Guys please message me if you've seen 'the Believer'! I'm still so hyped and I cannot wait for the season finale!

One thing I wanted to mention is...these chapters are gonna be huge if I put each episode as one chapter. Is that ok with you guys or should I split them up about halfway through? Lemme know!

I'll split up the episode this time, but if y'all want to read the episode insertions as their own chapters, let me know and I'll give y'all the full insertions instead.

God Bless and Happy Holidays!

~The Lupine Sojourner

I change into my thicker flightsuit when we get close to Mando Kreis and grab my cold weather gloves.

"You wanna run point?" I ask, as always. If the mission was a stealthier endeavor, I usually ran point, since I was lighter and quieter than Din.

But usually Din ran point since he was 'in charge' and always wanted to protect me.

Din predictably shakes his head. "I'm on point. Should be quick and easy. In fact, you stay by the door in case this hotshot gets desperate and tries to run."

I sigh. This is how it went with us. He always phrased it as a good thing, as something helpful or whatever, but he really just wants me out of danger.

Which is ridiculous. We're Mandalorian bounty hunters. We face danger every single day and emerge fairly unscathed every time.

I wasn't a child he needed to overprotect.

But I knew from when we were just starting out in the galaxy and I'd talked to Din about it that it would hurt him to continue bringing it up, so I keep it bottled up.

We touch down and there's a few rickety landspeeders there to take us into the town our quarry was in.

So we hop on and don't talk to the pilot. He doesn't seem to want to talk to us so it works out fine.

We pay him a few credits for his time and walk into town, the beeping of the tracker guiding us.

"Of course he's in a bar." I grumble, rolling my eyes when we arrive at the building our bounty was in.

"This'll be easier than I thought." Din replies, and opens the door.

Instantly, quiet falls inside the small, seedy bar.

To our right, we see our quarry being menaced by what look like trawlers.

Thugs, easily dealt with. Even though there were four or five trawlers that were more than likely to fight, Din would probably still want me by the door, so I stay there as he approaches the bar, not wanting to give away why we're here just yet.

One of the trawlers growls at us in Huttese, but I don't care enough to mentally translate it.

"Hey, Mando!" He then growls, and I start listening, hand hovering on my pistol. Din's hand subtly makes a 'stay' gesture so I make myself appear to relax, though I was ready if these guys try anything. "I said you spilled my drink!" So that's what he said earlier.

"He says you spilled his drink." The barkeep translates in Basic when Din refuses to say anything.

The apparent leader of the trawlers nods to his cronies and they come over, leaving our Mythrol alone at the table.

"It's fine." The barkeep offers placatingly. "It's on me." He grabs a new drink of whatever the leader had been drinking.

"Is that real Beskar Steel?" I grip my pistol stock, ready to draw it as the thugs menace my brother, one shoulder checking him and the other scratching a knife off Din's durasteel chestplate.

I have to seriously restrain myself from attacking. Din hated it when I involved myself prematurely on his behalf. He said he was protecting me, not the other way around.

"Here." The barkeep calls, and slides the drink toward the leader, but Din chooses to catch it, using it as a kind of blunt weapon, smashing the canister into the leader's face. Din then uses his arms to shove the others away and it's all downhill from there. Din twists the leader's arm all the way back and drives the knife the man holds into the leader's back, letting him fall as a Mon Calamari trawler tries to run.

I casually trip him with my fibrocord launcher, yanking him back toward me, which is not as easy as it sounds.

The Calamari makes the desperate and fatal mistake of shooting my pauldron, which withstands the shot easily. Din shoots the door's controls and the door shuts...with the Calamari halfway through it.

"You always make a mess." I tease as I walk over with Din toward our quarry.

"He shot you." Is Din's short retort. I smirk, then turn to the Mythrol.

