Author's Note

I don't know about you guys, but my year isn't starting out so great. My grandfather fell the other day (the medical problem kind of falling, not the clumsy kind of falling) and then we found out he caught Covid (which may or may not have to do with why he fell). Suffice it to say, I need a distraction. So in my woe, you guys get a chapter!

Also, it's so wonderful to see some familiar usernames in my inbox again! I forgot how much I missed reading reviews!

Alright, this chapter picks up right after the last one. Go onward and enjoy!


Prepare for Launch Pt. 1

Mahin gasps awake with her heart hammering in her chest. Cold sweat soaks through the black tank top she wore to bed. It clings to her skin uncomfortably like duct tape. Running a shaky hand through her tangled mess of hair, she sits up in bed with a tired sigh.

Nightmares. Again. It's been months since the last one, but they're all the same. Dark images flash across her mind, still, even after waking. Faces half-remembered. Splotches of red. A soft hum, pitch changing as it moves through the air, almost like an engine but the sound not quite right.

Screams. So, so many screams.

Dreams mixing with memories, jumbling together to create a tight coil of fear in her chest. She breathes slowly, deeply, but the feeling doesn't fade as the moments tick by.

The hairs on the back of her sweat-slicked neck stand on end. She stiffens, eyes darting around her dark bedroom. Moonlight peeks through her closed curtains, sunrise still a while out yet. Nothing stands in the shadows but she still can't shake it. The feeling that something isn't right. It feels like more than just remnants of her nightmare. More than just specters in her mind.

Something deep in her gut tells her that she's in danger and she needs to move now.

She slides from bed on silent feet, padding barefooted to the coveralls she discarded only a few hours ago. She pulls them on, leaving it unzipped so she can tie the sleeves around her waist to use the coveralls as pants. Her boots lie haphazard in a corner. It would be quieter to stay barefooted, but if something happens and she needs to run….

Mahin slips the boots on, lacing them up and knotting them as fast as possible. All the while ears straining for any unfamiliar sounds. The bar has gone quiet downstairs. It must be closer to dawn. Most of the patrons have either gone home for the night or sleep it off slumped over at a table by now. Still, she stays vigilant as she exits her apartment and descends the stairs, careful to avoid the steps that creak. Pushing the door open a crack, she peers one eye into the bar.

Utterly empty. All the chairs stacked up, lights off, floor swept clean as much as a dingy bar can be clean. No one waiting to ambush her. No one with blasters primed at the ready.

But the foreboding in her stomach won't fade. Instead, it pulls her forward, through the bar, and out a side door only she and the bar owner have the code to.

No one lingers in the streets. The feeling urges her left and she follows, trying to walk as casually as possible as her eyes constantly sweep the darkened alleyways.

She hears something and stops, head tilted to the side. Voices. Indistinguishable from here, but definitely voices. She follows the sound into a narrow alley that leads towards the spaceport.

"Spread out!" someone shouts, out of sight, but it makes Mahin stop dead in her tracks with her blood running cold.

It's odd, really. Voice modulators don't vary a whole lot. It's not like they each distort voices a different, unique way. It shouldn't be possible to differentiate between them, to tell what kind of helmet the voice comes from. And yet, as soon as Mahin hears this voice, she knows it isn't a Mandalorian around the corner.

She knows, deep in her bones, that the voice comes from a Stormtrooper's helmet.

Kriff, this can't be happening.

Not again.

Crouching low, she approaches the end of the ally, squatting behind some old crates taller than her before slowly peeking around the side.

About three dozen Stormtroopers swarm the shipyard, their white armor gleaming in the moonlight. Shiny and new and not falling to pieces like the Empire is supposed to be. The Empire isn't supposed to be this big, this organized, this much of a threat. Not anymore.

This was all supposed to be over. So why isn't it?

"Search the entire shipyard," the one in charge calls out, "and then spread out into the city! Find the child! They have to be here somewhere."

Child? What child? What would the Empire want with a kid? Of course, Mahin was just a kid when the Empire started hunting her so maybe….

"Hey!" A gloved hand grabs her forearm and yanks her up, spinning her around to put her face to face with a Stormtrooper helmet. The black and white makes such an angry contrast, the grill of the mask giving him a constant snarl. "What are you doing?"

"I-I," her mind races, trying to come up with an answer, with a way out, but the building panic makes it hard to concentrate. "I heard voices. Wondered what was going on. I'm just on my way home."

"Wait a minute." His voice pitches low in thought as his other hand goes to his belt, unclipping a puck like what bounty hunters use to keep the information on their bounties. He thumbs the device on, hologram flickering to life with the portrait of an unfamiliar face projecting into the air. He clicks the puck a few times to cycle through different people before stopping on one.

