"Baba!"
"Weoow!"
"Baba!"
The child looked up at Doc with big brown eyes, unsure of what the message was supposed to be. They had been floating for a day now. Based on the Mandalorian's calculations, they were still a few hours out before the planet would come into view. Doc was seated on the floor, Nala's head resting on her lap. She had her back against the wall of the Razor Crest and legs sprawled out in front of her. The child teetered between her legs and the Mandalorian, who was watching from the pilot seat.
"I don't think he's going to say it," said the Mandalorian, reading his arm on the armrest and his head on his hand.
"Shush," said Doc with a side-eye. "Baba, little one. Baba!"
The child just reached up to her with open arms and giggles. Doc beamed down at him with a kind smile.
"Baba!"
"Baaaaahhh!"
"See?!" said Doc, grinning at the Mandalorian in victory. "I told you he could do it."
"I'd hardly call that a word," he laughed. Their frog company croaked in the corner. "Even she agrees."
"It's a least a step in the right direction," said Doc, letting the child play around with her hands. "He hasn't spoken anything more than babble since I've met him."
"Do you think he's, uh, developing properly?"
"It's hard to say," said Doc. "I don't really have a point of reference. Maybe? But at this rate, I'll probably be 80 by the time he can say complete sentences."
"I'll probably be dead."
"Oh, you're not that old," said Doc. She gave him a second look and a moment of hesitation. "Are you that old?"
He tilted his head at her. "What do you think?"
"I always pegged you for somewhere around your 30s," she said. "Probably mid-30s. Just young enough to still be able to move, but old enough to where you've got... experience."
"Pretty close," he admitted, leaning back in the pilot chair. Doc let the child toddle around the chamber, eventually falling on Nala's back. The hound stirred only for a moment before resuming her resting position on Doc's leg.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head into the ship, not minding the jutting contours of the wall. It was too boring to sleep. They had already slept in turns and now all there was left to do was wait.
A buzz somewhere in the cabin maintained a permanent place in the back of her head, stirring a small headache. She opened her eyes and gazed up at the Mandalorian who was typing on the key panel. Since Tatooine, she had felt nothing of the world around her. It was like this cold abyss that no longer welcomed her into its clutches. Perhaps it had been a fluke. Perhaps Tatooine had been a cold trick of the past, one that was merely an echo of her former self. The haze was gone, but so was the clarity. Her mind was stuck in an endless maze of limbo.
She came up and sat next to the Mandalorian in the co-pilot seat, elbows leaning against the panel. A small blue moon began to come into view, growing and filling out the window.
"Say," she said. He looked over at her, stopping his obsession with the panel. "Would you want to come with me?"
"Come with you?"
"When I get my bantha farm," she said, eyes locked on the approaching moon. "I know it's not the glamorous life of the Mandalorian bounty hunter, but it'd still be a nice life."
He was quiet for a moment. "I don't know if I could do that."
Her eyes faltered down to the console and then back up. Her voice betrayed her disappointment, and she did not attempt to cover it up. "I know. Just thought I'd ask."
The rest of the trip was silent. As they got ready for the descent, Doc took the child and Nala into her lap and gripped onto them. The frog woman strapped herself into the other seat, ready for whatever was to come.
"It's going to be a rough landing," said the Mandalorian. "Try to hold onto something."
It was less of a landing and more of a steady falling. They had just made it into the atmosphere when the Crest began free falling. Every warning sign the Crest was capable of came on. The cabin began to heat up from the atmosphere.
Their fuel tank was dangerously low, as was the capacity of the engines. The Mandalorian waited until the last possible moment before turning on the reverse thrusters, jolting everyone in the cabin. They hovered just above the landing platform before the right engine blew out. Doc cursed out loud, a nagging feeling telling her it would not have been able to withstand the force. The Crest toppled over into the sea, filling fast with water. Doc quickly unbuckled herself from the seat and grabbed onto Nala and the child after helping the Mandalorian pull the cockpit door open. Below, the Crest was filling with water quickly, the gurgling sounds drowning out all others.
"Take the kid," ordered Doc to the Mandalorian. "I have to wait until you're out of the bay to get Nala out."
"I don't think -"
"No time to argue," said Doc, pushing the Mandalorian and the frog woman into the waters below. She watched them struggle for a moment before disappearing into the dark waters, only to reemerge in the viewfinder a few moments later. Doc held Nala on her shoulders until she saw them safely climb onto the platform, the water already rising to her boots.
