Recap: The Mandalorian bought the services of a shy brothel-girl named Yska, who lied about her name. She enjoyed their time together and wished it didn't have to end...and that scared her.
The Explicit version of this story is cross-posted on ArchiveOfOurOwn (Ao3).
Dedication: This is for my awesome friend, Carl.
The Mandalorian's Reward
By Scarlet Willows
Chapter Two
The morning broke, cold and drizzly. The Mandalorian hadn't slept well. In fact, he'd barely slept at all. Long, pale curls and sad eyes had him tossing and turning.
He'd paid for the girl's services for the whole night, but hadn't pressed it when she'd fled. He knew self-preservation coping skills when he saw them. He'd seen them often enough. She'd been afraid, but he'd given her comfort and pleasure, something she had obviously lacked with others. It scared her. Scared her even more than the pain and degradation she'd expected, no doubt. She was young and pure...too pure for the likes of this life. Not yet jaded.
That wouldn't hold true in another year or so. That thought made him ill.
He threw the sheets off and made his way to the shower. He didn't know her. She wasn't anything to him.
Besides, even if she was...he was a hunter. That line of work didn't lend well to serious relationships and he wasn't yet ready to remove his helmet for good.
Armor secure once more, he grabbed what little gear he had, making his way downstairs. Only a handful of staff were about, setting up for the morning meal. He purchased a few meals to go, settled up the rest of his brothel fees, and waited at the counter.
Just then, the Kitonak entered from a back room, yawning sleepily. She spotted the Mandalorian and made her way over, a glint in her beady black eyes. "Did the service last night meet your needs?" She leered.
"Yes, thank you," he answered flatly, looking to the kitchens and drumming his fingers.
"Well, we look forward to your next visit, whenever you're in this sector. I'll give you a ten percent loyal customer discount," she nodded and waddled away as his food was delivered in a bag. He nodded and took three steps towards the exit. Before he stopped.
He was going to regret what he was about to do...he just knew it.
He turned around and hailed the madam. She padded over enthusiastically, "Can I help you with something else, sir?"
"How much do you want for the girl?"
"Oh, well the price would be the same from last night. I have some rooms by the hour if you don't want to stay another night. Will you-"
He held up his hand. "No, I mean...how much to buy out Tamry's contract?"
"Tamry...? Oh, you mean Yska?" Her brows furrowed.
"Was that the girl you brought me last night? The blonde?"
"Yes, sir. I'm afraid she's not for sale. You see, Yska just started. She's very new and she's got a lot of life and work left in her still. But you're welcome to visit her...for a price, just like anyone else."
The Mandalorian looked to the side for a moment before leveling the Kitonak again. "Everything's for sale. Name your price." His presence radiated danger.
The madam must have picked up on the energy, because she back-peddled slightly. "Well, now," her eyes turned sly, "it would be an impolite amount, I'm afraid. You see, I'd have to recover my costs for housing her and break even on monies still owed on her contract. And I have to consider the future profits I'd be losing by letting her go." She put a hand on her hip.
He paused, staring. Letting the tension build. Waiting for her to squirm.
It took a little bit longer - she'd been around the block and wasn't a stranger to the rougher side of life. But, in his experience, eventually everyone cracked.
When he spoke again, his tone was deliberate and full of authority. "Five thousand chits. That should more than cover your cost."
"Fine. If you have the cash, then you have a deal."
The suns were just starting to peek through the dingy windows of the brothel dormitory. More like barracks, in Yska's opinion. She knew her eyes were red, most likely with dark circles. She hadn't slept a wink. Instead she'd huddled in her lumpy bed, listening to the slow, rhythmic breathing of her dorm mates, waiting for the suns to wash the night away.
The Mandalorian's gentleness had stung her...possibly worse than when Dex had sold her to the pleasure traders...after he'd gotten what he'd wanted.
The bounty hunter's gentleness had felt worse because...she'd resigned herself to a life of...unkindness. No one had ever really wanted her. Her parents hadn't wanted her: Yska and her younger sister had been left on the steps of a dilapidated orphanage when she was ten. No one had wanted to adopt her: a nice young couple had adopted her little sister...and not her. She'd eventually aged out of the system and had met Dex. No wonder she had desperately clung to the first person who'd showed her even a sliver of affection. Dex had been charming, suave, and promised safety. She'd been easy prey for him, a slave trade reconnoiterer.
