Spoils of War

Episode V: Trouble

Din left his new ship shortly after sending Tala on her way. His mind lingered on his unexpected companion, imagining her using the money he'd given her to hitchhike a ride offworld. Whatever was next for her, he hoped she would be well and stay safe. He wouldn't forget her any time soon, even if he wanted to.

After passing underneath the arching stone entrance to Nevarro City, he sauntered down the familiar, dusty street, taking his time. While en route here from Wild Space, he'd made a couple of realizations.

One: he was going to get an abundance of grief from Greef about the job going wrong.

Two:

… Well, he wasn't ready to confront his second realization. So he put it out of his mind where it couldn't keep troubling him.

The cantina's small door opened and Din entered as he had so many times before. But this time, he felt every single eye on him as he made a direct path for Greef Karga, a dark-skinned man in his fifties who sported a thick mustache. Lingering at the bar alone with a drink the shade of mahogany, Karga spotted the newcomer and his expression cooled. "Well, look who it is," he greeted when Din made it over. "The Mandalorian who lost his mind." His anger leapt to life and he whisper-shouted through gritted teeth: "Thanks to your little indiscretion, the Stryker Corporation has blacklisted and defamed us, and they're undoubtedly spreading the word to their connections and allies as we speak! You stole his daughter? What were you thinking?!"

Great. Greef already knew about the whole thing. Din kept his voice low, despite the frustration flaring. He probably wasn't going to get what he was after today: another job. "The details of what happened don't concern the guild."

Wrong thing to say. Greef's eyebrows shot high before he scoffed. "Like hell it doesn't. You might bring in a lot of commission, but I'll be damned if you turn into another one of those egomaniacal chumps who can't abide by the rules. You're no Cad Bane, Mando, and you'd do well to remember it." Karga folded his arms wrathfully. "The guild was supposed to get a cut of those credits."

Din's jaw tightened. Greef talked like he'd been running the guild game for twenty years when he'd only been here for three. "I'll make it up to you," he promised. He already planned to. "Just give me some time."

Karga wasn't done. "Look, I saw her bounty puck. If a pretty face is all it takes to derail one of the guild's most promising hunters—"

Din of course understood why someone would jump to that conclusion—Tala was very beautiful—but it was impossible to stop his exasperated, resenting interjection. "It has nothing to do with the way she looks, now if we could discuss my next job—"

"So attraction seriously had nothing to do with you taking the girl with you instead of delivering?" Greef visibly doubted that and gave a bitter little laugh. "I call bantha dwang. Where is she now, anyway?"

"Wherever her feet take her," Din answered curtly. "I don't have anything to do with her. It was a one-time thing." Which was true enough, he guessed. Revelation number two flashed through his mind again and he lamented his absurd predicament.

Greef eased up, sighing. It was the sigh of someone who wasn't going to exile one of his best hunters. "Look. We've all had moments of stupidity and weakness. I could tell you stories." He studied Din's eye visor with returning severity. "But I won't have any jobs for you for the next two weeks. Think of it as a time to clear your mind and consider the impacts of your choices. Tread carefully, Mandalorian." He turned back to his drink, signaling that the reprimand was over.

It was within Din's nature to argue, to convince, and to conquer. But this was a time to leave things alone. So he did. Fighting off the sting of humiliation, he turned and left the cantina with heavy footsteps. He was even less optimistic about where he was heading next: the Tribe. Home, to the ones he'd truly let down. He had to tell them about the money he'd lost. The other thing… revelation number two… he planned to keep to himself.

A scant two minutes after Din left the cantina, two new persons entered: Romy Bolt and Tala Din.

Tala followed Romy to the bar, trying not to be too obvious as she scanned the establishment inquisitively. It was dim in here despite being the brightness of daylight outside. Tables and booths were enclosed by sandstone walls. Incense and the scent of cooking food wafted across the air, and just like Romy had said, it was pretty easy to differentiate the bounty hunters from the regular patrons.

Romy ordered two Alderaanian ales and turned to Tala with a relaxed smile. "Well, congrats on the job, newbie. I really think you'll enjoy working for Kizzo. He's scatter-brained and messy, but he knows his stuff. You'll be a master mechanic in no time."

