knocked off shelves. Pans and pots clattered about. An earthquake? Out here?
Cobb raised his pointer finger, as though to call a temporary truce, before rushing over to the door. Doc and the Mandalorian followed him out and watched as a large, moving pile of sand made its way toward the town from the south end of the village. The mass knocked over anything that wasn't a building as it barreled its way through the center of town. A lone bantha stood at the edge of town and was suddenly engulfed by the largest worm Doc had ever seen.
"Maybe we can work something out," said Cobb when the dust had just begun to settle and the town was quiet.
"Holy shit," said Doc, who had never seen such a creature. The child whimpered against her back, only now peeking out to see what had passed them.
"That creature's been terrorizing these parts since long before Mos Pelgo was established," explained Cobb as they began to walk down the town's walkways. "Thanks to this armor, I've been able to protect this town from bandits and Sand People. They look to me to protect 'em. But a krayt dragon is too much for me to take on alone. Help me kill it, I'll give you the armor."
The Mandalorian thought for a moment. "Deal. We'll ride back to the ship, blow it out of the sand from the sky, use the bantha as bait."
"Not so fast, flyboy," said Cobb. "The ship passes above, it senses the vibrations, stays underground. But I know where it lives."
"How far?"
"Not far."
"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Doc as they walked back to their speeder bike. "Is it worth it? All this effort for some metal?"
He stopped and turned to face her. She immediately regretted her question and looked away, not needing further explanation.
They kicked off again into the desert, a trail of sand flying behind the two bikes. Cobb recounted the story of how he obtained the Mandalorian armor. Of how he had used it to drive bandits from Mos Pelgo and earn his people's freedom.
They came upon a canyon and the speeder bikes slowed to a halt. All around them came the war cries of the Tuskens as a pack of massiffs. The Mandalorian got off his bike and approached the center of the canyon. Cobb reached for his blaster, but Doc stayed his hand.
The Mandalorian began calling out in Tuskeneese, loud grunts echoing off the walls of stone that surrounded them. He slowly knelt to the ground and let one of the scaly hounds approach him. One came over to Doc and sniffed her hand before nuzzling it.
"What the hell you doin'?" asked Cobb. A group of Tuskens emerged from behind the canyon wall. "Hey, you want to tell me what's going on?"
The Mandalorian conversed with them for a few moments before turning back to his companions.
"They want to kill the krayt dragon, too," he translated. "We'll camp with them tonight. Come up with a plan."
"And just what am I supposed to do with this?" asked Cobb, messing with the same drink the Tuskens had offered to Doc the night before.
"You drink it," said Doc.
"It stinks."
"Don't be such a wuss," said Doc. "It's not as bad as it smells."
The Tuskens began hollering amongst one another.
"He says your people steal their water and now you insult them by not drinking it," said the Mandalorian. Cobb stood up in protest. "They know about Mos Pelgo. They know how many Sand People you killed."
"They raided our village," sputtered Cobb. He threw the drink to the ground. "I defended the town!"
"You better sit back down," warned Doc.
"I knew this was a bad idea," said Cobb.
The Mandalorian interjected this time. "You're agitating them."
"These monsters can't be reasoned with," continued Cobb. "They steal and pillage and rape - taking whatever they can from us."
One of the Tuskens rose to meet him, gaffi stick in hand. He was ready to attack. Cobb drew out his blaster, equally ready for a fight.
"Sit back down before I put a whole through ya!" he warned. "I'm not gonna say it again!"
The Mandalorian positioned himself between the two, trying to reason with the Tusken.
"What are you telling them?" asked Cobb.
"Same thing I'm telling you," said the Mandalorian. "If we fight amongst ourselves, the monster will kill us. Now, how do we kill it?"
The Tuskens shared glances and murmurs among themselves before laying down a pile of bones in front of them.
"They say it lives in an abandoned sarlacc pit," said the Mandalorian, translating. "They say it sleeps there."
"Lived on Tatooine my whole life," said Cobb. "There's no such thing as an abandoned sarlacc pit."
"There is if you eat the sarlacc," Doc chimed. "What are those little rocks there?" She pointed at the small pebbles the Tuskens had laid in front of the krayt dragon.
"That's us," said the Mandalorian.
"It's not to scale," said Cobb.
Doc disagreed. "I'm pretty sure it is."
"Can't be. That's too big."