She'd accepted that her lot in life was to be abandoned. She supposed she was good for little else but brothel work at this point, since she had nothing to fall back on.
But last night had opened a doorway to Hope. That maybe...maybe there could be some future where someone wanted something good for her. That it was possible there was someone out there who could want...her. Even as worthless as she was. And maybe that someone came in the shape of a certain tall, masked warrior. And that was a dangerous thought.
Yska knew it was a silly fantasy. She knew it was because she was young and desperate to fill the void of childhood. And she knew that it would never happen.
Sun rays crept over the wood floor. The light did nothing to ward off the chill in the room...or her heart. Yska shivered, rubbing her hands together and regretting the night of lost sleep. Tondah would want her working the floor now that she'd healed. "You were worth a few pretty coins, girl, and I expect you to make all that back for me with interest," the Kitonak would say again, no doubt. Yska tried to shake the thought from her mind.
She wished she could just view the work like the other girls - a business exchange, a service provided, a simple physical labor. They were tough, hardened. But Yska...she'd always had fantastical notions of romance. She'd been taught lovemaking was sacred. She'd thought Dex had been special enough to share that with the first time. Obviously she'd been wrong. So, how could she trust herself now if she hadn't known in the first place who to put her trust in? If life was bound to be a disappointment, perhaps she'd just have to take all the meager scraps she could get without care...like the other prostitutes. Only look out for yourself, because no one else will, the others had warned. Take all you can get and leave them wanting.
But, all she found herself wishing she could do was go back to that room upstairs and peek under that mysterious helmet.
"Yska," the Kitonak hissed in a stage whisper. Only the lightest sleeper stirred and covered her head with her blankets. The alarm would be waking everyone soon enough.
Yska startled, clenching her arms around her legs more tightly. The madam waddled closer and sat on the edge of Yska's bunk. The Kitonak seemed to be bubbling with excitement - which Yska had only ever seen in conjunction with lots of creds. "What is it, Tondah?" Her voice came out scratchy from lack of sleep or water. She cleared her throat as quietly as she could.
"Yska, gather up all your things. Your contract has been purchased."
A bolt of freezing terror ran through the human's core. "W-what?"
"Your contract. It's paid up. You've been sold," the madam started pulling Yska's drawers open and packing the girl's meager things into a sack she'd brought. "I more than recouped my losses...with interest to spare!"
"Who...who bought me?" Yska swallowed, heart in her throat, numbly watching as her few possessions were tucked into the rucksack.
"Why, the Mandalorian, girl! My, my, that must be some snatch you have to have ensorcelled him! I thought he'd been upset when I saw you come back early - he paid for the whole night, after all. But, whatever you did made an impression. I bet the girls would want to know your secret! But then, I'd lose out on all my commissions if they kept leaving...so, keep it to yourself, will ya?"
Yska stood, fingers fidgeting. "Tondah...I swear I didn't do anything special. I just...I think I was more of a wreck than anything."
"Then chalk it up to your pretty face and thank the gods, girl. This is your ticket off this world. I'll pray he treats you kindly." She patted the blonde's face, "Now, get dressed." She set the rucksack down for the girl to finish, bustling out of the room as the alarm went off.
Groans of annoyance rose and a mass of feminine limbs stretched from under scratchy covers. Yska hurried to don a pair of simple leggings, tunic, jacket, and boots. She finished sanitizing her mouth with a sonic brush and secured the last of her toiletries into the bag. Before turning to leave, a shadow fell over her bed. Imalyn, the frustrated Zabrak from yesterday, loomed over her.
"Heard you're getting out of this shit hole," Imalyn glared, voice gruff, toned arms folded. The others stilled, scenting a fight in the air. Yska didn't want to fight... She didn't know how. And she'd heard the older woman talk of her days as a cage brawler. The human shrank. Yska knew she didn't stand a chance...and no amount of placating would redirect the Zabrak's anger.
Imalyn let her arms fall to her sides, fists clenched and ready.
With a deep breath, she drew a dagger from her back pocket.
The girls gasped and Yska squeezed her eyes shut.