"Doubt it," Tala joked in dubious gratitude. She was still in disbelief at the continued strokes of luck she was experiencing. She didn't quite trust it, even though she wanted to. The bartend droid waited to be paid and Romy began to shift to get her credits but Tala tried to intervene with her thousand-credit bar. "Oh no please, let me pay."

Romy put a hand up and stopped Tala from handing it over. "This time, it's on me." Covertly, she leaned closer and lowered her voice. "And word to the wise: Careful showing what you have of value around here. Nevarro is safe enough. But make no mistake. This city is filled with danger." A loud ruckus at the other end of the cantina sounded, and Romy's face showed distaste. "Speaking of."

Tala followed the noise to a small table in the back where a hulking figure she hadn't noticed before stood over a smaller one on the ground. Her surprise was difficult to hide. "Another Mandalorian?" she breathed, confusion filling her face. This Mandalorian was beefy and massive, wearing a muted blue helmet with a small infrared scope poking up on one side like a single antler. On his belt, there was a flask. He laughed raucously at whoever he'd just shoved down. Immediately, he seemed very different than the Mandalorian she knew.

Romy eyed him with distaste. "They call him Brick, and he's a menace." A dark-skinned man with a moustache went over and began to point at the door firmly, his body language and glare indicating that he was telling the Mandalorian to leave, and now. Even though the guy looked like he could crush everyone there, he complied, but not before breaking something else and yelling something about 'traitorous dogs.' Romy rolled her eyes as Brick left with all the discretion of a hurricane. She led the way to a small booth and sat at it. "No one likes him. Not even your friend Mando."

Tala's stunned attention came right back to Romy as she took a seat across from her. Din? "… You know him?" she felt like she should whisper. Did that mean he came to this planet a lot?

With a mild shrug, Romy sipped her ale. "Sure do. He's hired me a couple times to transport this or that." Keen eyes came Tala's way. "How do you know him?"

Everything slammed to a halt. The question felt dangerous, and the tone too knowing and coy. Tala shook her head. Her reply was muted and eyes faltering. She wasn't out of danger and needed to remember it. "I don't." She looked at the door where the very large man in armor had just disappeared. The mystery kept deepening, and it provided a good switch of subject too. "I thought the Mandalorian people were wiped out in the wars."

There was another shrug. Underneath Romy's cool gaze, Tala squirmed despite herself. It felt like the other woman could see straight through her. "Not the two that live here." Tala's stomach flipped, both from dread and a small sense of thrill. He lived here. That meant they'd see each other again.

A sudden newcomer bombed in: a young, very slender and tall brown-skinned man in his late thirties with a thick shock of black hair, an expressive face, and huge, bright eyes. He was dressed humbly, like someone who worked a utilitarian job. He zeroed in on Romy, launching himself into the booth beside her and not even taking notice of Tala. "There you are! I've been looking all over for my favorite smuggler!" He leaned in dramatically, keeping his gleeful voice low as Romy gave him a mildly skeptical, amused look. "I just overheard the most outrageous situation. Remember that million credit job all these washed-up blaster-happy saps were vying for? Well the Mandalorian got the job and borked it!" Tala's half-interest abruptly throttled into pure horror that only multiplied. "Apparently, the bounty he was supposed to deliver was the daughter of that crazy billionaire who creates all those weapons, right? Leo Syker or whoever. Well the Mandalorian must have liked the girl a lot, because he stole her away and didn't even take the money! The guild is pissed. The billionaire is pissed. Everyone's pissed! Except the girl I'm sure, ha! What a story!"

Feeling like she could shrink into a tiny pebble, Tala's skin was hot with dismay on multiple levels. She hid behind her ale, trying to look disinterested, when in reality, the depths of which she'd kriffed up Din's life just kept resounding. Romy took in the information with measure, giving the impression that she tolerated the blabbing but found it disinteresting overall. "What a story indeed. Very out of character for him." Her eyes came to Tala's, who swallowed thick and hard.