"You're gonna hate this," said Doc to Nala. She carried the pup under her arm as she swam through the Razor Crest, long bolts of electricity jutting off the hound and hitting the Crest and Doc alike. Doc felt the twinge in her stomach - the pain that came along with taking that much electricity - but at least it lit her way as she swam down through the hull's hole and up to the surface. Nala squirmed under her grip, but Doc kept it steadfast, knowing she was a better and faster swimmer than the dog.
She broke through the surface and took a big gulp of air. She could feel the pull of the sinking ship trying to drag them back down, but Doc fought against the current. She pulled them over to the dock and gripped onto the wooden frame. The Mandalorian bent over the edge to help her, but Doc shooed his hand away.
"Don't," she warned. "Or you'll get about three thousand volts going through your body."
She adjusted her grip so her hand was on the edge of the dock and pulled upwards, letting Nala scramble onto the shore. She clasped her other hand on the side and heaved herself up, the weight of the water trying to pull her back down below. She sat on the edge of the dock and watched the blinking lights of the Razor Crest gently float down below to the depths of the ocean.
That was going to be a hard fix.
She could still feel the electricity pulsating inside her. A few dead fish rising to the surface, stunned, told Doc that the waters had definitely felt Nala's energy, too. Doc rang her coat out over the ocean, not particularly pleased to be soaking wet. She scrambled up to her feet and took off her boot, a waterfall pouring out of it. Her hair had come undone from its braid and fell in wet waves down her back. The electricity in her stomach began to settle.
"That's going to be expensive to fish out," said Doc as the Mandalorian came and stood beside her. They both stared into the depths of the ocean before Doc's stomach growled loudly. "Let's go find something to eat. I bet the kid's starving, too."
They walked along the docks with the frog woman who was still looking for her husband. They spotted him just outside a small tavern, and even Doc's heart warmed a bit at the sight of them embracing after so much time apart. The husband directed them to the tavern, where he loosely said someone with information on the Mandalorians in the area would be waiting. They thanked him and took their leave. Doc elbowed the Mandalorian playfully in the side.
"You know, if this whole bounty hunter thing doesn't work out, you should really get into a social service job," she joked. She held her hand out as though she were reading it on a poster. "The Mandalorian: The fiercest family reunification service this side of the galaxy."
"I'll put it on the resume," he said, a small chuckle finding its way through the modulator. As they walked into the establishment, a Mon Calamari waiter greeted them.
"Have a seat over there, folks," he said, motioning to an empty chair. They walked over, dripping all over the floor. "What can I get you all?"
"Nothing for me," said the Mandalorian. "But a bowl of chowder for my friends."
"These seats are scarce, buddy. Everyone seated needs to eat," said the waiter, pulling down a chowder dispenser from overhead.
"I can buy something else," began the Mandalorian. "Information. Have you seen others that look like me?"
The waiter paused for a moment, his big hello eyes looking around the place before falling back on the Mandalorian. "Others with beskar have been through here."
"Who can take me to them?"
"I know someone who might help." The waiter disappeared to somewhere else in the place. A squid reached out of the child's bowl and latched onto his face, causing him to panic and yelp. The Mandalorian reached over with his knife and poked the squid, causing it to detach and fall back into the bowl.
"Don't play with your food," he said. Doc couldn't help but snicker into her own bowl. He turned to look at her. "Something funny?"
"Nothing, nothing," she said, beginning to take off the wet layers. She pulled off her coat and gloves and rolled her sleeves up to her elbow, revealing the long train of tattoos on her left arm. She rested her head into her hand and looked at the Mandalorian. "Vying for Father of Year this rotation?"
"He's not our kid. You know this is only a short-term arrangement," said the Mandalorian. Doc looked back at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I never said he was our kid," she quipped with a wink. The Mandalorian immediately adverted his gaze, grateful for the distraction of the waiter returning with an interested party. The other man was a Quarren, with squid-like tendrils dripping down from his chin. They flapped when he spoke.
"I can bring you to 'em," he said. "They're only a few hours' sail away. It'll cost ya, though."
"Did you say 'sail'?" asked Doc, uneasy.
"Aye. We set off in an hour. Dock H. Be there or we leave without ya." The Quarren disappeared out the door of the tavern and into the streets.
"I'm not getting on that ship," she said, slurping down some chowder. It tasted rich and creamy, but the meat was old. "You're gonna have to do this one on your own."
"What? Why?"