"Human...I want you to have this. Take it." Yska's eyes shot open. Brows to her hairline. Imalyn fit the dagger's hilt into the human's slack grasp. The Zabrak sighed through her nose, mouth tight. "If he ever hurts you...use it. Make a run for it as soon as you can. Get the hell out of this life and make it your own. For me... For all of us, you hear?"
Yska nodded with misting eyes, her words getting stuck at the lump in her throat.
She and the Zabrak clasped forearms, so many unspoken words passing in the silence. Yska held her head high. No one said a word against her as she walked out the door and into her new life.
The Mandalorian waited, arms folded, leaning against the wall near the exit. His mind was racing. He wasn't prepared to house a permanent resident on his ship. He'd have to get some more supplies to compensate for an extra mouth to feed. And she'd likely need some clothes and necessities. Maybe something to keep her entertained. What had he just done?
But...he couldn't bring himself to regret it when he saw her emerge from the back door.
His stomach fluttered. She looked wholesome in her simple garb, hair gathered in a ponytail, rucksack slung over her shoulder. She followed the madam up to him, an air of quiet determination in her sleep-starved eyes. Eyes that met his visor more easily in the light of day.
"Thank you for your patronage, Mandalorian. I've sent the contract to your comm," the Kitonak leered, giving a shallow bow. "Now, be on your best behavior, Yska," she turned to the girl, patting her cheek. "We'll miss you."
"Thank you, Tondah. You've always tried to be fair to me," the human said, her voice flat and rough from a sleepless night. Either that, or emotion. The Mandalorian was thinking of other more pleasurable ways to turn her voice hoarse.
Yska turned to him then, taking a step closer. Looking up at him from under tired eyes that were still so young and innocent. He looked her up and down once more. There was something about her...he couldn't place it. But...he didn't regret his decision. He nodded and turned to lead her out the door.
The morning drizzle had turned to a soft rain, the light reedy and faint behind the cloud coverage. She followed a pace behind him, head down to protect against the elements. With a glance, he realized her clothing wasn't warm enough or weather proof like his armor.
The Mandalorian picked up his pace, locating a retailer along the main drag. He checked to make sure Yska was keeping up with his long strides and was satisfied. "This way." They ducked into an unassuming store. "Pick out a warm coat." The girl looked up at him uncertainly, shaking the droplets from her hair. "It needs to be sufficient for the weather."
Yska perused options on a replicator screen, being mindful of the price and the time. He seemed to be in a hurry. She didn't want to keep him waiting or cost him more money. "Is...is this one alright for...your budget?" She asked timidly, almost afraid to speak. Afraid to draw any attention.
"Money is no object. Your pack looks small. Get any other items you need. We won't see another town for some time," he commanded flatly.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Well, she did need more clothes. She only had three outfits to her name and she didn't know when she'd get another opportunity. The bounty hunter went to another replicator and busied himself with restocking. Yska chose a dozen everyday outfits for varying temperatures and terrains, three dresses for special occasions, and four pairs of shoes. She also added a small case of cosmetics, toiletries, perfume, and lubrication. "Umm," she signaled to him uncertainly. The Mandalorian strode over, looming behind her back. Yska's cheeks turned red. "Is this alright, sir?" She scrolled slowly to show him her selections.
"Yes. But let's increase this quantity." He reached over her shoulder to tap on the screen to add more lubrication. The redness spread to Yska's ears. She hadn't wanted to assume how often he might want to take her, but the amount he'd entered indicated a lot.
"Um...is there anything specific you need me to get?" She felt his visor fix her with that blank gaze. He assessed her for a moment before wordlessly leaning over and tapping on the screen. She bit her lip as she watched him select several nightgowns and lingerie sets with varying degrees of sensuality. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and heat pooled in her loins.
He paused, finger hovering over the checkout button. "What is your method of birth control?"
The human bit her lip, shifting her weight. "Tondah had us on oral hormone suppressants."
"Unreliable," he stated flatly. "We will get a Mesh."
"What's that?" She raised a curious brow.
"Nanite technology," he explained, adding it to the digital cart. "It's a chip that is placed inside your canal that destroys all sperm. Far more effective without disturbing your natural balance." She looked down at the floor. He was in charge and had the final say, after all. She didn't know much about all the options out there anyway, so who was she to argue? She didn't put it past the Kitonak to have cut corners if it came to saving a few creds, even in this matter.