"I know," the guy continued, gushing practically. "He showed back up in town earlier today, alone. Which makes me think him and the girl probably hooked up then went separate ways. Can you believe? Juicy, right?" Romy nodded with dwindling patience and then indicated Tala with a nod and a glance of the eyes. The newcomer gasped then grinned an apology, a heartfelt hand on his chest. "Oh hi sorry, how rude of me!"

"Zigs Lotto, meet Tala Din," Romy introduced. "She's just joined onto Kizzo's crew."

"Oh well then hi neighbor!" Zigs was receptive, overly so, sticking a hand across the table. "I work at the Exchange, so we'll be seeing each other around."

Tala wasn't sure how to take such exuberant friendliness and put her hand into his cautiously. "… The Exchange?"

"Anything you want, we got." He shook her hand once, grinned, and began to slide out of the seat. "And speaking of, the boss is probably looking for me." With an air kiss at Romy, he set off and waved back over his shoulder at Tala. "Nice to meet you!"

Romy chuckled wearily and saluted Tala with her ale as Zigs scuttled off. "And that was the town loudmouth. He's sweet, but I don't advise ever telling him anything you need kept a secret." Her dark eyes studied Tala unnervingly and her voice softened quite tellingly. "And you have quite a few secrets, don't you?" The cantina which had felt typical and unremarkable now felt unsafe. Like a trap. Tala's heart beat hard and fast as she tried to think of some excuse to escape. Then Romy came out with it: "I saw the Mandalorian with you, and your Stryker blaster out on the landing field. Put two and two together."

Frozen, Tala's mind worked fast to understand what didn't make sense. All she could come up with was vast confusion. "And instead of turning me in or something… you decided to… help me get a job?"

Romy eyed her ale unpleasantly, swirling it lightly and watching amber bubbles churn like sea-foam. "Your father has quite the reputation around this galaxy. I know how he raised you and your sisters, or I know enough." The smuggler's eyes came to Tala's, and they seemed caring. Genuine. "Did you know there's people working to try and overthrow your family?"

Again, Tala's guard rose and mistrust compelled her to be very cautious about her answer. "Yes, actually." A barrage of things her father had forbade her from learning and doing whizzed through her mind, ending with Esha's face. Stony, Tala stared unseeingly into her untouched ale. "I hope they succeed."

Romy nodded, her eyes saddening. "I do too. And I'm sorry you have to feel that way about your flesh and blood."

Tala was too. But that's just the way it was. She eyed Romy across the table uncertainly. This could be a trap. It didn't feel like one though. Romy might be one of the allies Esha had spoken of. A skeptical, uncomfortable silence passed in which Tala awkwardly turned and concealed her blaster from the public, her sense of needing to be watchful returning full force. The galaxy was so much bigger and more complicated than she'd ever known, and even though she wasn't on Vorus or Bracca anymore, she had to remember how cutthroat things could get.

"Look," Romy said softly, leaning back over the table. "You don't have to worry about me telling anyone who you are. Keep your head down a few years. This is a good place for it. Nevarro doesn't really matter to the big bads out there, and they won't find you here, not for a while anyway. Especially if you don't poke the sarlaac."

The words and care behind the, felt genuine and authentic. Tala studied her uncertainly. Fear said not to trust. Hope said maybe she could. "Why would you help me? Who are you?"

Quiet candor accompanied a humble shrug, a thoughtful pause, and a soft laugh. "I'm… just Romy. And I was you once, or close enough. All on my own in this big old galaxy. Someone helped me out when I penniless and running. So whenever I can, I see if I can do the same for someone else." She tilted her head to the side and studied Tala with soft, caring eyes. "I want you to promise me something now."

Tala hesitated, afraid of the catch while also beginning to believe there wasn't one. "What?"

There was a deliberate pause as Romy got her words together just right. "Someday, you'll see someone who needs help like you did. You'll give it, without ever needing anything back."

A soft exhale of surprise left Tala's mouth before the answer that was easy to give. "I promise."

Meanwhile
The Covert

After pausing and taking a few minutes in thought to decide what he would say, Din made the familiar transition to the underground, ducking down the unremarkable dead-end alley and entering the sewers discreetly. Here, the maze-like grid of dark passageways was easy to get lost in, unless one knew their way. Din's footsteps followed a familiar path across metal grates and faded old stone. Once a glorious and flourishing people whose legacy demanded respect across the galaxy, Mandalorians now called the secrecy of these shabby gutters home. Manda'yaim, the magnificent homeland, was nothing but a memory.

