Fire burnt through your skin as you felt your mind muddle and your eyes haze over. You arched your back and whimpered pathetically as you struggled against your restraints. The linen sheets underneath you soaked with your sweat even though the only coverings on your body consisted of your undergarments, and the loose shirt of your traveling companion- A nameless Mandalorian- who stood at the edge of the bed. Yet again, you thrashed against the stun cuffs that held your limbs down to the bedposts. The desperate, needy, fire burning underneath your flesh, was much more powerful than the sting of the cuffs on your joints. You looked back to the armored man, who clenched and unclenched his fists in what one could only assume to be worry before you muttered the only phrase at the forefront of your mind.
"Please…" You begged, yanking on your cuffs.
"Touch me."
How did you get into this situation? At what point did you sign up for being cuffed to a bedpost, sweating out a 108-degree fever, on an outer-rim planet, miles away from any doctor or medic? If you had to guess it would probably have something to do with when the baskar cladded man stopped at the mechanic shop you'd been apprenticing in for the better part of four months.
When Peli Motto told you an acquaintance of hers was heading out and needed their ship spick-and-span for when he arrived back you thought it'd be a standard fix-up. Tighten up the engines, check on the consul, maybe shine up the landing gear for a few extra credits. But when you saw a pre-empire YT-1000 docked in front of you, put together with rudimentary welding and a fucking prayer, a joyful childlike excitement filled your body. You hadn't had a challenge like that since you were in your early teens, putting together a speeder bike with nothing but your father's old datapad and equipment you "borrowed".
"He's a bit weird with droids." Peli told you as she watched you inspect the ship.
"When I first met him, 'No Droids' he tells me. Took me twice as long to fix his barely standing clunker. Next time I see him, says he doesn't mind them now! Took me less time, sure, but the pay wasn't nearly as good. Anyways, that's why I'm letting you take this one over.", apparently your shock was visible enough to warrant another response from your trade master.
"You've done your research on pre-empire spacecraft. I've got full faith in your skill." she had reassured you.
"Yeah, but… I've never done a project this big before. This is a three-person craft, with two busted engines, an exposed fuel tank… and that's not to mention the other atrocities I'll find if I look long enough." you explained. Peli only shrugged at your response.
"Let's just see how you do. Can't fuck it up any more than it already is.", looking back at the ship you knew that to be true. It was amazing that it even flew, anything that you could've done to the ship wouldn't have been nearly as bad as letting the pilot fly off as it was. Cocking your head to the side you began to form a plan on how you would attack the mess.
"Well… I guess I could start with the engines. That seems like the biggest issue. Then work on the-", When you turned back around Peli was halfway across the yard with her back turned to you. Walking towards the garage with her mech-droids in tow.
"-…Fuel tank." You sigh. Pulling out your data-pad you did some quick button pressing and began playing music as you got to work.
Peli didn't tell you much about the pilot. The only description that she gave was that he was a bounty hunter who was very good at his job, that he would be back in five days exactly, and that you could probably count on him coming back early. Other than that you knew nothing about who owned the ship, but that was fairly commonplace. Many types of people drifted through Tatooine, all attracted one way or another to the anarchic lifestyle on the planet. But as long as their credits spent, Peli didn't seem to mind who they were or what business they had. You kept that same mindset as you climbed up to the left engine and got to work.
You drank a lot of caffe that week.
From sunrise to sunset, you put your blood, sweat, and tears into making the man's ship into something resembling flyable. Would it have passed any flight codes? Absolutely not. Half of the shit you ended up fixing the engines with was stolen- er traded parts you had in your personal artillery. In fact, some issues required parts that weren't even in production anymore. A look through that ship by any inspector would have that baby pounded, but regardless, it flew. And after taking it for a quick test run, you could confidently say that the customer wouldn't die while piloting it.