The hair is shorter, the face about ten years younger, but her hair is just as fiery red and distinctive as ever.

"Mahin LaMontagne," the Stormtrooper reads. "Well, well, well. We've been looking for you for a long time. Moff Gideon will be pleased." His grip on her arm tightens. "You're coming with me."

Mahin frantically tries to pull away, digging in her heels but finding no purchase in the cobblestones. The Stormtrooper from dragging her forward relentlessly. She lashes out with her feet. Kicks as hard as she can like she was taught, but his armor protects him from going down.

Until suddenly he does.

They make it no more than a few steps before he falls. He just suddenly stiffens, letting out a gurgled grunt, and then releases her to slump to the ground, completely still. A dark pool grows beneath him. It gleams red and black in the yellow lights flickering from the spaceport. The sudden loss of his grip causes her to tip backwards, landing on her butt in the grime of the alley.

Her pants sound abnormally loud between the buildings as she stares with rounded eyes.

Luca stands above the body, slipping his vibroblade back into the sheath on his thigh. Melinda stands next to him. Her Mandalorians, her friends, just suddenly there when she needed them most. Mahin quickly scrambles to her feet, throat tight as she launches herself at Luca. He wraps his huge arms around her, his large stature making him feel like a giant compared to her and so, so safe.

"What are you two doing here?" she sniffles, pulling back to hug Melinda as well.

"We heard Stormtroopers had landed on planet and came to make sure you were alright," Melinda replies, cupping Mahin's cheeks in her hands. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine."

But that was close. So very, very close. Closer than she's been in years.

"Are these the ones you hide from?" Melinda asks, eyes boring into hers even though Mahin can't actually see them. They demand the truth and, honestly, Mahin doesn't have the strength to try to hide from them.

Not them.

"They are," Mahin admits softly. "The Empire has been hunting me since I was a child after. But I don't think they're actually here for me. I was just a happy coincidence. I heard them say they're searching for a kid."

"But they will take you if given the chance." Melinda squeezes her shoulders before stepping back, drawing her blaster. "The Imps have started to swarm the city. We will help you find safe passage off-planet. It is your best chance to avoid detection."

"No!" Mahin hisses, shaking her head frantically. "You need to get back to the covert, get everyone out of here before the Stormtroopers find you. They likely know about the tunnels and will be searching them in their hunt for this kid."

"Don't worry, the covert is already evacuating into the woods. Our only concern is for you."

"But—"

"No buts, ad'ika," Luca cuts in, pushing her back towards the crates. Melinda crouches next to her, shushing her again when Mahin tries to say something. "You two stay here. Wait for my signal, then move."

"Oya!" the two Mandalorians tell each other, and then Luca disappears back down the alley in the opposite direction of the shipyard.

Mahin and Melinda stay crouched behind the crates out of sight, tense and waiting. Mahin reaches into the hidden sheath in her boot to pull out her own vibroblade. Despite acting all confident with Mando earlier she's never actually had to use it before. She hopes she won't have to use it now but knows she won't hesitate if another Stormtrooper gets too close again.

She'll do whatever's necessary to survive. She always does.

But she doesn't want her Mandalorian family to suffer because of it.

An explosion blooms in the night, several blocks away and erupting into the sky. The force of it shakes her chest with the vibrations, so hard it feels like her ribs threaten to crack.

"He never could do things subtly," Mahin mutters, sensing Melinda give her a smirk.

Subtlety or no, it works, Stormtroopers shouting and running towards the billowing flames. Melinda watches them go for a few long moments before pulling Mahin to her feet.

They run, Mahin doesn't know where, but Melinda leads her into the shipyard, weaving between ships as fast as their feet can carry them. Mahin loses track of the number of turns they take, eyes and ears always on the alert for Stormtroopers returning, but everything stays silent. Eventually, Mahin realizes that they've ventured into her section of the shipyard and then Melinda stops outside of the Razor Crest.

"Alright, Mahin," Melinda says urgently, pressing her hand into the small of Mahin's back to push her towards the ship, "climb up the landing gear and get inside. You should be small enough to fit."

"Are you serious?" Mahin balks, planting her feet. "I can't just sneak aboard Mando's ship! Can't we just, you know, ask him if I can come along? He'd probably even say yes to you."

Blaster fire pings off the ship's exterior and Melinda spins, firing off a few quick shots of her own. The Stormtrooper goes down but a half dozen others runs towards them. More are sure to follow.

"We don't have time!" Melinda pulls something out from beneath her shirt and breastplate, a pendant of some sort dangling on a leather chord. Mahin doesn't catch what it is before it gets shoved around her own neck. "Take this. If he gives you any trouble, show it to him and you should be alright." She cups Mahin's cheeks, a mask so expressionless never looking so tender as she whispers, "Stay safe, my ad'ika. We will meet again. I swear it."