"The Crest needs a lot of work," Doc said, trying to come up with any excuse she could. "Gotta make sure the Mon Calamaris don't completely swindle you, ya know? And that right engine, let me tell you -"
"You're rambling."
"I'm not rambling," she defended. "The ship needs me."
"You're afraid of boats, aren't you?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," she clarified before her face twisted in disgust. "I just suffer from an acute case of seasickness anytime I step on them. I'd be absolutely useless to you."
"Suit yourself," said the Mandalorian. "Should he stay with you, then?"
Doc shook her head. "I won't be able to keep an eye on him while I'm working on the ship. And I don't particularly care for the idea of him hanging around the dock workers. I think it's best you take him."
"I'll leave you with some credits," said the Mandalorian. "If you have time, stock up on food for the Crest."
"Sounds good," said Doc, gathering up her things. "I'll focus on the big stuff first. You know how to contact me if you need me."
Doc took her leave, heading back to the dock where they had lifted the Crest out of the water. The Mandalorian had taken care of all the arrangements and Doc could only gawk at all the work that needed to be done as the Crest stood there, dripping free of water. The Mon Calamari mechanic on deck came over to her.
"The water damage will be extra," he said. Doc sneered at him and got to work.
Even with the tools and crew available on the dock, it was difficult work. The water had seeped into the panels, completely ruining some of the insulation work that was used to keep wires protected. Everything was completely drenched, just like Doc herself.
She started in the big repairs and let the Mon Calamari take care of the inner workings. She didn't trust them to completely seal the hull properly, and it wasn't something she would leave up to chance. A nearby junker gave her the panels she needed - for a cost. He took nearly all of her credits, citing popular demand for the parts.
On her way back to the ship with a load of panels, Doc thought she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye, but when she glanced over, they were gone. She scanned the crowd, but there was no sight of anyone. She brushed it off as part of her imagination and carried on, knowing how much work she still had left to do.
With goggles and face-covering donned, Doc began wielding the panels into place, discarding any that were too bent to be of use to her. It took hours of labor-intensive work to get it to the point where she was confident the ship wouldn't burst apart once they left the atmosphere. The sun had begun to set. The other workers set off for the night, but Doc remained atop the crest, trying to figure out the power failure that had caused them to roll into the waters. She was so focused on her work she didn't hear anyone approach the ship.
"Allara."
Doc jumped, nearly falling off the ship in the process. She kept her balance and swiveled her head to look at the Mandalorian standing below her.
"Stars, Mando," she said, resuming her wiring job. "I'm guessing you didn't find the other Mandalorians?"
"It was a setup."
"A setup?" repeated Doc, head snapping back to his direction. "Are you alright? Is the kid alright?"
"We're fine," he said. "Let's just go get something to eat and get off this planet."
Doc dropped to the docks and left her tools next to a sleeping Nala who didn't stir to follow them. She quickly jogged to catch up with the Mandalorian, who was in a more sour mood than usual.
"Did, uh, something else happen out there?"
"There were more pretenders," he said bitterly.
"Pretenders? I don't understand -"
He swiveled around to face her. Doc took a step back to put space between them, back hitting a crate.
"They didn't cover their faces," he said darkly. "They weren't real Mandalorians."
Doc gulped before her face hardened and her back straightened. "I think there's something I should tell you. Just promise you're not going to shoot me."
"I'm not going to shoot you," he sighed, taking a step back. "What is it?"
"The Mandalorians I used to know," she said slowly. "Well, you're actually the first Mandalorian I've met who doesn't take off their helmet."
He took a step back, the gait slightly faltering.
"She called me a child of the Watch," he said, looking down at the ground.
"The Watch," reiterated Doc, mind already darting to a thousand places. "Who is 'she'?"
A blaster bolt ricocheted off the Mandalorian's shoulder pauldron, hitting just inches away from Doc's head. Their heads snapped in the direction of the fire. Doc stepped forward just in time for another shot to fly through the space she had been standing. The Mandalorian stepped between Doc and their perpetrator, acting as a human shield.
A Quarren stood before them, a different one than the one who had met them in the restaurant earlier that day. His blaster was still raised, pointed directly off him. Doc could see in the limited light of these streetlamps that they were being surrounded by others of the species, all with blasters fixated on them.
"You... you killed my brother," he said, eyes deadlocked on the Mandalorian. "And now I'm gonna kill your girlfriend."
Three figures blasted down from the sky behind them. Doc wanted to turn back to look, but she didn't want to lose her gaze on the Quarren.
"He didn't kill your brother," one said. Doc recognized the voice immediately. "I did."
