Recap: The Mandalorian showed Yska around his ship, laid out some rules, assured her of her safety, and then fucked her on his couch. All a little too unplanned for his liking.

Dedication: AkaDeca for dropping some love!

Author's Note: Thanks for over 3,000 hits! I apologize for the long wait if anyone is still around to read this. Honestly, I forgot to post it here on . I hate editing this thing to comply with guidelines on sexual explicitness, so I much prefer posting at Ao3 (which is far friendlier towards explicit content and has an easier interface).

*The Explicit version of this story is cross-posted on ArchiveOfOurOwn (Ao3).

The Mandalorian's Reward

By Scarlet Willows

Chapter Four

"Yska...you may join me in the cockpit," the Mandalorian offered.

She popped her head around the corner of the open doorway. "But...I thought you said I wasn't allowed in here...?"

"Not without me, no." He turned back to his console, flipping switches and priming the engines.

The girl hesitantly settled into the chair next to him, chewing on her lip, and tucking a leg under her. As he steered them into the sky, he glanced at her soft face as she watched the clouds fade away into the darkness of space. An innocent smile spread over those delectable coral lips, genuine and beautiful. So beautiful that it made his chest ache. That something so simple could light up her face like that... And that he had done that for her... He had to look away.

"I've never been off-world!" She turned to him gleefully, momentarily forgetting her wariness of him. "I mean," she turned back, pressing her fingers to the window, voice full of awe, "...I'd dream."

His chest warmed. His lips tingled.

He was being foolish, sentimental. Letting his passions get the better of him. Maybe his defection was taking more of a toll than once projected. There were no accounts of the consequences of interrupting the Rite of Ardor, after all. Or at least, none that he'd come across. Perhaps...perhaps he should see if answers could be found at his home world, sooner rather than later...even if it it was haunted by ghosts of his past.

But first, Makeb.

He typed the coordinates into the console and made the jump to hyperspace.

Yska stifled a quiet gasp. He watched her from the corner of his visor, picking up on her whisper, "It looks like nighttime snow on the windshield." He said nothing as she watched the stars pass them by for the first time, mapping the way the lights reflected in her eyes. The light made her pale angles all the more ethereal. Her question snapped him out of his reverie: "So...where are we going?"

"Planet Makeb. The Hutt Cartel and the Republic are vying for control over the valuable mineral deposits. I picked up an Avesta Mining Corporation spy before meeting you yesterday. An old cartel contact wants him very badly." He leveled her with his gaze. "Conflict makes for good money and the Hutts pay well."

"Oh," Yska's stomach churned uncomfortably. Why did Makeb sound familiar? Why did the name instill dread? And why did she have a bad feeling about him doing this job? She'd known he was a bounty hunter and that it was dangerous work, of course. But...an uncomfortable thought struck her. "Um...," she started, before doubt stopped her.

"Speak," he said flatly, clicking some buttons and taking read-outs.

"What if...what if you get hurt? What will happen to me?"

He stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. "Yska. I have been doing this over two hundred years now. I am very skilled at what I do, so you needn't worry about my safety or yours. However," he looked to the side, quickly weighing his options before speaking, "If, in the unlikely event that something unfortunate happens...all my property, you included, would go to the head of my clan. My clan is fair and the Code demands that they would look after any of my charges. You would not be destitute."

He turned back to the console and the knot in Yska's stomach loosened by a thread. Although, the thought of something happening to him left a sour taste in her mouth. Even though she didn't know him very well, he'd been kind and she didn't wish ill on him. If only he didn't have to trek into danger...on Makeb...

Another thought seized her.

"Forgive me if this is a rude question, sir, but... If you've been doing this for so long, don't you have enough credits saved up to retire? You said earlier that money was no object..." She bit her lip, not sure if her position was secure enough to probe so deeply. But the curiosity was burning.

He shot her a look, raising a brow under his helm. A little impressed by her boldness, he decided to reward her with some truth. "Indeed, money is no object for me anymore. Hasn't been for a long time. I could have retired five times over by now."

"Then...why continue? Why not go home and settle in luxury?"

The Mandalorian pursed his lips. He wasn't sure if he wanted to encourage her prying, but he answered, regardless. "As a Mandalorian, I have no home. I own no lands. I go on until I value something greater than the Code."

"So...you don't want to settle down someday? Have a wife and family?" She cocked her head, the picture of naivety.

He looked at her then, and long moments passed. Enough so that the silence made the young girl squirm. With a deliberately level voice, he commanded, "That's enough for today, human."

Yska nodded quickly, a tremor in her bones, "Yessir. Sorry, sir." She regretted her overly curious mind.

The atmosphere had turned cold and no amount of huddling could keep her in that cockpit...even if the stars were beautiful.

"Yska," Sid called to her softly. After the medical droid had given her a clean bill of health and installed the Mesh birth control system, Yska had curled up on the couch with her coat as a blanket. She hadn't known what else to do, regretting that she hadn't at least bought a book along with her new clothes. She'd been afraid of being a further nuisance or taking up too much space. But she startled at the robotic voice. "Yska, dinner is ready."