Tears streak down Mahin's face as Melinda shoves her towards the ship again, not wanting to just leave them. How can she leave them to this fate? But she can't help. She's not a fighter. Not like them. And she can't stay, so Mahin climbs up the landing gear with heavy feet, squirming her way through the tight space into the belly of the ship.

The compartment for the landing gear is small, just barely big enough for her to fit in without bumping an elbow against tubing or wire. The hum of the rear ramp opening vibrates through the ship, Mando presumably coming out to investigate the commotion. More blaster fire joins Melinda's as Mando joins the fight.

"No, you must go," Melinda urges him, even as the shouts of the Stormtroopers draw nearer.

"I'm not leaving you," Mando retorts with a deadly growl. "I had to abandon a covert once before and I'm not doing it again!"

"This isn't about you or me or the covert. This is about the safety of the ad'ika. Nothing is more important than getting the ad'ika out of here. This is the Way!"

Mahin bites down sharply on her bottom lip to keep in her sobs. Mandalorians and their self-sacrificing Ways, she growls to herself bitterly. Mando could help. He looks capable. Between him and Melinda and Luca, they could probably take these Stormtroopers just by themselves.

But they won't. Because this is the Way.

"This is the Way," Mando parrots, sounding just as frustrated as Mahin, but he still tromps back up the ramp.

To leave them behind.

The whir of the ramp closing gets Mahin going again, wiping angrily at her cheeks as she moves through the compartment. She needs a better hiding place. In just a few moments, the landing gear will retract and take up her spot whether she's still in it or not.

She worms her way on her stomach through the wires and piping, finding an access panel on the far wall. Saying a silent apology to Luca, she presses the tip of her vibroblade to one of the screws holding the panel in place. Never has she wished for her tools more in her life but the blade will have to do in place of a screwdriver. She just hopes the tip doesn't break off or Luca will kill her the next time she sees him.

Kriff, she hopes she sees him again.

The ship rumbles to life just as she gets it open and crawls through into the ventilation system. It's a little bit roomier and a lot safer, allowing her to lift up on her hands and knees. She crawls for a bit and then stops, turning around to sit against one wall and her feet braced against the opposite with her knees bent. The ship rumbles as they raise off the ground. The ride up through the atmosphere is rocky, jerky, forcing Mahin to brace a hand on the vent ceiling so she doesn't hit her head.

Mahin closes her eyes tight, heart hammering in her chest and wondering if it was all for nothing, if they're getting shot at right now and are about to fall out of the sky.

Then the ride goes smooth. She stays tensed. Waiting. Waiting for a crash or an alarm or something that means they're about to explode in a shower of sparks. But the ship stays smooth. Mahin imagines them climbing higher and higher into the sky, out into the black of space and away from the planet she's called home for the past eight years, since she arrived at the age of twenty-one with nothing to her name to scrape out a piece of existence for herself.

An existence made bearable by the arrival of the Mandalorians. People she started to think of as family.

But now they're gone. Just like her birth family. Just like everyone she ever gets close to.

She never should have gone there. Never should have let herself get close to them. She should have just shown the Mandalorians the tunnels and then left them alone. Instead, she got attached, got them involved in her mess, and now they very well could all be dead.

She should have left sooner. She was told staying in one place for too long could be dangerous. But she was happy there. Happier than she's been in a long time.

Mahin draws her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Then she remembers the necklace. The weight of it rests against her breastbone. Her fingers brush against metal as she lifts the pendant up to hold a few inches from her face, squinting to make it out in the dim light.

The tears begin to fall in earnest as she stares at the likeness of a Mythosaur skull, made with shining beskar. Mandalorians receive a pendant like this from their alor when they take on the Creed. This is precious to Melinda, and yet she gives it to Mahin.

Mahin presses her fact to her knees to muffle her sobs, clenching the Mythosaur tightly in her hand.

She always loses everything. Why did she think this time would be any different?


Author's Note

Oh, hey, my penchant for cliffhangers is back. I've missed them. *evil laugh*

You guys probably thought it would be a smooth transition to getting Mahin on Din's ship, huh? I don't like to do smooth for long though. Gives me hives. Exciting is a lot more fun. It's not like Mahin would leave Melinda and her covert willingly anyway and I really liked the idea of her stowing away. But don't worry, we'll be seeing the covert again soon!

I won't hold you guys in suspense for too long, so the next chapter will be up in a few days.

Hope you enjoyed, PLEASE REVIEW, and see you all next time!


Translations

ad'ika (little one)

Oya (Many meanings: literally "Let's hunt!" and also "Stay alive!")