The world erupted into a barrage of blaster fire. It was over so quickly that Doc and the Mandalorian did not have a chance to react to what was happening. He had his weapon drawn, but Doc didn't recall seeing him fire. Doc turned to look at their saviors. Three Mandalorians were standing before them, all clad in blue armor. But only one caught Doc's attention.
"Bo-Katan."
"You know her?" asked the Mandalorian.
"There was a time I'd even go so far as to call her a comrade," said Bo-Katan, stepping forward. Doc crossed her arms over her chest.
"Comrades may be taking it a little far," she said. "Temporary allies is more suited, I believe, to what we were."
"Have to admit, Doc, I'm a little confused to see you back in the heat of things," said Bo-Katan. "Thought you retired."
"I am. I'm just a simple mechanic now," said Doc. She glanced around at the bodies the Mandalorians had laid siege to.
"Can we buy you two a drink?" asked Bo-Katan, already walking off towards a cantina. Her two comrades followed in suit with Doc, the Mandalorian, and the child trailing behind.
"Din," Doc said in hushed tones as she gently gripped onto his elbow, pulling him back from the group. She looped her arm through his and walked slowly with him, keeping their distance from the other three Mandalorians. "I need you to trust me on this one."
"They don't-"
"I know," she cut him off. "Listen, Bo-Katan and I... we go way back. She's the real deal."
She placed a hand on his back and led him into the tavern, letting it drop as they came into view of the table surrounded by Bo-Katan and her companions. Doc and the Mandalorian took seats beside one another, with Doc motioning to the barkeep to bring them over a highchair for the little one. They placed him on the other side of the Mandalorian.
"Grog for myself and my friends," ordered Bo-Katan to the bar. A serving droid brought over the drinks, placing them in front of the party. They had all removed their helmets, revealing the bright green eyes and crimson hair of Bo-Katan. She had chiseled features, high cheekbones, and a commanding figure. She was joined by two other Mandalorians, Koska Reeves and Axe Woves. Koska had tanned skin and dark hair woven intricately across her forehead. Axe had tight curly hair and a five o'clock shadow across his chin. Doc eyeballed the Grog in her cup. She swirled it around a few times before taking a sip.
"I"m curious as to what brings the mighty Bo-Katan and company to a shithole like this," said Doc.
"Trask is a black market port. They're staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet," explained Bo-Katan. "We're seizing those weapons and using them to retake our homeworld. Once we've done that, we'll seat a new Mandalore on the throne."
"Never quite understood the Mandalorian obsession with having someone on a throne. Isn't that what got you into this mess in the first place?" asked Doc darkly. Bo-Katan gave her the side-eye.
"Mandalore will rise again," she said with sternness in her voice. Her eyes were intense in their gaze. Obsessed with the notion of Mandalore being restored to its full glory.
Doc raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose you'll be the one to pull it up out of the smoldering ashes?"
"That planet is cursed. Anyone who goes there dies," said the Mandalorian. "Once the Empire knew they couldn't control it, they made sure no one else could either."
"Don't believe everything you hear. Our enemies want to separate us, but Mandalorians are stronger together," said Bo-Katan. Koska slurped down a cup of porridge on the other side of the table, eyes not leaving the Mandalorian.
"Reclaiming Mandalore is not in our plan. We are to return this child to the Jedi," said the Mandalorian. Bo-Katan looked between them, eyes falling more on Doc than him.
"If it is a Jedi you seek," she began. "I don't see why you need to look any further."
Doc kept her eyes locked on Bo-Katan. "I'm not a Jedi, Bo-Katan. And you know it."
"Clearly," said the woman, eyes sizing up Doc. Her eyes darted to the Mandalorian. "I can lead you to another of their kind. But first, we need both your help on our mission."
"Mission?"
"I don't do missions anymore," said Doc. "Besides, I don't have the gear."
Bo-Katan gave her a wicked smile. "I was hoping you would say that."
"You see that Imperial Gozanti freighter? It's being loaded with weapons as we speak," said Bo-Katan. They had moved outside to watch harbor ships be loaded. They all sat atop the Mandalorians' ship, watching the crews do their job. "According to the port's manifest, it's scheduled to depart at first light."
"If you wanna do this with four, you're gonna need the element of surprise," said the Mandalorian. Bo-Katan turned to look at him over her shoulder.
"Four?" she reiterated. "Five."
Doc did not even turn to look up at her. "No."
"The deal is you both are with us," said Bo-Katan.