The Mandalorian conversed some more with the Tuskens. "It's to scale."
"We'll need more people," said Doc, looking at their small diagram. "The ten of us wouldn't stand a chance against that thing."
More discussion. More uncertainty. The Tuskens dropped more pebbles in front of the bones, a whole army's worth.
"Now, that's more like it," said Cobb. "Where are they getting the reinforcements?"
"I volunteered your village."
The Tuskens began cheering - or at least it sounded like cheering to Doc. She could see the look of discomfort on Cobb's face as he tried to think of ways to convince his village.
It was dusk. The fire crackled hot as the Tuskens dined and chatted with one another. Doc excused herself from the group, citing the need for a walk. The child tried to totter after her, but Doc gently pushed him back in the direction of the Mandalorian.
"No, little one," she said. "I don't want to end up having to carry you back."
"May I join you?" asked Cobb. She allowed it, not necessarily opposed to the company.
They walked in silence for some time before coming up to a pile of rocks. Doc began climbing up, hands expertly gripping the stones. If there was one thing in the universe she was sure about, it was her footing skills. Climbing these rocks was no more difficult than the treetops she would navigate in her youth. As they came to the top, she took a seat atop the pile of rocks and wiped her hands on her pants. Cobb came and sat down beside her.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
"What prompts someone like you to get mixed up with someone like him?"
Doc glanced over at him.
"Are you insinuating something, Mister Vanth?" she asked, eyes narrowing. The sky just on the horizon still shown a pale blue, but the sky above began to blacken.
"Not at all," he said. "From what he said, you're his doctor? That why he keeps calling you Doc?"
"Mechanic and doctor," she clarified. "You want to know how a doctor ended up traveling with a Mandalorian."
"Seems like an odd pairing is all I've got to say. You two ever... you know?"
She gave a taut smile. "For a smart guy, Mister Vanth, you're pretty dumb."
"How do you reckon?"
"You see those Tuskens down there?" she asked, eyes darting back down to the campsite.
"Hard to miss them."
"Every single one of them wants to kill you right now," she said. "The only thing standing between you and them is him. You understand?"
"I understand alright," he said. "But there's no way my people are gonna buy into this whole plan."
"They trust you," she said. "I saw it while we were in town. They look up to you. They'll listen to what you have to say."
"I wouldn't be so sure."
"You're a lot of things, Mister Vanth," said Doc. "Dumb and reckless as you are, you're not an idiot. Besides, people tend to rally against things that threaten to eat their homes. Try to focus on that in your big speech tomorrow."
Cobb got up from his spot. "Thanks for the advice. I'll leave you alone to your thoughts, Miss... uh..."
"Just Doc," she said. "Everyone calls me Doc."
"Thank you, Doc," he said before climbing back down the rocks. It was a beautiful view up here on the rocks, with the suns casting shadows against the outline of the mesa landscape.
Allara.
Doc's eyes snapped down to the direction the voice came from, catching only the faintest of outlines of a figure before it disappeared behind the rocks.
"Hey, wait!" she cried, rushing after it. She clambered down the slope less gracefully than she had intended, eyes fixated on the place where the glowing figure had disappeared to. When she rounded the corner, she saw the figure off deeper into the canyon, disappearing behind another wall.
She sprinted after it as fast as her feet would carry her. This was dumb. Following an unknown figure deep into the gorges of an unfamiliar desert canyon. But she needed to know. She needed to know who was haunting her days.
It was a game of cat and mouse. But who was the hunter? Who was the prey?
She chased the figure deep until it led her to an opening in the canyon where a pool of water had collected and reflected the moons above. An oasis. Tall reeds grew around the water source and a blue figure sat upon a rock near the water's edge. Doc approached him tentatively, but his eyes stayed glued to the rippling water.
"Who are you?" she asked, breaking the peace of the oasis.
"You know who I am," he said. "You have all your life. Just as I have known you for all of yours."
She tried to swallow a knot that had formed deep in her throat. She couldn't deny his presence was familiar, comforting even.
"Dad?"
"Hello, Allara," he said, patting the stone beside him. She came around and sat down, still cautious about proceeding.
"Why are you here? I don't... understand. I thought you were dead."
"I'm one with the Force," he said, eyes brightening ever so slightly. "There's a difference. I'm here because I have sensed in you much turmoil over the last few years. I have watched you struggle, Allara. Struggle to find your way. Only now have you opened yourself back up to the possibilities of the Force."
