Eventually I found a small hostel to sit in while the child and I waited for the Mandalorian to return. The restaurant in the back was mostly quiet, so I nestled into a booth far away and out of sight while my eyes skipped around the room, registering the last few minutes. Indeed, Nevarro was overwhelmingly different than I remembered, but I couldn't shake the familiar dread that clung itself on to me. As though on purpose the chefs in the kitchen slammed their pans on the stovetop, the loud noise frightening and jolting me out of my seat a bit. I exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm my uneasy energy, their banter in the back blending in with the rest of the noise in the restaurant.
I folded my hands on the table and stared through the murky window at the brightly colored flags that waved in the desert wind. I had to admit to myself, Cara and Greef significantly improved the town. Merchants buzzed about in the alleyway and fussed with vegetation planted in ornamental ways, attracting small songbirds to their flowers. Mesmerized by the scene before me, I locked eyes with a woman through the glass, who's smile faded a bit when she noticed my unwelcome gaze. The waitress cleared her throat at me, one hand on her hip, and I apologized for my reverie and purchased some food for myself and the kid.
I pushed a bowl of chowder towards him. "Eat up," I advised. He looked between me and the food curiously, hanging his head. "I'm not a chowder fan. It's too chunky."
I sipped my tea and watched as he lifted the bowl and slurped loudly, finishing the food in one gulp. His lips smacked together, a tentacle dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as he looked around the room. His big eyes focused on a game of cards happening at the booth nearby. Resting my chin in my palm, I couldn't help but study him intently, though not without a small sound of disgust as he gobbled down the remainder of his meal. It was nearly impossible to mistake him for another creature, and though I didn't travel very far, I couldn't put my finger on where I previously might have heard about him.
Time was passing slowly. I sat up in the booth after taking an accidental nap, noticing the sun wasn't much lower in the sky than it was when I fell asleep. My fingers drummed on the table in tune with the band outside and I was beginning to get antsy. I felt like taking a walk but was tired of carrying the child everywhere. Eyeing his small frame, I decided it was best to make him his own holster for me to hold him in, similar to what the Mandalorian had. We left the restaurant and found a merchant outside of the hostel. After negotiating with the seller, we purchased an old, leather coat and some sewing materials, and walked to the edge of town together. I placed the now sleeping child on a stone wall and sat beside him, laying out all the materials I needed to begin creating a satchel for us. With one hand I held the fabric up to the child and began cutting pieces to his size, using the other to write measurements down. I added smaller pieces to make two pockets on either side for other belongings. It took me most of the rest of the afternoon, but after pricking myself various times with the needle and finally getting the sizing right, I managed to create something useful. Proudly, I held it up to examine it. It had two straps that crossed over my chest like an "x" and a small bag that sat on the back with a piece sewed on to cover the interior. It was by no means perfect, but it would do. The child fit snuggly inside and seemed comfortable, cooing at me as I adjusted the bag around him. I swung it over and was relieved to finally be done with carrying him.
"Alright, this might work," I said, craning my neck to try and see the kid behind me. His ear grazed my cheek and I laughed, adjusting the straps on the bag so he could see a bit better and was satisfied with our new set up. "Comfortable back there?"
He let out a sharp sound that told me he was, and we set off to walk around the town more. It felt nice to be able to let my guard down a bit and blend in as part of a community here. We poked around various cafés—the child selectively stealing snacks using his powers without me noticing—and strolled into museums and other tourist attractions. The more time I spent observing the community here, the more I was genuinely shocked at how far Nevarro progressed. People's attitude seemed light and airy, deep laughs escaping from windows in the apartments above. I made a mental note to compliment Cara and Greef on their efforts here.
Within the shadows, a Kubaz cunningly stalked the child and I while we walked through the streets of Nevarro. Instinctively, I felt a prickle on the back of my neck, the familiar sense of watchful eyes glued to my back. Gaining speed, I began gliding between carts in an attempt to evade whoever was watching us. The Kubaz remained where she was. She didn't need to know where I was going—seeing the child and knowing he was here, on this planet, was enough. The Kubaz clicked her radio to communicate with the Captain, and slipped behind a door, unnoticed.
