"That's too high." Mando's grating voice complains as he watches you count out the credits inside the cockpit.

You scoff and look out the window at the small backwater town, "Seriously? It's reasonable! This isn't a popular fueling port."

"That's why they should be grateful for the business. I have to go fix this."

"Ha!" You whip around and take a step towards him, "The price will definitely go up for you, Mandalorian!"

He leans forward until he is inches away from your face, "Why's that?"

You stand your ground defiantly, "Well, one might say the locals here don't take too kindly to beskar."

His helmet inclines slightly as if to say 'go on'.

"Blame Fett. This was a common hiding spot for his quarries. Wearing the Wookies' braids draped over his shoulder like prizes earned him quite the reputation."

Mando stays looking down at you for a moment before shaking his head in clear distaste for Boba Fett's old habits. He doesn't push the issue any further so you stick your nose in the air and breeze past him to purchase the fuel.

Maker, how did the natives live here with all their fur? The humidity is sending beads of sweat sliding down your back as the Wookie accepts the credits from you. You can't imagine living in this hot jungle with a permanent coat. She turns to start on the Kestrel when a cold prickle on the back of your neck sets you on high alert. Someone or something is watching you. Inching your hand towards your blade, you narrow your focus on the threat creeping closer and closer. In the blink of an eye, you take a reverse grip on your knife and swing it towards where your approacher's neck will be. A young man stands before you as you stare down the barrel of a blaster. Huh, he looks like a kid. Taking advantage of your moment of hesitation, the boy uses the side of his weapon to strike you across your temple and you yelp as black dots darken your vision. A roar comes out of the Wookie as she nabs the firearm from the boy's hand. You wipe the blood from your brow while you watch the kid struggle against the claws of the merchant now holding him slightly suspended in the air.

"Thanks!" You smile at your helper and examine the boy. He's skinny, probably only around fifteen or so, and his messy blonde hair coupled with his sea green eyes makes him appear less threatening than he probably desires. A strange gurgle, sounding suspiciously like a laugh, escapes the Wookie when you point your knife at the boy's stomach.

"I won't hurt you if you tell me who you work for."

The boy's face turns crestfallen as he eyes your blade, "Crimson Dawn."

Of course in the moment the boy speaks those two magic words the Mandalorian decides to show up out of the ship. He draws his disruptor rifle and being the opportunistic mudcrutch that he is, asks the one question he's been dying to know the answer to.

"What's the bounty for?"

While the boy is definitely scared of you and the Wookie, the word petrified best describes his feelings towards Mando.

His lower lips trembles slightly as he stammers out an unconvincing fib, "I-I-I don't know."

Mando forces his weapon's pronged tip under the boy's chin menacingly.

"Please! Please! Don't! Absconding! It-it's for absconding!"

You swat at the Mandalorian's disintegrator and tell the Wookie it is safe to release the boy. As soon as his feet touch the ground the young man runs away in a panic and you cluck your tongue in disappointment. He will die when he goes back empty handed. Another soul lost to criminal life. A short growl from the Wookie regains your attention and you step protectively in front of Mando when you notice the aggressive stance the fuzzball has taken towards your armored companion. You tuck away your knife to hold up your palms in a sign of peace and the Wookie reluctantly backs down. She bares her teeth one last time at Mando before turning to fuel up the ship. Nothing ever goes smoothly for you, does it?

Something clicks in your brain as the Sterling Kestrel flies out of Kashyyyk's atmosphere into space. The kid who attacked you had a Banking Clan symbol on his necklace! If Mando had not threatened the boy so close to his throat, you would've never noted the small piece of jewelry. The Force really did seem to be willing you to walk alongside the Mandalorian right now.

You turn towards the pilot, "I have an idea of where to look for my lightsaber."

"Really? Where?"

"Cato Neimoidia."

He groans, "That's the Quellor sector."

"I know, but I might have a way to guarantee the trip isn't a waste of time."

"Ori'jate. Let's try."

You chew your lip as you think of a clever way to brush off the earlier encounter with the boy.

"Hey," Mando interrupts your thoughts and holds up a small pistol you've never seen him carry before, "Since leaving a mafia can be more dangerous than running from the Empire, you should probably carry this too."

You take the weapon and turn it over to inspect the gas cartridge.

Scrunching your nose you look fixedly into the Mandalorian's visor, "Blasters are so uncivilized."

His dramatic sigh is like music to your ears.


Tatooine

You are in the middle of an excellent round of Corellian Spike when Fett throws you a credit pouch with more than enough Calamari to compensate you for your time.