"Yeah, don't be such a buzzkill, rookie," said Axe. Doc stood abruptly to match his stance.
"Who are you calling the rookie, tinhead?" she growled, getting up into his face. Bo-Katan pulled Doc back by the shoulder. Doc shrugged off her grip and jumped down from the ship.
"Keep me out of this shit," she said, walking back towards the Razor Crest. "I'm not your mercenary for hire."
The Mandalorian moved to follow her, but Bo-Katan stopped him. She procured a small box from the cockpit of their ship before following after Doc.
Doc just wanted to go work on the Razor Crest. She still had lots of work to do and could not afford to be distracted further.
"Doc!" called Bo-Katan, easily catching up and matching her pace. "Doc, stop. Listen to me."
"What the hell are you doing?" seethed Doc. She could feel her heart rate increasing, the blood rising to her head. "I'm not one of you. Leave me out of this."
"Doc," Bo-Katan said calmly. "We need you on this mission."
"Why? You're a group of Mandalorians - I'm sure you could figure it out."
"The door we need access to is only unlockable from the inside," said Bo-Katan. "We need someone to sneak on prematurely and unlock it from the inside. The easiest way to do that is through the access vents, but our armor is too loud for such stealth. Besides, you know what those weapons will be used for."
Doc thought for a moment and crossed her elbows over her chest. Deep down, she knew Bo-Katan was right. The Empire never used weapons for anything good. "I'm not really a blaster person."
"I know," smiled Bo-Katan. "That's why I brought you something you might like." Bo-Katan held out the box towards Doc. It was a decently-sized metal box with rusted corners and a locking mechanism.
"We push off in a few hours," she said. "You and your companion will have that time to prepare however you need to. We'll rendezvous with you here just before dawn."
Doc rattled the box. She could hear things clanking against one another inside.
"What is this?" she asked as Bo-Katan walked away. The woman turned back to look at her.
"A present from an old friend. She said you might need those one day. Said I would run into you first."
Bo-Katan disappeared into the darkness, leaving Doc with the box. The Mandalorian emerged a few moments later, having gone over the plan with the rest of the members.
Doc began walking back to the ship without another word, the iron box securely in her hands. She climbed up the ramp to the Razor Crest and saw Nala curled up with the child. She heard tentative footsteps behind her.
"You don't have to go," said the Mandalorian. "I know it doesn't exactly line up with your... ethics."
Doc sat down on a crate and stared down at the box in her hand.
"It's all very paradoxical, isn't it?" she asked bitterly. Her teeth were bared and her hands gripped white onto the sides of the box she was holding. "You swear an oath to preserve lives. To first do no harm. But by refusing to fight one group, you inadvertently cause harm to another."
The Mandalorian came and sat beside her and took the box from her hands, placing it in his own lap.
She kept going. "I used to not even give it a second thought. I used to go headfirst into a fight because back then it was them or us. It was about survival - preservation."
"What changed?"
She grasped the back of her neck with her hands and rested her elbows on her knees.
"The first time I went to do frontline work," said Doc. "It was about a year before the Death Star blew up. I was fresh out of school and had had my fun kicking around the galaxy, kicking some Imperial ass. I had gone with some other doctors to the planet Lothal.
"There was a patient on the field. He was a stormtrooper - had just graduated from the Imperial Academy. But he was just a kid whose helmet had been knocked off, and he was absolutely petrified of death. I tell you what - when I saw the face of the enemy - the enemy I had grown up believing was the enemy my whole life - bawling like a baby as they begged me to stay with them while they slowly bled to death, they don't really look like the bad guys anymore. Everyone believes they're right in war. But when the enemy looks like you, talks like you, feels emotion like you do - well, it's just harder for me to swallow, is all.
"But equally so," she continued. "How could I justify standing around while the Empire pillaged and destroyed towns? Cities? Entire planets?"
"So, what are you going to do?"
Her eyes dropped to the box.
"Bo-Katan is right," she said, pulling on the rusty box's locking mechanism. The lock gave way without any hesitation and dropped to the floor. Doc lifted the lid to reveal two long, shiny metal hilts. "The weapons from that shipment would be used to kill hundreds. Maybe thousands."
Doc plucked the lightsabers from the box and stood with them, weighing each in her hands. The balance was still perfect, just how she remembered. Her left-hand hilt was longer than her right, but they still weighed equally. The grips aligned perfectly with her hands - just as they had been designed to. She spun them around her wrists a bit before bringing them up to her face for a closer inspection.