He seems to think we're here to rescue him, laughing and resuming his seat. "Thank you." he says, smiling. "Thank you very much!" He gathers some credits I assume were his, still smiling in relief. "You have my heartfelt gratitude." Din says nothing and the Mythrol starts to look nervous. "You know what?" He slides the credits toward us. Hardly enough for much of anything. "You take my credits, buy yourselves drinks." I roll my eyes.

Just what game did he think we were playing here?

I tilt my head. "I wouldn't celebrate if I were you." I muse wryly as Din brings out the puck we'd added his picture to from the files Karga sent.

"...Oh. Is that a bounty puck?" the Mythrol asks nervously.

"Mm-hmm." I reply, unable to help it.

"Is that me?"

"What do you think?" I snap.

"Enough." Din interjects.

"Look, uh...there must be some mistake." The Mythrol tries desperately. "I can get you more credits."

I snort, but leave it to Din after I'd said my piece.

Din's hand hovers over his pistol. "I can bring you in warm...or I can bring you in cold."

I grab a pair of cuffs off my belt and toss them onto the table. "Be smart for once. Cuff yourself and come with us."

"..." The Myhtrol, shockingly, takes a moment to look between Din and I before slumping in defeat as Din grabs the puck. "Yeah alright."

"Smart Mythrol." I snark, shoving him forward as Din leads the way.

That was another thing Din always did; when we'd gotten the target and were heading back for the Crest, Din always led the way, no matter what.

We made our way in silence to the dock where the landspeeders would pick us up.

The ferryman is a Kubazian, and he stands as we arrive. I think he asks 'how can I help you?', but my Kubazian is...very bad.

"We need passage to the yards." Din explains. Maybe I was right…

The ferryman plays a carrying note on a weird flute thing and a clean, decent-looking speeder rolls up.

Only problem is…it's piloted by a droid. I've come to accept that, unless they're Imperial droids or Bounty Hunter droids, they weren't too bad.

Din however hates all droids and turns to the ferryman. "No droids." He growls.

"I assure you, this speeder is brand new. It's the latest model." The ferryman says, but Din isn't listening, tossing a few credits to the ferryman and the ferryman pockets it. "At your pleasure."

...How did I just translate all of that? Guess I pick up a few things, traveling the galaxy. Still, I surprised myself.

The next speeder is a really rickety one with a human pilot. It nearly breaks down as it comes to a stop in front of us.

I grimace, knowing it was hidden behind my helmet.

"Where to?"

"The yards." Din replies.

Reluctantly, we climb inside. The speeder takes off and I get the feeling we might not make to the shipyard.

But we do. I just hope we make it to the Crest in one piece.

I notice the pilot is scanning the yards with binoculars, probably for the Ravinaks this planet is famous for. Ice worm-type creatures that prey on those foolish enough to wander over their territory.

They're the main reason there aren't a lot of visitors to Mando Kreis. Well...that, and it's kriffing cold here!

"You know what he's searching for, right?" The Mythrol asks, then leans toward the pilot. "You're looking for Ravinaks, right?"

"Do you think we're all idiots?" I growl, shoving him back into his seat. "We're on the ice of Mando Kreis. Of course he's looking for Ravinaks!"

"It's clear right now." The pilot calls back over the wind. "But be careful near the port. Everyone dumps their Grey Holds out. They think the whole entire planet is their own personal stink pit."

We pull up to the Razor Crest and it's clear the Mythrol is not at all impressed.

"Here you are." The pilot says as we come to a stop.

"C'mon." I growl, hopping out and trying not to land too loudly on the ice.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Don't insult the ship, just get out!" I yank the Mythrol up and he reluctantly steps toward the Crest.

"I'll hire us a livery cruiser. No big deal. Won't come out of your end. I'll pay for it." The Mythrol continues as Din and I march him toward the ship.

"Would you just shut up?" I had had enough of this guy's constant chatter.

"Just trying to make it pleasant." He retorts.

"It'd be more pleasant if you kept your mouth shut." I snarl, shoving the Myhtrol to the Crest as Din and the pilot settled up.

"I'd stay off the ice if I were you." Is the pilot's final words to us as he pulls away.