Soon he crossed the Covert's threshold, which was at all times guarded by two. He nodded silent greeting, making his way through the dank, familiar space they had sheltered in for over a decade now. It was here that Din returned to after each job and handed over the majority of his earnings every single time. Supporting the Tribe was an honor. His honor. And this time, he had let his people down. It stung.

By the time he made it to the Armorer's workspace, Paz was already there, pacing like a restless animal. The mere sight of him curdled Din's already frail mood. "Mar'e," Paz commented sarcastically, certainly not relieved to see his fellow warrior 'at last.' As usual, he was more concerned with commenting on and listing out Din's defects.

The Armorer's greeting, however, was strong and kind. "It is good to see you, brother."

Din didn't return the sentiment—he didn't feel worthy. It was best to just get this over with. "The million credits fell through." With a blunt metal sound, he let what he'd earned from the Craz Lindarion bounty tumble onto the table. "This is four thousand."

"Osi'kyr! Four thousand!" Paz echoed, his grizzly modulated voice rising in angered dismay. "That's a whole hell of a lot less than a million! Explain!"

Din's nerves picked up. He wouldn't outright lie. So it was important not to get too specific. "I wasn't able to complete the job. That's all."

The Armorer nodded, taking the change in stride. "The four thousand will be enough for now. When can you have more?"

"Soon."

Paz gave a booming scoff and crossed his arms at Din. "When are you gonna admit the job of providing for your tribe is too big for shoulders like yours, laandur?"

Din bristled and turned to Paz squarely. "You've lost supply to lava during delivery five times now," he reminded, the old anger building easily. "You can't even transport crates right!"

Because Din was correct, Paz lost his temper. With a shout of "Shabuir!" he attacked, barreling into Din with every bit of his massive weight. The two scuffled on the floor briefly before finding their feet and brawling with fists. When Din slammed Paz up into a wall hard enough for the stone to crack and sprinkle rubble, the Armorer intervened.

"Enough," she hailed, then eyed them silently for a long beat. "You are brothers. You are bound."

Paz gave a doubtful snort but didn't continue the fight. He muttered another insult in their mother tongue, shoved Din hard, then lumbered away while Din stewed beneath his helmet and held himself back. Brothers. Brothers who had never gotten along and never would.

A Few Weeks Later
Kizzo's

Din entered the familiar hangar from the city side. Kizzo's shop ran the repair scene on Nevarro, combining on-field mechanic services with in-shop ones. His facility was humble and messy and well-worn, and his employees always changing. Sometimes he had ten workers. Sometimes none.

One side of the shop connected to the city side, and the other opened to the landing field, both via huge entrances that shut with rolling metal doors after hours. Today, Kizzo was nowhere to be seen, but underneath a huge engine banging away at it with some sort of loud sparking welding tool, a mechanic's booted feet were visible.

Din approached. "Excuse me. I need two ionic attachers." The person didn't stop working. Din tried louder. "I need two ionic attachers." Nothing happened. "Hello?" With a testy sigh, Din toed at one of the boots sticking out from under the mechanism. The person immediately startled and then scrambled up under the engine, emerging on the other side to snatch off a thick (and typically soundproof) blast-protection helmet with faceshield. A sweep of dark braided hair and an irritated face showed… a face that quickly fell when the pair had mutual recognition. She blinked owlishly, and behind his helmet, Din did the same. It was her.

There was some grease on her face, her braids were frizzed loose from what looked like long hours of work, and she wore faded blue mechanic's coveralls. A couple of different types of hydrospanners were perched in the pockets. For a moment, Din couldn't process. "… Tala?" he asked slowly, his mind too surprised for him to summon any sort of eloquence. "You… work here?" She was supposed to be halfway across the galaxy, not on his planet working in the shop he frequented!

She was not as surprised as he was, she seemed more… caught and guilty. Before she could answer, a booming call came from the direction of the office, which was close but just out of sight. "Din!"