She nearly snorted. "I'd hardly call it that."
"Allara," he said gently. "Why do you run from your potential?"
"The visions -"
"The visions you had as a child will only come to fruition the more you fear them," he said. "You can't run away from the future. Only towards it."
"And what if they do come true?" she asked.
"Then you will have to accept it." His eyes softened. "You already have a better understanding of what the Force should be than I ever did."
"I'm not a Jedi," she said, feeling the tears well in her eyes. "My mother tried, but I was a terrible Jedi. I was disobedient, impulsive, and arrogant."
"You were strong-willed, persistent, and fearless," he corrected. "Traits of your mother. It's why she never worked out with the Order herself."
"She wasn't a Jedi?" she asked, turning to look at him. "I thought she -"
"Oh, she was. For a time, at least," he explained. "But she left the Order just before you were born. She saw the flaws in it I failed to see. The flaws we all failed to see. You, my dear child, are on a different path than that of the Jedi."
Doc turned her gaze back to the pond. She hugged her knees close to her chest and watched the ripples of the water distort the image of the night sky.
"The child," she said. "He's like me. He's like us."
"I know," he said. "You will have to carve your own path for him. He will need your guidance, little one. As I am sure he will need yours."
"But how do I know it's the right path?"
The man stood up from the rock bench. "Trust in the Force. Trust in yourself."
"Doc!"
Doc's eyes snapped open. She was back on top of the rock. There was a feeling lingering in her gut as though she had been punched straight through. Had it all really been in her head? The suns had risen on the opposite side of the planet, giving way to a new day. She had her legs crossed and hands steadily on her knees. Despite the vision, she felt as though she was completely rested.
"We're leaving without you," called the Mandalorian from below.
"I'm coming," she said quietly, though she doubted he heard her. She slowly began climbing down, knees sore from staying in the same position all night.
"And you slept on a rock ledge.. why?" he interrogated her as they walked back to the speeder bikes.
"It's good for the back," she said. "Really helps realign everything. Now, let's go take care of that dragon, shall we?"
They set off for the town when the Tuskens were ready, traveling in a long line of banthas as the summer suns burned hot. They rolled into the town at midday, the townsfolk even more on edge as they spotted the Tuskens on the horizon. Doc, the Mandalorian, and Cobb all went ahead to curb their fears.
"They're murderers!"
"Thieves!"
"You brought them here?"
"This is going well," Doc whispered to the Mandalorian. The whole town had gathered in the cantina at the behest of Cobb. Hushed murmurs rolled amongst themselves.
"Listen, the krayt dragon has been peeling off our pack animals, and sometimes, taking our mining haul with it," said Cobb. A hush fell over the room. "It's just a matter of time b'fore it grows tired of banthas and goes after a couple of you townsfolk, or even, so help us, the school."
More murmurs erupted, but Cobb stopped them with the raising of his hand. "I'm fond of this town. The Mandalorian and good Doctor here are willing to help us slay the leviathan in exchange for returning the armor to its ancestral owners."
"Well, that's great," said one of the townspeople. The others agreed.
"There's more," began Cobb. "We can't take on the krayt alone. And the Sand People are willing to help."
"They raid our mines!"
"They're monsters!"
The Mandalorian stepped in this time. "I've seen the size of that thing. It will swallow your entire town whole when the fancy hits it."
"You're lucky Mos Pelgo isn't a sand field already," pipped Doc. "Only a matter of time before it decides it's bored with the company."
"The Dune Sea is brutal," continued the Mandalorian. "They've survived for thousands of years in these sands and they know the krayt dragon better than anyone here. They are raiders, it's true. But they also keep their word. If we are willing to leave them the carcass and its ichor, they will stand by our side in battle and vow never to raise a blaster against this town until one of you breaks the peace."
More murmurs. One townswoman stood.
"Just tell us what to do, Marshal," she said. Others rose to stand beside her and it wasn't long until the whole town had rallied to defeat the krayt dragon.
"Great," said Cobb. "Let's get to work."
The Mandalorian and Cobb were in charge of overseeing the loading of the banthas with the explosives. Doc focused on getting the components ready to hardwire them. It was an easy transition, as the explosives they used were the ones they used in the mines to clear the shafts. All Doc had to do was hardwire the control panel for a more long-distance detonation.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing!" one of the townspeople cried at a Tusken who had dropped one of the explosives on the wood porch. "Those are explosives!"