"You think there's really something to worry about?" The Mythrol asks worriedly.

"Not if you board the damn ship." I give him another shove and he finally walks toward the boarding ramp.

That is, until we see a Ravinak break the ice and eat the pilot and speeder that had taken us here. "Dank ferrick!" I curse, grabbing my taserstaff off my right shoulder. "Din, fire up the ship! We got incoming!"

"You fire it up! I'll handle the- -" Din's cut off as the thing manages to catch us off guard, appearing very close now. So close, in fact, the thing bites onto one of the landing gear legs as we scramble aboard.

"This thing ain't eating our ship!" I growl, preparing to taze it when Din cuts me off.

"I told you to fire up the ship! Plus you need to keep an eye on the Mythrol." I toss him my staff, as there was no point arguing, and head up the ramp, gritting my teeth. I could help if he wasn't so overprotective!

I yank the Mythrol over to the ladder to the cockpit and he hurriedly but awkwardly climbs up. I scurry after him and shove our bounty into a seat, flipping switches with the other hand.

"Dank ferrick, that was close!" He squeaks. I don't reply, continuing to power up the ship. "'Stay off the ice'." He grumbles with a scoff. "Understatement of the millennium!" The ship finally starts whirring to life. "It's gonna take us under!" He squeaks when flying is hindered and Din doesn't reappear. "What's he doing down there?"

"Probably not asking stupid questions. Now shut up or I'll find something to gag you with." I snap back, finishing the power up sequence and we slowly rise a little bit.

The Mythrol, I now notice, is at the window looking down, but I don't have a free hand to yank him back into the seat as I hear the Ravinak roaring and suddenly flying's a lot easier.

Seconds later, Din is entering the cockpit, and I move to let him sit in the pilot seat.

No one says anything for a few seconds as we fly out of Mando Kreis' atmosphere.

"I like your ship. She's a classic." Of course he broke the silence.

I grit my teeth in a vain attempt to rein my frustration in. "No you don't. You wanted to hire a livery cruiser just because you didn't like our ship." I retort and he shuts his mouth.

For only a few precious seconds. "Razor Crest, am I right? Pre-Empire?"

I let out a long groan. "Look, this trip will be far less painful for everyone if you just zip it." I grumble.

That buys me about ten seconds of silence. "...How much are they paying you?" He asks.

"None of your concern." I growl.

"Is it true you guys never take off your helmets?"

"If you don't stop asking stupid questions, I am going to lock you in the sanitation closet." I threaten.

"Stop talking to him." Din suggests, and I sigh.

"Yeah I know."

About a minute goes by and I think we've finally shut this guy up.

Then…

"I think I have to use the vac-tube."

"Damnit." I hiss under my breath, but I refuse to engage in his pointless conversations any longer, so I merely cross my arms and try to imagine what kind of reward we'll get from the Armorer, if we get anything at all. We've not been bringing a lot of Beskar into the Tribe lately, so I doubt we'll- -

"I mean, I could do it here, but if you've never seen a Fledgling Mythrol exacuate his thorax...you're lucky Mandos, believe me."

"Mandalorians." I correct.

"What?"

"Mandalorians. It's not that hard to say." I growl, then shut up again.

"C-can I go use the vac-tube?" He presses. "I mean, clearly there's nowhere for me to go, so uh...I'm gonna look for that vac-tube if it's all the same to you two?" I settle down in my seat like I was going to take a nap, but don't reply.

Din focuses on piloting.

The Mythrol takes that as dismissal and leaves the cockpit.

"Dank ferrick he's annoying." I grumble.

"We'll deliver him to Moff Gideon soon." He says.

"Are you gonna jump to lightspeed?" I ask as the Mythrol calls up that he found the vac-tube and starts blabbing about something, but I don't care enough to pay attention.

"This Crest's nava-computer is on the fritz again. It's going to take a minute or two to make the calculations. Just hang on." I nod.