What the…? Din watched as if in slow-motion as Tala blanched, panicked, then fumbled with her work gloves while quickly flushing pink. "One second!"

Din drifted closer; eyes narrowed hard. "… What did he just call you?" Maybe he'd misheard.

She was already shaking her head, avoiding looking anywhere near him, and trying too hard to be natural. "Call me? Uh… nothing, I don't think."

"Din!" came another call from Kizzo. This time, impossible to misunderstand.

Tala was cornered, and a flustered barrage of words that stumbled over each other began to tumble out. "Okay look, when I had to give a name, I blanked and said the first thing I thought of which w—"

"DIIIIN!"

She gestured at the continued calls, humiliated and irritated at the same time. "Hold on." She disappeared into the office to help Kizzo with whatever it was then re-appeared. With her came the pale orange three-eyed Gran, who was every bit the master mechanic you'd expect: soft around the middle, rough around the edges, and always ready to shoot the breeze.

"Mando, buddy! I see you've met the new kid." He slammed Din on the shoulder a couple times with a meaty hand in an affectionate patting. "What can I do ya for?"

Despite being very thrown off, Din managed to play it cool. "Two ionic attachers. I can't pay for another week or two though." There were many times to be thankful for the helmet and how it concealed his face, because right now he couldn't stop staring at Tala in disbelief, who had returned to stand beside the engine she was working on while she avoided looking anywhere near Din.

Kizzo nodded thoughtfully. "Putting in new weapons system, eh? Don't worry about the money, I know you're good for it." He chuckled and patted Din again, which really annoyed him. "One of my best customers, this guy right here. Get him whatever he wants, will you?" He walked by and scrubbed the top of Tala's head, which made her visible exasperation double. Kizzo left with a playful point at Din. "And you, Mando. Don't scare off the help, eh?"

For a second, Din and Tala just looked at each other. Then Tala dutifully disappeared into parts storage. She returned after a minute, meek and awkward with the parts in her arms. "Two ionic attachers." She handed them over and wet her lips, looking at him in a strange mix of uncomfortable yet hopeful. "So." She cleared her throat, visibly nervous and embarrassed and not sure what to say. "… How've you been?"

How had he been? He quite frankly didn't know what to say about any of this. A hundred potential replies flew through his mind but in the end all he could do was shake his head and leave without a word, too mindblown to react otherwise. She had stayed here and was using his name as hers. It was as if Hod Ha'ran himself, the trickster god from fables of old, was toying with Din. Toying, and winning.

A Few Days Later

The mortifying encounter with the Mandalorian stuck in Tala's mind, bothering her as the days continued to come and go. His wordless departure made her think he was angry. Or disgusted. Maybe both. If she could just explain what happened better, maybe he wouldn't hold it against her.

Before that day at Kizzo's, she'd spotted him around town a few times and he'd never spotted her back. But after that day at the shop, every time she noticed him—whether in passing on the street, or through the yawning-wide shop entrance—he noticed her back. Which of course made the resounding chagrin that much more intense and long lasting.

He hates me. The thought hurt, and she thought it every time they glimpsed each other across whatever distance. He always stared for a second or two before walking off or turning away, which shouldn't have felt devastating but it did. Tala knew it was pitiful, but she wanted to be liked by certain persons. And after what they'd been through together… after what he'd done for her… he was one of those persons.

When she'd found out he lived here, she'd pictured running into him at the market maybe, striking up a conversation, and becoming… friends, she guessed. But now that dream was fading. He thought she was some laserbrained weirdo. Using his name was the most mortifying decision she'd made in a long time, but she was stuck now. Romy had helped her falsify a chain code and ID and everything. All with the name Tala Din.

However, besides that, life on Nevarro was nothing short of wonderful. Maybe to others the bland planet and small city weren't exciting. But Tala loved the freedom here. She was just another one of the citizens, working an honest job and living simply. It was everything she'd dreamed of as a kid. Peace and quiet with no one lording above her or dictating her future. She even had a place of her own—a small hut built onto the roof of Kizzo's shop. It was very unassuming and bare, but it was hers.