The sun was beginning to set and after a few hours, I saw the Mandalorian making his way towards us down a small alley. When he reached where I was waiting, I felt a new uneasiness about him, but I handed him the child without question. The Mandalorian quietly admired the satchel I designed, impressed with how quickly I managed to create it, noticing the intricate patterns along the straps that I thoughtfully included. I decided not to tell him about the eerie feeling I had earlier, since at that point I'd already convinced myself that I was being paranoid, and he kept his reservations to himself as well.
As I watched the Mandalorian greet the kid with a fatherly manner, I was beginning to understand the relationship between the two of them and felt a bit of jealously fester in me. I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from remembering what that connection with someone meant to me. I breathed in deeply through my nose and looked around for Cara and Greef.
"Successful?"
"Yes," he said, tucking the kid into the sack around his shoulder. We began walking together towards where the hanger was. "The Razor Crest needs another night for repairs, and I promised Cara I'd help her take care of one more thing, so we'll be here until late tomorrow morning."
"Alright," I gazed out to the horizon. "I think I'll go watch the sunsets. I can stay out of your way and meet you by the ship at some point."
He remained silent. When we reached the outer city limit of Nevarro, I sensed the Mandalorian had more to say, though he hesitated. The child babbled at him affectionately, and the Mandalorian looked at him as though they communicated telepathically. I couldn't help but give a small smile at their exchange, their connection obvious to any bystanders.
"Anyway," I said, turning to walk towards a scenic area nearby. "I'll see you sometime tomorrow."
"Wait," he prompted. I froze. "Cara brought up a good point to me. I don't know anything about you."
My expression was filled with confusion, remembering our conversation from the other day, and waited for him to further explain. "I don't understand."
"I only just learned your name this morning," he stepped closer to me. "If we're going to work together, it would be best if I knew more about you and your abilities."
Though I couldn't help but internally agree with him, this was contradictory to our agreement. My eyes searched the ground for a moment before I answered him. "The other day you told me you weren't asking questions. What changed your mind?"
He considered this, looking past where I stood, appreciating the vista behind me. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how to answer my question. There were a few things he didn't fully know about me that intrigued him—my abilities, of course, but there was something else. It may not have been noticeable to a stranger, but the Mandalorian observed an unspoken trust between the child and me. He was shocked how quickly the two of us seemed to have formed a bond, the kids behavior indicative of how comfortable he was with me. It was rare that he would seek the solace of others, and the Mandalorian noticed this instance a few times—especially recently, when the child slipped out of the bunker to nuzzle beside me in my sleep, my arm draped around him in an affectionate manner. Ultimately, he didn't think of a good answer to say. He shifted where he stood and waited for me to decide.
I subconsciously reached into my pocket and began to flip a coin between my fingers to help process his suggestion. Based on his proposition, if we continued to work together, I knew I had to go all in, or abandon ship now. Otherwise, things would begin to surface that might unintentionally get in the way of his trust in me, and vice versa. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. If I stayed, unless I lived in Nevarro, my options were limited. Tatooine was hard to depart from but a necessity, and I couldn't see myself living in Nevarro easily due to the fear and trauma within me that was linked to this planet. However, showing this Mandalorian more about my possession of the elements was triggering. I stared into his visor with concerned eyes, remembering the rumors and terrifying stories from other folks of my species when they revealed themselves to someone they thought they could trust, and began to reflect on my deal with the Mandalorian.
My eyes pinned to the child, who nibbled on his fingers and blinked up at me from where he was within the Mandalorian's satchel. I admitted silently to myself that something clicked when I met this creature. I was drawn to him, the depth of my consciousness resurfacing an odd sensation, and I felt like I couldn't leave his side until I knew he was safe—whatever that meant. The Mandalorian could see the contemplation wavering on my facial expressions and knew, for some reason, the child and I were similar in ways we weren't even aware of yet. He realized this was what forced me to reconsider. I crossed my arms. If I were strategic, maybe I could share pieces of myself at a time, to ensure my safety and that of my species. Besides, this Mandalorian had already witnessed my bending with the Krykna, and he kept my secret—as far as I could tell. However, he did tie my wrists together in an attempt to subdue me, sending my thoughts in an infinite loop of apprehension. After what felt like several minutes of deciding I nodded once, walking out towards the desert of Nevarro to a sand dune far enough away from the center of town where we could talk without interruption, feeling less confident in my decision with each passing second.