It was a simple affair of meat and vegetable stew that she savored alone at the table. She would have used a few more spices, but it was satisfying and hearty fare. And she felt full without allowing guilt to follow the small joy.

She sighed, rubbing her flat stomach contentedly.

She decided to get a layout of the ship while she had the chance. She could take it all in without feeling scrutinized. The Mandalorian had said she had free rein...

She'd already seen the captain's quarters, galley, and common room - the latter hadn't been much to write home about - especially from the view from her back. Maybe he wouldn't mind if she put a woman's touch to it eventually - it could actually be hospitable then. Even just a couple plants would make that recycled air feel fresher and pleasant.

She ambled down the corridor, passing panels with buttons and switches. A short walk brought her to an empty room that appeared to have been gutted some time ago. A few bolts and bits of metal seems to have been forcefully ripped...or partially pried...from their bearings. Blaster scoring marked parts of the floor and walls. "The crew's quarters."

Yska jumped. Sid had appeared out of nowhere, offering explanation. She patted her chest and exhaled a sigh of relief. "Announce yourself a bit earlier next time, would ya?" She shook her head.

"Pardon me. I will endeavor to make more noise next time to alert you to my presence."

"Thanks," Yska turned back to the gutted room. There were a couple crates in the corner and a few scraps, but her eyes were drawn to those black smudges and jagged pieces of metal reaching out like claws. "What did you say this room was used for?"

"Crews' quarters. Bed bunks used to be bolted here and here," Sid dispassionately pointed to the jagged metal. "Thirty-five years ago, my master employed a biological crew. Five team members. Four slept in here."

"Where did the fifth member sleep?" She asked, wondering if there was another room on board.

"With my master," Sid answered mechanically. Oh.

"So...what happened to the crew?" She ventured into the room, noticing a door to a small fresher tucked to the left...but, eyeing those blaster scars with a pit in her stomach.

"My master's companion, the first mate, had plotted to steal my master's life savings for some months. She led the mutiny. A Deveronian pulled the bunks clear from their bolts to use as cover in the ensuing fight. They nearly succeeded and they almost took over the ship."

"Almost," came the Mandalorian's deep bass from the doorway.

Yska spun around, but kept her whits this time. "Something tells me they aren't rotting in a jail cell for it."

He made a sound that could have been a stifled laugh, but was easily covered by clearing his throat. He neither confirmed or denied, just replied with a simple, "Hmm." Was that a touch of amusement in his vocoder? Perhaps pride?

He shifted from leaning against the threshold to asserting his presence in the room. It seemed smaller suddenly, even as Sid made it's exit. "I was thinking...after I turn in my bounty on Makeb, we could get this room set up for you," he gestured nonchalantly, shifting something under his arm.

She looked around the plain metal walls, only seeing potential. She'd never had her own room; growing up in an orphanage, her brief stint with Dex, and finally a dorm at the brothel. Her own space was a foreign concept...and something she would relish more than words could express. "Thank you, sir," she ventured a small smile. He stood straighter, visor turning to the floor momentarily. His feet shuffled slightly. Yska was oblivious to the warrior's shift in energy as she envisioned her ideal room. "When will we make it to Makeb?"

"Three days, if all goes smoothly. Five at most. Oh," the Mandalorian extended his hand, offering the object he'd brought with him. Her eyebrows lifted. It was a datapad. "Had this laying around. It's outdated, but I thought it might bring you some entertainment. Has some vids, music, books, and games on it." He shrugged.

Growing up in a backwater orphanage on a nothing-special planet, datapads were expensive and therefore hard to come by. Only the head nun had had one for business. There was a time Yska would have given her left arm for one - all of the orphans would have - just to watch a simple holovid.

New clothes, food, her own space, and a datapad...when she'd briefly wished the Mandalorian would rescue her from that brothel, she hadn't dared imagine he'd be so benevolent. Her eyes shimmered as she held onto the gift. "Sir...you are more generous than you know. Thank you for showing me kindness."

"This isn't kindness," he stated flatly. "This is basic decency. I am simply meeting your chief needs. And I'm sorry you've lived such a life where it is hard to tell the difference."

"Well, in my experience, it is kindness because...you didn't have to do all this. I heard the other prostitutes talk... I'd accepted pain was likely my fate. Nowhere have I lived where I was encouraged to eat my fill or to find a hobbie or given new clothes." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I know I don't know you, sir...," she focused her gaze on a loose thread in her oversized sleeve. "For all I know, you could be hiding cruel intentions, but...I get the feeling you are the honorable warrior you appear to be." Yska glanced up at the Mandalorian hesitantly. "Although, my track record for judging character is pretty piss poor," she chuckled self-depreciatively with a shrug. "The last guy I trusted sold me into this life."

"What was his name?"