"Those look like what the woman on Nevarro had," said the Mandalorian. Doc fiddled with the handles and shook them by her ear, frowning. She looked on the side of the saber and saw a small crack in the metal.
"They're useless," she said, tossing them back into the box. "There's not even a crystal in them."
"A crystal?"
"Kyber crystals," specified Doc. "They're the power supply. Without them, they're just useless pieces of metal. Someone must've taken them. They were in there the last time I had the damn things."
"Well, let's go find these crystals," said the Mandalorian.
Doc laughed suddenly and took a seat next to him again. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into the walls of the Crest.
"Maybe if you've got about twenty million credits and connections to the deep black market," she said, nodding down to the box. "Forget it. It'd be easier for us to go harvest the crystals ourselves."
"And... where would we go about doing that?"
"Listen, Mando," began Doc, "we'd have to clear the entire galaxy. The Crest is in no shape to fly that far. I've got it repaired enough so that we can limp back to, I don't know, Nevarro or somewhere with a decent repair station, but I don't think we should be pushing that far into the Unknown Regions. We don't know what's out there that might want us dead."
"But we do know what wants us dead here," he argued, picking up the lightsabers out of the box and weighing them in his hands. They looked much smaller in his hands, but Doc thought perhaps it was the bulky gloves. "And we don't have anything to fight against it."
Doc thought for a moment, eyeing the metal sticks in his hands. She knew what she had been capable of with them. The best had taught her, trained her, molded her into the person she was.
Into the fighter she was.
She reached out and gently plucked them back from his hand and rolled them between her fingers. They would even the playing field between them and the Imps. She sighed.
"First, we go to Nevarro," she said, clipping the lightsabers onto her belt. "Then we'll talk about heading to Ilum - potentially heading to Ilum."
"Ilum," repeated the Mandalorian. "That's where we'll find the crystals?"
"Yeah my mother took me there when I was very young," said Doc, looking over to the child and Nala. "We can't just leave them in the ship. Especially with the dockworkers lurking around."
"I know somewhere we can take them," he said, going over to stir them awake.
They took them to the frog woman and her husband on the outskirts of town. They apologized for the intrusion, but when the Mandalorian explained the situation, the couple seemed more than happy to oblige. They were gathered around their spawn tank, watching the progress of their eggs. Doc couldn't help but feel a little envious of their simplistic life - two creatures who were in love trying to care for their offspring.
"Looks like the lovebirds are gonna have their kid. It's kind've a nice change of pace to see, I don't know, someone happy for once," said Doc, leaning against the ladder that led up to the cockpit.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one more time, giving her a final chance to back out.
"No," she admitted. "But I'm gonna do it anyway. We need that information. If we don't get it, we have to start back at square one. We didn't go through all that bullshit just to turn back now."
"Alright, well, it's almost dawn. We should go."
"Yeah," said Doc, pulling her cloak over her head. It wasn't long enough to completely cover her lightsabers, but it would do for now. She hit the open button on the Crest and the loading door opened with a squeak.
They walked over to the section of the dock where Bo-Katan and her companions were, going over the plan once more.
"Remember, don't board the ship until just after it starts to pull away," said Bo-Katan to Doc. "Otherwise, when they scan for life forms, they'll find you."
"I know, I know," said Doc, already moving to take her position.
"And Doc?"
"What?"
"Good luck."
The sun began to crest on the horizon, reflecting off the water in a brilliant display of color. Doc parted from the Mandalorians and snuck around the crates of the harbor. She could hear the ear-shattering buzz as the massive engines beginning to fire up. The loading door was closed and a small troop of stormtroopers swarmed around the harbor, looking for any signs of trouble.
The ship was beginning to kick off. Doc had to wait until a trooper passed before she backed up and sprinted full speed, kicking off at the last moment and vaulting herself through the air. Her arms reached and grabbed onto a pipe on the bottom of the airship. She used her own momentum and swung along the bottom of the ship like they were monkey bars. When she came upon the access vent, she swung her legs up through the bars, focused, and unscrewed the bolts with the wave of her hand. She gave one last look in the directions where the Mandalorians were, shot them a salute, and disappeared into the air duct.
To say it was confined quarters would be an understatement. Doc barely fit in the vents, now seeing Bo-Katan's point of being unable to stealthily maneuver them. Doc knew she only had about a two-minute window to get the door open for them. She crawled and climbed the vents, jumping down into the hallway below only when she could not find a route to climb any up higher. When she rounded the corner, she flung herself back around as she spotted two stormtroopers guarding the door she needed to open.