"Well, since there's nothing else to do, I'm gonna go freeze that idiot before he does something stupid."

Even before I hop down into the main area, I can hear him rummaging around, followed by him typing on the keypad for various cabinets and closets in the Crest. He opens the weapons closet, sees the multitude of weapons inside, and closes it, I see as I peek down. I like to make them think I was still in the cockpit before I jump em.

"Oh, this feels so much better." I hear him call, still wondering around the main area. "I haven't evacuated since the solstice." I drop down silently when he moves away from the ladder, creeping toward him. "I was hoping to be free for, uh, Life Day." He continues, as if Din couldn't hear his voice moving around down below and know what he's up to. I could see him wandering over to the carbonite slabs of our other bounties. Predictably, he's shocked. "Maybe even get home...to see the...family." He breaths, trying to continue his charade of 'clearing his thorax'. "But I guess that's not gonna happen this year."

"This would've been so much easier if you'd just shut up and stayed in the cockpit." I growl, grabbing his shirt and hauling him over to the carbonite chamber. "Now I gotta freeze you just to shut you up." He screams as his body freezes, but he's finally silent.

=#=#=#=#=

We land in our usual spot and walk through the town, ignoring everyone as we make our way to the bounty hunter cantina to collect our reward.

As usual, as soon as we enter, the mood shifts into a darker, more suspicious atmosphere. That's the price of being the best; everyone hates you and wants to kill you to take your spot.

"Ah, that was fast." Greef Karga greets. "Did you catch them all?" Din doesn't verbally reply, simply putting the trackers on the table. Karga takes only a moment to double check them then he nods. "Good. I'll begin the off-load." He calls a few hunters in Huttese to get our slabs off our ship, and they go.

I let out a soft sigh as we sit down, my taserstaff in my hands and Din's pulse rifle beside him.

The taserstaff was about as long as Din's pulse rifle, with the same pronged attachment to the end. It delivers the same nasty shock Din's taser attachment does.

Moments like these, with Din talking to Karga, weren't bad. I could doze for a minute while Din and Karga haggle over the reward.

This time, apparently, Karga wants to pay us in Imperial Credits.

He should know by now we don't accept them. Never did, even before the Empire fell.

Karga tried to argue that 'they still spend', but Din was adamant.

When Din threatens to take back the trackers and go haggle with someone else, Karga gives us half the totaled reward, in Calamari Flan no less. Ugh.

It was better than Imperial Credits, but not by much.

Now came the part where I gotta pay a bit more attention; Karga takes out his current active pucks.

"Hmm...a bail jumper, a bail jumper, another bail jumper, and a wanted smuggler." Sounds far too easy for us, but we need the money for us and the Tribe.

"We'll take them all." Din says, reaching for the pucks, but Karga refuses to give them all.

"No. Hold on." He says. "There are other members of the Guild, and this is all I have."

"If they can't cut it, they shouldn't be in the Guild." I grumble softly, crossing my arms. Din makes a 'calm down' gesture with his hand and turns to Karga.

"Why so slow?" He asks.

"Not slow at all, actually. Very busy. They just don't want to pay Guild rates. They don't mind if things get sloppy."

Typical.

"What's your highest bounty?" Din asks.

Karga sighs. "Not much. 5000."

"That won't cover fuel these days." Din complains.

"Got anything else?" I ask, unable to help it.

Karga thinks for a long moment, then finally clicks his tongue. "There is...one job." At this, a few nearby hunters start paying close attention to our table. Must be something good.

"Let's see the puck." Din says, but Karga shakes his head.

"No puck." He explains and despite knowing he can't see it, I tilt my head and raise a brow. "Face to face. Direct commision. Deep pocket"

"Sounds interesting." I'd decided to add more to these conversations, whether Din liked it or not.

Deep pocket means more reward. More reward means maybe new armor pieces from the Armorer.

"Underworld?" Din asks, giving nothing of his emotions away. I can't tell if that's good or bad but turn to Karga as he replies.