"Dex." Yska's young eyes clouded, her voice dropping low as she hung her head. "He said he cared about me." Silence stretched and Yska cleared her throat, putting on a fake smile, waving her words away dismissively with a nervous laugh. "Sorry to bother you. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

The Mandalorian was quiet for a few moments as he chose his words carefully and Yska started to regret opening her mouth...before the commando slowly, gently laid his gloved hand on her shoulder. As if he were soothing a startled animal. His thumb moved to her jaw, tilting her chin up to face his visor. "If I found it bothersome, I would not have asked. Yska...I understanding you are trying to come to terms with this situation. Today has been...abrupt." He tilted his head, voice softer. "Trust is intrinsic to comfort, and I'm sure in time we will find our footing with each other. When that happens, there are things I will teach you about unconventional pleasures...but nothing like the pain you imagine. I, too, have heard and seen my share of horrors and I admit with no small amount of satisfaction that I have disposed of more than my fair share of cruel men." He cupped her cheek in his large hand, indulging this unfamiliar urge to nurture for once. "And I am not this Dex. I do not harm or betray those I care about." He shifted his weight into her space so she had to crane her neck to look up at him as he wove gloved fingers into her vanilla locks. "And I plan to accustom you to such a level of comfort...that you will be unable to accept anything less than what you rightfully deserve. Do you understand?"

Her eyes glistened and her throat tightened and all the young woman could do was nod mutely.

The Mandalorian had no doubt that he hadn't heard the worst of her past. He was under no illusions that he could know this girl after a mere day and a half. But he was a good judge of character and he knew without a doubt that she was an innocent soul. His intuition told him Yska's demureness was not an act. How such a soul had survived a life that was likely worse than the snippets she'd shared was beyond him. It spoke to her great level of strength that she'd remained gentle in a life that had been designed to harden most. He certainly could not make the same claim.

And while her gentleness and submission made him stiff between his cuisses, he was unsettled. Submission borne of fear was not something he truly wanted. At least...not as a default. That intuitive part of himself wanted to pull her out of her fear and see where her true inclination lay; if beneath that fear lay a fiery disposition. If Yska would still submit to him even after she found and nurtured her strength...

His lips tingled.

What was it about this girl that evoked such...strange emotions?

He centered himself before refocusing on the conversation. "We can start clearing this area tomorrow, if you want," he redirected, giving the human a few moments to collect herself.

"I'd like that," she said, clearing her throat and blinking rapidly.

"Come, Yska. Let's settle for the night. I'll show you the cargo hold tomorrow." He turned and she followed him out silently.

A couple boxes awaited them on the large bed - their purchases from earlier that morning. "Go ahead and unpack your clothes into the dresser for now," he directed the girl while he made a beeline for the smallest box, already guessing it's contents. Strangely, he hoped the girl would be pleased with the purchase. He unloaded it and the multiple bottles of lube into the side table drawer while Yska followed his instructions. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be in the common room."

Mid-fold, shirt clutched in small hands, the human shot a quick glance at the warrior. "You're...you're not...staying?"

He assessed the girl silently a moment. Was that a hint of disappointment in her tone? A gleam of worry in her eyes? Perhaps relief? His brows furrowed invisibly. "I...think it would be best for both of us to have our own space right now. When we reach Makeb, I'll make arrangements to refurbish the crew quarters for you."

Yska slowly started to unpack the new clothes again, keeping her eyes deliberately on the task. "Isn't this your bed, sir? Wouldn't it be easier if I took the couch? I'll bet you need privacy to take off your-"

"If I say you're sleeping in this bed, then that's what will happen. Anything else is not your concern. Do you question this?" He didn't want her to fear him, per se, but part of the Mandalorian enjoyed watching the tiny girl shrink, even though he hadn't intended to use such a harsh tone with a thing so delicate.

"N-no, sir," she whispered through a trembling lip, clutching a cotton shirt to her chest.

"Then go ahead and finish with your clothes and get ready for bed."

"Yessir," she nodded quickly and quietly, folding as fast as she could while fighting off the tremors. Suddenly shy, she half-turned (so as not to seem like she was hiding) to hastily change out of her clothes into a nightgown. He'd seen her naked form before and he'd probably seen a lot worse, but Yska felt on edge under the commando's unblinking, no-face stare. She took only seconds to crawl under the covers to escape the chill, glancing up at the silver warrior.

Without a word, the Mandalorian turned off the lights and left.

It was pitch black, darker than any darkness that Yska had ever known, and she fought the panic creeping up her throat, reminding herself that she wasn't in the slave pens anymore.

Razzen-Va knew he was not a gentle person. Nor was he overly sensitive or kind or loquacious. He was harsh and reserved and his passions ran deep and a little dark. He knew he wasn't the type of man that this scared little human probably needed. He knew he wanted things that could break poor, sweet Yska.

And...Razzen-Va did not want to break her.

As he sat on the couch - resigning himself to several nights in the confining, heavy armor - he berated himself for acting impulsively, roughly...passionately. He didn't fully know what he wanted with the girl, or how to care for her, or how this might affect his work, or what he was going to do. This was completely new for him. But he did know one thing for certain:

Razzen-Va wanted to eventually see Yska find her strength.

...He just...wasn't sure how to help anyone do that...

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Thank you so much for your patience during my move! It took a lot longer than planned to get settled - and then Covid quarantine hit and the world went crazy! This chapter also did not want to cooperate and my muse kept flip-flopping! Stay safe and healthy!