Doc gave a small whistle. It caught the attention of one of the stormtroopers, who came over to investigate. As soon as he rounded the corner, Doc smashed his head into the wall, knocking him out cold. The other jogged over, but Doc already tackled him to the ground, grabbed hold of his blaster, and stunned him. She searched one of their bodies for a keycard and opened the door. Bo-Katan was already standing there, the other three Mandalorians in close pursuit.
"Always on time," she said, stepping past Doc. Doc said nothing but instead followed in behind them as the Mandalorians laid siege to the ship, securing corridor after corridor.
The Mandalorians were ruthless and shot with deadly accuracy. Wave after wave of crew members fell. Doc huffed along, stepping over dozens of corpses. The ship's crew had to resort to locking them into a room.
"Did they seriously lock us into the cargo control room?" quipped Koska. "They're bigger idiots than I thought."
She went over to the control panel and tapped in commands to open the door on the other side. Doc heard the suction and screams of the stormtroopers as they were sucked into the outside world, the pit of her stomach dropping in disgust.
The door to the cargo hold flew open. At least the mission was over with - they had their cargo. Doc and the Mandalorian hung back, quietly watching as Bo-Katan glanced over the cargo. The ship's comm was going crazy, with the operator desperately trying to reach his men in the hold.
"Come in. Do you copy? Do you copy?"
"I copy," said Bo-Katan, her eyebrows scrunching into a sinister look. "Thanks for packing up this gear so nicely. Imagine what a division of us can do when we get our hands on what's inside these shiny little boxes."
Doc didn't want to imagine. She already knew what they were capable of. She swallowed a hard knot in her throat.
"If you think you're going to escape with those weapons, you're sadly mistaken," said the voice from the other side. "Even if you manage to jettison a few of those crates, we will comb the entire area until you are hunted down and killed."
"Oh, we're not jettisoning anything. We're taking the entire ship."
"What?" growled the Mandalorian.
"Put some tea on. We'll be up in a minute." Bo-Katan clicked off the transponder.
"This is more than we signed up for," said Doc, crossing her arms over her chest.
"They have something I need if I want to regain control of Mandalore," said Bo-Katan. "Regardless, we need the ship for the battles ahead."
"You're changing the terms of the agreement," said the Mandalorian, towering over Bo-Katan. She did not back down.
"This is the Way," she said, turning her back to him. "If you want my help finding the Jedi, you'll help me take the ship."
The Mandalorian turned to look back at Doc, but her eyes were dead-locked on Bo-Katan.
"Or you could tell us now," she said, eyes narrowing. Bo-Katan stopped in her tracks. "It's not like you're the leader of Mandalore anymore."
"What did you say?" hissed Bo-Katan.
"You think I didn't notice?" began Doc. "I've got news for you Bo-Katan: the dark saber won't make you a good leader. And the next time you take my crystals and sell them for information, well, you'll be wishing you hadn't lost it in the first place."
Bo-Katan came up into Doc's face, but Doc did not flinch.
"Don't start a fight you won't be able to win," seethed Bo-Katan. She was so close Doc could see the specks of brown littered around the pupil of her eye.
"Which one of us are we talking about?"
"Do you want Ahsoka's location or not?"
Doc didn't let her expression falter, but on the inside, a whirlwind of emotions began to swivel around. She swallowed. Her eyes dropped to the floor. Bo-Katan smirked triumphantly.
"That's what I thought."
The other Mandalorians pushed past her, bumping into Doc's shoulders. She ground her teeth together and followed after them, staying out of the way of their carnage. As they walked down the main hall to the cockpit, the ship shifted under their weight, sending them all flying forward.
"They're gonna bring down the whole ship," said Doc over the roar of the Emergency alarms. They quickened their pace but a group of stormtroopers blocked their final destination. The Mandalorian had to pull Doc back against the wall as the troopers opened fire on them, pinning them in their place.
They were sitting ducks. The Mandalorian pulled a grenade off his belt and went headfirst into the fire. Doc reached out to grab him back, but a blaster bolt hit her square in the arm. She recoiled back and gripped the wound only to look on in horror as the Mandalorian took shot after shot from the blasters. The grenade was shot out of his hand and onto the floor, already armed.
Doc could hear her heart thudding in her head. It was as though no other sound existed in the universe. The Mandalorian was kneeling helplessly in the middle of the onslaught, unable to make a move in one direction or another. He couldn't die. Not here. Not for this. Doc extended her hand into the fire and pulled on the invisible strings of the universe to bend them to her will. They resisted, but eventually gave in. She felt her grip strengthen around his body and pulled him into the room they were standing in, sparks flying in his tracks as beskar hit metal.