"Easy," said Cobb, cooling down his man. "It was an accident. Just move on."
The incidents between the townspeople and the Tuskens were not few and far between. Every little thing had to be argued about. Cobb struggled to keep some semblance of the peace between the two, and even then Doc could tell he was grasping at straws himself.
They set out only a few hours after they had returned from camp, with the Tuskens leading the way and the townspeople moving by hovercraft. They traversed the sands beyond the spot where they had first met with the Tuskens to the cave where the krayt dragon was known to sleep.
They began setting the fuses immediately, being sure to operate as quietly as possible to not disturb the monster prematurely. In the midst of the fray, Doc couldn't help but look up at the size of the opening of the cave where it lived. It was as large as a star destroyer both in length and height. It was hard to imagine anything that big existing somewhere as desolate as Tatooine. But when you're the bigger fish, you can have your pickings from the aquarium.
"Doc? We're all set with the detonators," said Jo, one of the townspeople. She tried to hand the master control to Doc, but she just swatted it away. She couldn't tear her eyes off the cave entrance. She could hear the hushed breaths of the dragon. Probably some of the last breaths it would take.
Maybe it thought the same about them.
"Go give it to one of them," she said, motioning to Cobb and the Mandalorian. "They'll know better what to do with it."
It took her a second before she was able to really leave the spot, only prompted by the arrival of three Tuskens where she was standing. She stayed with them, sealing her fate with theirs. She knew she would be faster than them. If all else failed, she could keep luring it out.
They began yelling and calling into the abyss, their voices bouncing off the caves. The great dragon growled from the darkness. Doc could hear the earth begin to shift under their feet. That was their cue to leave.
They took off sprinting back to the ridgeline where the other members of their party had set up camp. The Tuskens called to one another as they ran. One tripped over himself, collapsing into the ground. On the sidelines, the rest of the party began shooting grappling hooks into the sides of its face, but the dragon started to retreat into the cave.
"Get outta there!" called the Mandalorian over the comlink.
"Not yet," she said. They only had one shot at this whole thing, and she wasn't going to let it slip away. She outstretched her hands and gave it all the focus she could muster. She wouldn't be able to stop it, but she could at least pause the thing.
Feel the Force. Let go of your fears, your anxieties. The Force will guide you, be with you.
"Always."
The creature stopped. Doc's heels were dug deep into the ground, and she could feel its resistance as it tried to pull back into the cave. Her hands were outstretched, an invisible string connecting the two beings. She could feel the sweat dripping down her back as she struggled to maintain a hold.
"Shoot it," she ordered through gritted teeth to the townspeople and Tuskens beside her. Her grip on it was slipping. They began lobbing explosives and more hooks at it, trying to anger it enough to come back out.
It worked, too. As Doc felt the resistance lessen and the urge to attack increase, she let go. It nearly sent her flying back and she scrambled to regain her footing as she sprinted back to the frontlines. She took up a position behind the townsfolk, bending over and gripping her head. A seeing headache left itself in her wake.
Somewhat hit the detonator. A huge explosion erupted under the dragon. Sand and rocks went flying everywhere, pelting everyone in the eyes. But it wasn't enough. If anything, it just made it angrier.
The dragon reared its head and unleashed a roar that sent chills down Doc's spine. Not good. The townspeople caught wind of the panic and began retreating, but it was too late. The krayt dragon began spewing acid venom from its mouth, incinerating some of the townsmen and Tuskens instantly.
When it was done with the carnage, it began burrowing deep into the ground, kicking up storms of sand in its wake. Doc had to cover her eyes against the onslaught of sand and debris. She didn't have much time to think about her next move before the dragon erupted out of the side of the mountain above them. The Mandalorian and Cobb sprung into action. They would take care of it.
Doc rushed back into the scene of the carnage, trying to find what remained of people to pull back to safety.
"You two, help me grab them," she ordered two of the townsfolk to help her pull the wounded from the wreckage. One man was completely missing his legs, incinerated by the acid. A Tusken was hanging on for dear life as the lower half of his body was gone. Another woman was missing an arm.
They pulled them all the way back to the ridgeline, their screams of pain never leaving Doc's ears.
"Easy," she said, trying to calm down the man.