"All I know is, no chain code." He explains, reaching for something in a pocket.

It's a chit. This client must be really desperate to keep this on the down low. "Do you want the chit or not?" Karga asks, knowing full well we'd take it.

Din swipes it and we stand, putting our weapons back on our shoulders. "A pleasure, Karga." I call back as we leave. "What do you think?" I ask, unable to contain my curiosity, when we're outside the cantina.

"I don't know. No chain code is suspicious, so is the face-to-face meeting, but we need a high-paying job. This Calamari Flan is not enough to make much difference to the Tribe."

"I know." I reply softly as we walk. No one ever really paid attention to us after we got established as bounty hunters. At first, there were whispers, unashamed pointing and staring, even a few drunk or high hunters who wanted to 'test what they heard about Mandalorians'. Nothing we couldn't handle, but after about two year...they stopped.

Soon, we reach the coordinates on the chit and Din knocks on the door.

A Huttese greeter droid (if that's what they're called) pops out, asking what we wanted in Huttese. Din showed the chit, and it retreats. A different droid greets us, turning around to lead us to our client.

"I don't like this." I murmur softly to Din. That model droid was used by the Empire, but surely any Imperial remnants wouldn't be on Nevarro, right?

"Just stay behind me." Din replies just as softly.

The longer we walk, the harder it is to keep going. Something in my gut is telling me I should run, and I'm really tempted to do so.

But I manage to stay with Din, behind him like he said, and finally we arrive, the door opening to reveal- -

Oh, by the Creator himself! What the hell are Imperials doing here?!

I halt for a few precious seconds, but the Imperials make no move to attack.

I glance subtly at Din, who walks forward after a few more seconds.

"Greef Karga said you were coming." A sophisticated male voice calls, and I see an older man in Imperial dress sitting at a table with two chairs opposite him.

I feel increasingly uneasy as we walk toward him.

Every inch of me wants to back out, either simply leaving the job for the piteous other non-Imperial bounties, or getting in the Razor Crest and blasting this building to pieces.

But as long as Din is hearing them out, I can't do anything. I'm stuck.

So I grit my teeth and force myself to keep walking and try to make it look normal.

"What else did he say?" If you know Din like I do, you'd know he's as angry as I am at being faced with Imperials and having to consider working for them.

But if we tried to back out now...we might not be able to make it out, much as I hate to admit it. We don't know how many stromtroopers are in this building, and we don't know the layout. We'd be at a disadvantage and they know that.

"He said you two made the best team in the parsec." The client continues. Did he know beforehand that we were Mandalorian? I wonder. Is this a trap?

Just as we were nearing the table, there's a side door opening and Din and I instantly react, me automatically covering Din's back with my pistol and pulse shotgun as he whips out his pulse sniper rifle and blaster.

If this is a trap, we'll go down fighting, like a Mandalorian should.

"Freeze!" A stormtrooper orders, his blaster pointed at my chest.

I glance over and see that the newcomer is some sort of officer, by the look of it, cowering back as Din's pulse rifle is trained on him. "No!" He shouts, almost a squeak.

"Drop your weapons!" Another stormtrooper barks. Obviously, we don't.

"No nonono, sorry. Pardon, uh...sorry." The new officer stammers, standing mostly upright now, holding what looks like a tracking fob. "I didn't mean to alarm."

"Too late for that." I growl low.

The client holds up his hands placatingly, standing from the table. "This is Doctor Pershing. Please excuse his lack of decorum. His enthusiasm outweighs his discretion." He explains. "Please lower your blaster."

I grit my teeth. No way in hell!

"Have them lower theirs first." Din retorts.

"We could drop them easily." I add. "Make the smart move."

"We have you four to two." A stormtrooper idiotically points out.

"We're Mandalorians. All we have to do is shoot twice and you're all dead." I growl back.

"I like our odds." Din concludes, not giving an inch.