It was noon on the fourth day, when the Tatooine suns were at their highest peaks, that you had finally finished. Or at least, made the ship safer. Stepping off the ladder and looking back at your work, you felt a mute accomplishment. Peli had taught you that any good job was a job that the customer paid for. Meaning, that you shouldn't put more work into something if it will directly cause you credits. The logic was flawless enough, and you definitely weren't in a place to be recklessly shelling out credits, but something always made you cringe a little when you had to walk away from an unfinished project. You had already done more than you were asked for by completely replacing the left engine, using your personal supply on his busted fuel tank, and hand welding discontinued parts together. The job was done. There was nothing else you could've fixed that wouldn't have been a moot point.
At least, that was what you told yourself as you went back into the shop to refill on caffe. Once you got inside, however, the cool air made your shoulders slouch and your head clear. You had barely rested that week, and the comfort of the air-conditioned dwelling really made that apparent. Usually, ships like the YT-1000 were managed by a crew, so tiny damages wouldn't turn into gigantic messes that underpaid 20 somethings and their trade master's service droids would have to repair.
Fatigue hit you like a level three dust storm and the only thing that could have possibly cleared your body of exhaustion was a good long nap. After throwing your tool belt aimlessly onto a counter, you shuffled your way to the hammock on the far side of Peli's common area and let your body collapse into the thin fabric. Ten minutes… Ten minutes was all you needed. Just to recharge and then you'd clean up any mess you left outside. Your eyes were blinking close and you could feel a heavy wave of sleep starting to wrap around you like it was the galaxy's best weighted blanket. The lovely embrace of unconsciousness so close… before you heard Peli screaming your name from the garage. It hadn't even been five minutes since laying down. Groggily sitting up you grabbed the pillow next to your head and screamed into it, before rushing to where your trade master was yelling from.
"Peli if this is about my tools laying out, I promise I'll pick them up after I-" As you swung open the screen door separating yourself from the cool interior of the home and the blistering Tatooine heat, you saw him for the first time.
You had to blink to take him all in. The midday suns reflected off his silver armor, hiding most of the intricate details of the metal suit, and bringing all attention to him. However, no matter how eyestrainingly reflective his armor was, it didn't stop you from noticing the arsonal attached to him. Tatooine was a dangerous place, you weren't unfamiliar with blasters or the violent sounds of distant fights that were only silenced by blaster fire… but the pulse rifle felt like a lot to you.
"There you are! You know I don't pay you to sit around and use all my cool air!" Peli shouted at you once you were finally in her sight. You shook your head and cleared the yard towards her.
"I'm allowed two thirty-minute breaks a day, Peli." You quip, sarcastic due to your lack of sleep. You did your best not to stare at the man towering over Peli. It wasn't hard to make the 5'1 woman seem short, but standing next to the 6ft mass of metal and weaponry she looked tiny.
"Mando here wanted to know how I did on his ship, had to tell him I wasn't the one who fixed it." she explains. You look back at the man next to your trade master.
"So…you're the one who doesn't like droids?" you joked, trying to get a read on the man. It was a fruitless endeavor because the longer you looked at his dark black visor, trying to find an expression beyond the helmet, the more the hairs on your arm stood. Something about looking at him directly felt akin to looking at a caged bantha… A whole lotta danger behind a thin amount of metal.
"Go show him your work kid. They did pretty well for a novice." Peli says, ripping your attention to the man in beskar. The comment made you raise an eyebrow at Peli.
Novice? You thought to yourself. You'd been working on and fixing machinery since you were 13. You only started apprenticing recently because you finally had made enough money to get out of your uncle's house. You went to go in for a rebuttal but-
"You waiting for an invitation kid? Go on!" She told you, shooing you towards the YT-1000. You sighed at Peli before nodding towards the craft and leading the Mandalorian to his ship.
"When you came in I was surprised you were able to fly this thing at all. I don't know what happened, but your ship sustained incredible damage." You started, going up to the docking panel and punching in a four-number code.
"I know you only came in to cover the fuel tank and to get the left engine fixed, but the longer I looked at her the more issues I found.", You looked back at him as the loading ramp lowered, again trying to find any emotional indication from him.
"It's impressive." his modulated voice finally told you. Your eyebrows raised not only from the unexpected cadence of his voice, for some reason you didn't think it would be so… artificial sounding, but also from the praise. Compliments were foreign to you, and from the way he said nothing else, you assumed the same for him.