He returned to his console, inquiring, "You are human, yes? Humans are omnivores, correct?" Yska nodded. "Any allergies?"
"No, sir."
He finalized the purchases and instructed the supplies to be transported to his ship's cargo bay. Except for the rain coat, which was replicated on the spot for her immediate use. He'd calculated enough extra food, water, and supplies for at least three months, to be safe.
"Come, Yska," he commanded as they left the store.
Out in the rain, Yska felt much better under her new coat as she followed closely in the Mandalorian's wake.
His boots thumped thickly on the sidewalk. People turned their heads and stared.
Chewing her lip, she deliberated. Steeling herself, she fell into line at his side, saying, "Thank you. For the clothes." He glanced at her, but remained silent. He hadn't chided her for speaking out of turn, so she ventured again cautiously. "I'm sorry I lied to you about my name."
He glanced at her again before returning his gaze to the sidewalk. She thought he wouldn't answer again. "...I understand the necessity for it." She looked up at him, fixing her eyes on his silvery visor. "Besides...I much prefer Yska to Tamry." Warmth fluttered in her belly and she hid a pleased smile in the corner of her lips. With her eyes on the ground, she didn't realize he'd noticed the small slip. Against code, he felt himself sharing unnecessarily, "Knew a Tamry once."
"Oh? Ex lover?" She asked, taking the opening he'd given.
"Of a sort. Later, a Guild traitor. Had to kill her." He watched her eyes go wide, pulling her lips in tight.
A few long moments of awkward silence passed. Yska swallowed, eyeing his blasters and blades inconspicuously as if to cement what she already knew. He was a warrior. He'd killed. He was dangerous. And...he'd bought her.
When Yska felt she'd schooled her features, she ventured again, "Will you tell me your name now?"
"No," his speaker rumbled deeply without feeling.
"Why not?" she asked with confusion.
"Because this is The Way." She didn't understand what he meant, but wasn't confident to press him on it.
"Then, what should I call you?" Yska put her chilled hands in her coat pockets.
"Sir is preferred. Mando can be fine under the right circumstances."
They rounded the corner and came to a docking bay. He'd scheduled maintenance and refueling for his ship while he'd stayed at the brothel. It seemed as if the crew had just finished. A grease-stained Iktochi sauntered up, wiping his hands on a rag. "Your fuel injectors needed a good flush and I fixed the leak in your hydro jack. She's all set, Mando." He wiped his forehead, unintentionally smearing a sooty smudge.
"Thank you," the Mandalorian nodded and transferred some credits to the mechanic from his forearm panel.
"Pleasure doin' business with ya, Mando," the Iktochi grinned. "Oh, hey, can I have your ear for a moment?"
The Mandalorian followed him a few feet away silently where the two men shared a private exchange. Yska shuffled her feet awkwardly, shifting her rucksack. There were flashes of welding torches in the distance as other mechanics tuned parked crafts, masculine shouts reverberating on metal surfaces. She looked at the ship a small ways off. Her new home. It was larger than she'd expected.
The Mandalorian returned to her side momentarily.
"We'll take off when our goods arrive." He put his hand on her lower back, nudging her in the direction of the ship.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she mumbled, "Why did the mechanic pull you away?"
"That's not really your concern, is it?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"Sorry, sir." She ducked her head.
Even though they were widely mistrusted, Iktochi's were renowned for having reliable premonitions.
The mechanic's smile had had a mischievous, knowing twinkle when he'd pulled the warrior away.
The Mandalorian didn't want to tell the young human the premonition the Iktochi had shared: "If you treat that young girl well...she'll lead you to your richest reward yet."
Look for updates on Fridays.
Star Wars takes place in a very technologically advanced society. I feel they would have things like replicators. Even we have 3D printers that can make everything from food to houses - that's just the first step to having full on replicators, and we aren't nearly as advanced. So yes, they would have replicators.
I'll try my best to be regular. I'm riding the inspiration wave. I respond to all reviews/comments. I'm also in the process of transferring all my stories over to Ao3 under the same pen name, so drop them some love in the meantime!