She worked every hour Kizzo would let her, and in her free time, she had begun exploring the city. By now at nearly one standard month here, she'd seen the entire city on foot, kept a low profile, and spent free time learning, resting, and settling in. She'd seen Romy a few more times in passing, and Zigs too. He'd been right: the Exchange had everything anyone could need and more. While dusty, cram-packed, and generally chaotic, it offered mail services, a pawn shop, laundry devices for rent, food items, odds and ends, parts and pieces, and a tiny HoloNet café. The more days that passed, Tala decided that Nevarro wasn't lavish or excessive by any means but it had its own beauty: flowers grew in small pots throughout the city, the weather was always mild, the street market was bustling and plentiful, and children had kickball tournaments in the street almost every afternoon. Tala liked to watch those. Seeing joyful, exuberant kids felt healing and sweet. She'd never been allowed to play as a kid.

That particular day, Tala watched a few minutes of the daily kickball mischief then wandered the vendor market, offhandedly eying goods. Most were imported since Nevarro didn't have a lot in the way of flora or fauna. Fruits and vegetables and roots, candies, smoked meats, live animals, clothing and more was available for purchase. Stopping at a stand of fruit, Tala perused hand-melons thoughtfully, doing the math on how many she ought to buy. A silver flash in her periphery caught her attention then made her heart leap when she looked. It was him. She put the melon back she'd been considering, staring at the broad shoulders and back belonging to the Mandalorian. If he'd seen her, she hadn't noticed. His slow stride had him heading away from her and west—to the back end of the city.

Tala hesitated, then decisively followed, concealed by the throng of market goers between her and the Mandalorian. Maybe when he stopped at a vendor stall, she could bump into him and apologize. However, his journey took him past the last vendors in the market and he kept going. Tala paused at the edge of the marketgoers as Din became a single walking figure down a quieter street. Her resolve wavered then flared. If she was going to do this, she should just go now and get it over with. He turned down another street up ahead, and Tala set off again with speed this time, steeling herself and running through what she'd say.

But when she turned the corner and found an empty dead-end alley way, all thoughts evaporated. He was just gone. Immediately she looked up, half-assuming he'd scaled a wall and would be leering down at her from above. But no one was there. Cautiously she stole down the alleyway, then spotted a door with a drape across it. The only other place he could have gone. Over the doorway, faded Aurebesh declared Sewer Access. Toxic Chemical Warning. Do Not Enter.

Tala looked around again, stumped. Well where else could he have gone? She carefully pushed the drape aside and poked just her head in. She saw narrow stone stairs descending into darkness. She should really go back. But she didn't. The need to know was too intense. Just to the bottom of the stairs, she told herself. She'd just go to the bottom of the stairs and look around. She crept down, rounding the descending curve of stairs.

Her feet found the lower level. The smell was bad here, the air hot and stagnant, and there was very little light to see with. Darkness swallowed massive tunnels bearing to her left and right, and she thought she could see another one directly ahead, too. Squinting, she peered all three directions, unable to see anything with much clarity. She shuffled a few steps forward even though every instinct was screaming that she shouldn't be there. And you know what? She began to agree with herself and quickly decided never mind. This had been a bad idea. She turned to leave then sucked in a shocked gasp as she came face to face with another person. Her gasp attempted to turn into a scream—but a gloved hand clapped over her mouth, silencing the sound as quickly as it had begun. Wide-eyed and breathing hard through her nose, Tala was frozen, her alarmed senses recognizing the one holding her in an iron grip. It was him. And he seemed just as alarmed as she was, holding her tight and hard with his hand still over her mouth. "Don't… make… a sound," he whispered in a harsh, shallow breath. Slowly, his hand released from her mouth. Nearby, there were sounds of fast and forceful movement approaching. Din's voice took on a frantic quality as he swore in another hard whisper: "Dank farrik."

Author's note: A couple of things! 1) thank you to reader WhiteyWolf26 for the little prompt/headcanon I used as inspiration for the scene at Kizzo's! 2) As I'm sure is clear by now, I'm making a couple little changes to the established canon especially re: the Mandalorians' one above ground rule. More will be revealed about why and how it works as the story continues. Next chapter coming SOON, it's almost done and we'll find out what the heck Din keeps thinking about ("realization number two"). Hope you're enjoying the story, leave a review if you are!