"Yeah, well anyway…", after a moment's silence you cleared your throat and continued with the tour. However, continuing business as usual with a six-foot mass of metal and weaponry moving silently behind you was… hard to say the least. Distracting to say the most. You would think that a suit of full beskar armor would make some type of noise as it moved, but the only sounds that followed you as you made the rounds in the ship were footsteps only slightly louder than your own. He said nothing to you, save the occasional head nod when he seemed especially impressed by your craftsmanship, for the majority of the tour.
"I switched out the chairs in the cockpit. Peli told me that you're a solo pilot so I got rid of the broken copilot chair and installed the spare front center." you told him once you reached the front of the ship. It was then that he stepped in front of you and inspected the control panel.
"You have a lot of experience with pre-empire mech?" he asked as he looked at the myriad of buttons and switches in front of him. You shrugged your shoulders at the question before realizing he wasn't even looking at you.
"When I first started working with mechanics, all I had for reference was pre-empire schematics." you explained as he looked over your craftsmanship, flipping a few switches to hear the gentle hum of the engines.
"Water harvesters, generators, speeder bikes… that sorta stuff. This was my first ship.", You leaned against the door frame, the sliding door that blocked off the hallway placed in a storage closet now. You would have fixed the wiring in the door as well, but taking it out completely seemed like the cheaper option.
The Mandalorian reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small silver ball. He palmed it for a few moments as if contemplating something, before removing the handle to the lift-off lever and putting the silver ball in its place.
"I bought this ship second hand." his modulated voice finally spoke.
"…I'm still not used to it.", You didn't understand it at the time, but through the modulation in his voice, you thought you could hear a distant sadness. Like there had been a double meaning to his statement, but whatever it was went completely over your head.
"It's much bigger than my last vessel.", He flipped the engines off then turned to face you.
"I could use a second set of hands. Someone who is familiar with pre-empire mech." he told you. Upon hearing that sentence you straightened yourself up and cocked your head to the side.
"Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea. Managing a dual flight ship with no crew seems like a large task." you agreed. You were surprised that he had managed to fly it by himself for however long he had been, as well as bounty hunting. He nodded his head once to you in confirmation, his visor locked on you as if he was inspecting another part of the ship. Logical, objective, calculating, inspecting your "craftsmanship" as it were.
It was so strange. You grew up on Tatooine, the harsh climate and brutal people had made you stronger than the majority of offworlders. You've scrapped with people with vibro blades in their back pockets, muscled out drunks who manage to stumble into the work yard at night, you fully tracked down a Devoroni who skipped on his bill and when you found him you made his speeder completely unusable. Yet the unspeaking gaze of this Mandalorian, a warrior whom you've only read stories about, made you feel as small as Peli looked.
There were a few more moments steeped in silence where the two of you looked at each other before the intensity of his stare made you shift your feet and look down at the ground, the ever-growing need to find an escape from the intense stare of the Mandalorian making you fidgety.
"I'll… I'll go talk to Peli, and we can get your debt settled." You finally spoke, giving him a nod of recognition before you turned on your heels and left the room. You got maybe ten feet away before you heard his heavy boot steps following behind you.
"So how'd the tour go?" Peli asked once the loading dock was fully extended, you went to go answer her but per usual your input was cut off by her own voice.
"Did my apprentice live up to your expectations, Mando?", You looked back at the Mandalorian who now stood in the doorway, the near mirror-like quality of his armor not nearly as reflective now that he stood out of the direct sunlight. You could see marks, light scratches, but most importantly an emblem of some type of horned creature on his right pauldron.
The curt man nodded his head once at your trade before filling the air with silence as he seemingly pondered something. You looked back at Peli, wondering why the woman of a thousand words would be looking at him patiently and expectantly. But as soon as you thought that, the man dug into his utility belt and tossed a pouch full of credits to Peli who caught it with both hands.
"They're hired. Fill up the fuel tank, while they get their stuff." he stated before turning around and walking back into the ship.
"You got it, Mando!" Peli called back with a salute.
"Sorry?" You interjected, looking back at Peli.
"Hired?"