"What should we do?" asked the people she had tasked to help her.
"Grab as many canteens of water as you can," she ordered. "We need to dilute the venom so that it doesn't erode any more of the body."
"Am I dying?" asked the man. Doc looked down at his legs. The acid fluid was slowly eating at his legs, one inch at a time. She sniffed it. No sulfurous smell. No sweet smell. There was no smell.
"Not yet," she said. She glanced over at the Tusken. He was calling out in pain. Another Tusken came over to his side and signed something to Doc.
Death.
She knew what it meant. She was familiar enough with the Tuskens to know that he would never survive beyond today. They were a warrior culture. If she didn't do it, they would.
"I'm sorry," she said, knowing he probably didn't understand her. She took her blaster out and raised it against the Tusken's head and pulled the trigger, unable to look him in the eyes as she did it.
The other Tusken reared his head back mournfully. Doc had no time to mourn the dead but had to focus on the two still left living. Her helpers had returned with their canteens. They quickly began unscrewing bottles and pouring them over the exposed wounds.
"Take off his pants and take off her jacket," ordered Doc. She helped the woman out of the jacket and the other two took the pants off the man, careful not to touch the acid-covered clothing. "Keep rinsing those. You," she said to the girl, "keep bringing more canteens. We'll need it."
Doc glanced over to the events happening in the open. The dragon was back on their level, heading straight for the Mandalorian who was standing near the bantha with all of the explosives on it.
Whatever he was doing, Doc just had to let it happen. Not that she had much choice right now. Her focus was like a laser; precise and on-task. They could still live. They'd need a hospital, but they could live.
"Go into the speeder bike," she said to the woman as she came back with the next round of canteens. "There's a load of bacta patches in there. Grab them all. Once these are rinsed off, we can begin applying them."
They rinsed and rinsed and were nearly knocked off their feet when the second explosion hit, sending krayt dragon pieces flying everywhere. Doc shielded her patient's body, trying to protect it from further debris.
There was silence until the whole crowd erupted into a cheer. Doc glanced over and saw the Mandalorian standing there, covered in some kind of green mucus.
"That son of a bitch did it," she said to herself. The woman returned with the bacta pads. Doc began dressing the wounds, but she knew it would only be a temporary fix. The bacta pads would only do so much.
"Switch with me," she said to the man who was dressing the guy with missing legs. They swapped positions. Doc undertook the dressing procedure, knowing it would be vital to ensure no infection would get in.
"You'll need to take them to a hospital," she said while she worked. "I can only do so much out here. There's a site in Mos Eisley. Ask for Dr. Panen. Tell her Doc sent you and that she's collecting on her favor."
"Thank you," said the man, though Doc could see the tears in his eyes.
"You'll be just fine," she said. "Both of you."
She stood up from beside the two and went over to Doc and Cobb on the far side of the opening.
"I'm ready to leave," she said, emptying her pockets full of sand. Cobb had already removed his Mandalorian gear and handed it over to the both of them. Doc took it off his hands.
"This was well-earned," he said.
"It was my pleasure," said the Mandalorian.
"Pleasure?" asked Doc. "You're covered in mucus." She sniffed him and nearly gagged. "Putrid mucus."
"I hope our paths cross again," said Cobb. He looked at Doc. "And if you ever get tired of riding with this one, you know where to find me. Oh, and tell the Mandalorians I wasn't the one that broke that jetpack there."
"Take care of yourself, Mister Vanth," said Doc. "Try not to be too stupid."
"I'll try, Doc," he said. "You two watch those canyons. Crawlers like to hang out in them."
"We'll keep that in mind," said the Mandalorian. Doc gave Cobb a small two-finger salute as they buzzed off into the distance, child secured in a small side pocket on the speeder bike. The smell coming off the Mandalorian made her want to throw up.
"You're going to wash this off when we get back, right?" she asked, dipping her pointer finger into the goo. He only gave her a half look back in her direction.
Doc looked back at the slab of meat the Tuskens had given them as a parting gift.
"Think Peli will like the meat?" she called into the wind.
"I'm sure she'll like anything we bring her."
"I think Nala will like it," she said. "Then again, Nala likes anything that -"
Doc didn't have time to finish her sentence before she went flying forward over the bars of the speeder. The Mandalorian tried to reach out to her, but he missed, and Doc went flying into a rock, knocking the world out black.