The explosion went off only a moment later, sending everyone against the walls for support. Doc caught the Mandalorian and halted him in his tracks as she covered her face against the fire show. The stormtroopers were cleared out, leaving the door wide open for the others.
"Let's move out," said Bo-Katan, leading her two companions into the fray. They unlocked the door and began their onslaught, but the two commanders at the helm were already dead, leaving the commanding officer as the sole survivor of the crew.
"That was incredibly stupid," said Doc, helping the Mandalorian up. "I can't believe you're that stupid."
"What's more stupid? That or agreeing to come here in the first place?"
"Touché."
The ship lurched forward. Doc reached out and used the doorframe for support, nearly being crushed under the weight of the Mandalorian. They pushed their way up to the cockpit. Bo-Katan was standing over the dead body of the commanding officer, a sour look on her face.
"You've got your ship," said the Mandalorian. "Now, tell us where the Jedi is."
"Shame you two have to jet off so soon," said Bo-Katan, mostly looking at the Mandalorian. "Are you sure you don't want to join us?"
"We're sure," butted Doc.
Bo-Katan sighed. "Take the foundling to the city of Calodan on the forest planet of Corvus. There you will find Ahsoka Tano. Tell her you were sent by Bo-Katan. And thank you. Both of you. Your bravery will not be forgotten."
"I think you're mistaking bravery for necessity," said Doc. "Just make sure you don't forget what you're actually fighting for, hm?"
"This is the Way," said Bo-Katan, putting her helmet back on.
"This is the Way," echoed the Mandalorian, following Doc up to the upper levels of the ship where they had first entered the ship. Doc looked over the railing at the flying waters below before glancing to the Mandalorian.
"On second thought, maybe I could be a freedom fighter," gulped Doc. The thought of dropping down to the cold waters made her stomach turn.
"I've got you," said the Mandalorian. He reached over and scooped up Doc by her knees. "Just try not to move too much."
"I don't think this is a very good idea!" cried Doc as they blasted off from the ship. She scrambled to grip his neck, clinging for dear life onto the one thing keeping them suspended above their deaths. Watching the waves move under them was nauseating and caused Doc's head and stomach to do summersaults around each other. The wind whipped her hair and clothes back and forth, smacking her a few times around. Closing her eyes only made her nausea worse.
As the Mandalorian touched down, Doc scrambled out of his grip and made a beeline for the edge of the port. She was sure if she could see it, her skin would be green. Whatever had been leftover in her stomach from last night's dinner emptied itself into the harbor. She laid her head on her arm on the railing and dropped to her knees.
"Never," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "And I mean never do that again."
"Do you need help getting up?"
"No," said Doc, swatting away his hand. "Just leave me here to die."
"I didn't drag you across the desert for you to die here," said the Mandalorian, pulling her up by limp arms. "Besides, we need to go get the kid and Nala."
Doc groaned, her stomach still queasy. She reluctantly followed the Mandalorian, disgusted by the smells of food surrounding them. The morning was still, but vendors had begun to set up their food and goods stalls.
The frog couple's house was not far from where the Razor Crest was seated. They walked down some close-quartered alleways before stopping outside a door. On the inside were cooing and croaking sounds. The Mandalorian lightly tapped on the door with his knuckle and took a step back.
The frog husband answered and quickly ushered them inside, the warmth of their home enveloping them like a blanket. Nala's head perked up at the sight of Doc and she came trotting over, nuzzling her leg with her head. The Child, the frog woman, and her husband were all gathered around the container on the kitchen table, a small spawn swimming around with tiny legs. A small smile crossed Doc's face as the Mandalorian picked up the Child.
"Thank you for watching him. Okay, kid. Come on. It's time to go," he began, prying the Child off the container. "Let go, kid. Come on. Congratulations to you both."
The couple was too engrossed in the newest addition to their family to pay much attention to Doc or the Mandalorian. Doc lingered in the doorway for a moment before shutting the door on the new family.
She walked a pace or two behind the Mandalorian, who was preoccupied with trying to get the Child to stop pulling on his cape. The smile on Doc's face still lingered as she watched the unlikely duo interact. She came up behind the Mandalorian and gave him a light pat on the back. She had to stifle a chuckle.
Short-term arrangement, he had said to her.
Sure