The client walks over close to Din. "He also said you were expensive. Very expensive." He indicates the chairs at the table. "Please sit."

At a motion from the client, the stormtroopers slowly lower their weapons. I don't lower mine til I see Din lowering his.

Reluctantly, we put our weapons away and walk over to sit at the table, my taserstaff in my hand and Din's pulse rifle across his lap. There's something almost comforting about the way it lightly presses against my leg.

The client reaches over and unwraps something I just notice on the table.

I draw in a breath as quietly as I can when I see what it is.

"Beskar?" Din asks, as if unable to believe what he's seeing.

"Go ahead. It's real." The client assures us. Din picks it up to examine it, then hands it to me after a few moments.

Yeah...it's real Beskar alright. Probably leftover from the Great Purge, when these animals decided to wipe Mandalorians from the galaxy.

"Normally, I would not offer this type of reward, much less so much of it," The client continues, "but this is only a down payment. There are two camtonos of beskar waiting for you upon the delivery of the asset. One for each of you."

Yeah, Karga told them two Mandalorians were coming.

My question is...how many Mandalorians had to die to collect two camtonos of Beskar?!

"Alive." Dr. Pershing adds, bringing me back to the present situation.

"Yes, alive." The client confirms, but sounds almost annoyed by the stipulation. Just what are we getting ourselves into here? "Although, I acknowledge, bounty hunting is a complicated profession." The client continues, "That being the case, proof of termination is acceptable for a lower fee."

I gulp. These people don't care, do they? Another reason I hate the Empire so much.

"That is not what we agreed upon." Dr. Pershing replies, almost panicked.

"I'm simply being pragmatic." The client assures him, leaning back in his chair as if we were discussing the weather, not whether or not a living thing should die or not.

So maybe Dr. Pershing cares a little, but obviously not enough to let this poor target live in peace.

"Let's see the puck." Din says. I truly hate the thought of working for these scumbags, but I can't deny a rising curiosity about just what kind of being could make these people so desperate to get it that they would pay two whole camtonos of Beskar to ensure it's delivery.

Typically if a client is offering this high a bounty, they wanted the target killed quietly, but not this time.

"I'm afraid discretion dictates a less traditional agreement." The client replies, leaning forward. "We can only offer you a tracking fob."

I frown. This just keeps getting weirder.

Dr. Pershing steps forward and hands Din the fob he'd been holding. After examining it briefly, Din stows it on his belt. "What's the chain code?" Din asks.

"We can only provide the last four digits."

"Their age?" Din asks, and if I could see his face, I'm sure his brow is raised. "That's all you can give us?"

The client nods. "Yes. They're 50 years old."

And these Imperial leftovers are really desperate to get this thing back.

"We can also give you last reported positional data. Between that and the fob, hunters of your skills should make short work of this."

Eager to leave, Din stands. I stand too. The rare times we have to meet clients face to face, I sometimes bowed as we left.

But I'd never bow to these scum. Never.

"The Beskar belongs back in the hands of Mandalorians." The client calls, and I can't tell if he's being genuine or if he's screwing with us.

He does remember the Great Purge right? That wasn't lost to history already, right?

"It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don't you agree?" I grit my teeth to prevent me saying or doing something that would likely get us killed and make myself walk after Din without so much as a backward glance.

Dank farrik that man is- -he just- -he does realize his precious Empire slaughtered Mandalorians and caused this 'disarray', doesn't he?

I didn't realize how tense I was until we were back in the fresh air outside. I relax and take a deep breath, rolling my shoulders.

"What the hell was that?!" I snap. "He does realize Imperials are the ones that took the Beskar from us, right? He remembers the Great Purge doesn't he?"

"He was trying to get under our skin more than likely, testing us. Don't let it get to you."

I let out a loud and long sigh. "What the hell did we get ourselves into?" I ask rhetorically as we head for the Crest.

We were in this way too deep to get out now without serious repercussions. Something told me we'd regret taking this job...

Part two should be up fairly soon! Stay tuned! :)