"Good job. Here's your payment."

"I'd say it was a pleasure, but I wasn't exactly given a choice," you take out a Flan and add it to your bet.

"Yet, you struck a deal with the Mand'alor and plan on sticking around." There is a strange undertone to his words. Something you can't quite put your finger on.

You look up from your cards, "Will you help me reach the man I need on Cato Neimoidia?"

"I will if you promise me one thing."

"Maybe," you tap your fingers nervously against your thigh as you think about your next play.

"Next time, just tell me the syndicate wants your head."

The Trandoshan sitting across from you lays her cards down with a smug look. This koochoo thinks she's about to win.

You sneer at her hand as you reply to Fett, "Oh come on. Look how you used the Imperial bounty against me. Besides, Crimson Dawn doesn't give fobs to the guild right now so it's not usually a problem anyway."

"Yeah, they send their personal hunters instead," he smacks your shoulder. "I'll give you a Krayt pearl. Very valuable and extremely rare. The man you seek will be interested in buying, but I can't promise he will tell you anything useful."

"I'm not planning on asking for information."

You place your Idiot's Array on the table and obnoxiously scoop your winnings towards you. The Trandoshan curses and storms off from her lost game as a few of the spectators cry out against your victory.

Fett's voice rasps in your ear, "You owe me another favor now, since I'm sure my contact won't be doing anymore trades with me once you are done with him. Which is fine, I do like having you in my debt."

Standing from the table you link an arm around Fett's elbow, "Jabba taught you well."

"Fennec taught me well."

"Where is she anyway?"

"Busy."

"Good talk. I'm going to get refreshed. What room can I have?"

"You don't want to share with the Mand'alor?"

Your jaw drops for a split second, but you bounce back, "Careful bounty hunter, you almost sound jealous at the idea."

"I prefer women who carry blasters," Fett drops your arm as you reach the base of the stairs leading to the guest quarters.

"I bet you do. Big kriffing sniper rifles, apparently." With a wicked smirk, you pull out the pistol Mando gave you earlier, "Although, I do carry one now, so I suppose you might have something to be jealous about after all."

Boba snickers as you bow in a graceful exit and you glide upstairs to take the first room you find unlocked. At least someone around here appreciates your humor.

A steamy shower and a decent meal later you decide to go check on your ship docked in hangar 77. The mechanic Fett promised would fix up the vessel is lying underneath a landspeeder deep in concentration when you step inside the workshop. You glance around and see no sign of the yacht you've been piloting for eleven months. She's a decent ship, nothing like the Kestrel, but she always got you where you needed to go. She could outrun most hunters and she never drew eyes on the planets you landed on.

"Where's my ship?" You ask the mechanic when he finally pauses his work to look at you.

He sets down his tools and scowls, "Your ship? You mean the ship you stole from Pakto. His cronies reclaimed her two days after you left."

You bristle and take a threatening step towards the man, "You little moof milker! You just gave them the ship? He's a warlord!"

"And you're a thief. Now get out of my hangar before I break your pretty little face, schutta."

Snarling, you reach out and yank the man's collar, "Schutta? You kath-mutt! How about I break your karking neck, you kriffing spoggick?"

In the middle of your profanity riddled statement, Mando passes by the hangar and stops to watch you threatening Fett's mechanic. He steps in to intervene when you move your grip from the mechanics collar to his throat. Placing a gloved hand around your wrist, he squeezes so tightly your fingers spasm, forcing you to let go of the sleemo.

"Take your hand off me, utreekov."

He grabs your other wrist to prevent you from getting your knife, "Let it go. Fett told him to give up the ship."

"This is a kriffing cartel! Everyone has stolen ships!" You shake your arms in aggravation.

Mando tightens his grasp, "You didn't need it anyway."

"What am I supposed to do once our little mission is complete and you leave me with no transportation again?" You hiss through your teeth.

"When you need a ship, I will make sure you have one." Mando promises as he lets go of your already bruising wrists. He flicks a credit towards the seething mechanic, likely assuming the payment will diffuse the tension.

Rubbing the credit greedily, the mechanic makes the mistake of trying to get one last insult in, "Schutta, I'll make sure to tell Fett to tighten your leash the nex-" A nauseating crack from the man's jaw as your fist smashes into his face shouldn't make you smile, but it does.

Notes:

Mando'a Translations:

Ori'jate - very good

Utreekov- fool, idiot (lit. empty head)

Other Translations:

Schutta - extremely derogatory Twi'lekian insult roughly equivalent to whore