The instant he sees her, he knows who she is and the sight of her now, standing on this backwater planet with a chain around her throat makes a quick rush of panic pulse through his chest. He almost doesn't believe his eyes and he blinks a few times, watching her through the tinted T of his helmet.
She looks different. Worse. Her hair is the same dark shade, a bit longer and unkempt as if it hadn't been washed in a while. She's thinner than the last time he spoke to her and for some reason, that shifted the panic inside him to anger.
The rusting chain attached to her neck is pulled taut and she tries-and fails-to resist as the meaty hand at the other end wraps the links around and around it, dragging her closer. She stumbles forward suddenly and her thighs hit the table tucked into the darkened corner of the cantina, knocking a few glasses and spilling the ale. The man holding her chain reaches up and strokes her cheek continuing to her jaw, down to her chest, and lower.
Mando's fists tighten at his side. He can only watch as she's blatantly groped in front of the crowd of assorted drunks. He blinks again, just to make sure he isn't seeing things that aren't really there, but she doesn't fade away like a mirage. She's still there, still resisting against the chain around her throat and the hand that has started to slip between her legs.
He steps around a rather drunk Devaronian whose head is currently propped up on the bar by the tip of its black horns. A small quartet of musicians is switching songs behind the bar as Mando steps closer to where a Rodian bartender is wiping a dirty rag over a pint glass. He regards the bounty hunter with a glance, his back stiffens but doesn't offer much else.
Not that Mando wants a drink. What he's wanting is information.
"Who is that?" the bounty hunter asks with a nod of his helmet toward the corner where she's now being forced into the lap of the rotund human man. He pulls her hair back and though Mando can't see her face, he knows by the tension in her body that she's grimacing in disgust.
The Rodian didn't glance back to the table, probably doesn't have to, before his enormous black eyes narrowed a bit. "Are you trying to cause trouble in my bar?"
"That depends on who they are."
With a sigh, the bartender lowers the rag he's using and leans closer to Mando. "The round one's Moro. He practically runs this port so if you're looking to stay alive, he's not the one to mess with."
"And the girl?"
At this, the Rodian turns back to look at the table and makes a strange sound in the back of his throat. A mix between a laugh and a sigh, Mando guesses.
"Some slave. Came in a while ago and didn't get far before Moro snatched her up. He goes through them rather fast."
By now, the anger in Mando's chest is pulsing in time to his quickening heartbeat and he stares past the circular bar in the center of the room to where she's still sitting in the man's lap. The skirt, if the thin strips of fabric could even be called that, on her hips is threadbare and doesn't offer much protection against the roaming hands snaking down her backside. She tries to shift away from him but is quickly, and roughly returned to her previous place astride his lap.
It's frustrating to watch. What happened to the fiery, sharp-tongued girl he left behind nine months ago? His imagination runs wild with horrible things that turn his stomach and make his fists clench tighter at his sides. The curve of his blaster holster touches his knuckles and he has to tell himself not to grab at his weapon. Not yet.
Before the Rodian can turn away, Mando addresses him once again. "Do you know her name?"
"You think I'm stupid enough to talk to one of Moro's girls?" And with that, he returns to swabbing the dirty dishrag over the glasses and leaves the bounty hunter to continue staring.
Time ticks by slowly but he doesn't feel impatient. He's played the waiting game many times before and this is no different. He didn't survive all these years by being rash and impulsive. If it took all night, the Mandalorian would wait. Fortunately for him, it didn't take that much longer.
For nearly an hour, he sits exactly where he is on the opposite side of the bar, watching from behind his helmet. It's hard for him to endure, seeing her being pawed at and handled so roughly, and several times he fights the urge to pull his blaster out and fire a shot right through Moro's head. But if the guy is as infamous as the Rodian had said, Mando knew that doing that would bring more heat than he wanted to take on at the moment.
When the man finally stands to his feet, he jerks the chain around her throat so hard, she lets out a cry that Mando can hear over the incessant music still playing. In the back of his mind, he urges her to fight back, do something. At seeing her lack of fight he realizes whatever she's been through the last several months since they've seen each other has done its damage.
And though his purpose in stopping at this port was to refuel and buy a few supplies, he can't leave now knowing this is her life now.
As the two of them leave the cantina, Mando stands to his feet and slips out behind them, careful to keep enough distance between them to not raise suspicions. The noises of the cantina begin to fade away the further he follows them. Even in the dark, he can see the chain is pulled taut with her struggling to keep up.
Moro turns a corner between two market stalls, belching loudly as he leads her, right behind him, never letting go of the hold he has on her. In the back of his mind, Mando knows he has no business following this person and that if he wasn't nearly positive she's the same girl he met months before, he wouldn't have given them a second glance. But knowing it could be her, that it more than likely is her, the need to do something nags at him.
It sits on his chest like an open wound from a blaster, burning into his skin down to the fibers of his muscles. If he leaves without knowing for sure, he'll never be able to stop thinking about it.
He has to be sure before he leaves.
That's all this is, he tells himself. Just checking in to make sure she's alright.
Even as he lies to himself, he knows she isn't. He'd have to be blind to not see the way she struggled against her bindings or the way her entire body tensed up whenever that man laid a finger on her. She's being hurt and knowing he might be the reason why she's in this current predicament makes Mando's stomach clench tight.
He continues to follow them, sticking close to the shadows beneath the overhang of the buildings. For someone as infamous as Moro, he doesn't seem to suspect anyone of harming him at such a late hour of the night. Then again, maybe his reputation has secured his safety for so long he's grown careless. Which is fortunate for the Mandalorian.
There's mumbling coming from the pair up ahead and Mando slides into a hiding place behind several crates stacked up next to the building beside him. From his position, he can't hear what the man is saying but he can tell by her body language that it isn't friendly. Moro jerks the chain in his fist and sends her sprawling toward him. She falls against his chest and he snakes an arm around her waist, reaching across to take hold of her elbow.
Mando nearly steps out from behind his hiding place at the sight, fighting the bile quickly rising into his throat. When he sees Moro tilt his head back and laugh, he hesitates and stays in the shadows. And once again, she's dragged onward through the streets of the port town.
They stop outside a rather large building compared to the ones surrounding it and Mando hangs back a few yards to watch. Two guards stand watch near the door and clutch blasters to their chest. Moro drags her into the doorway between them and after it shuts Mando lets out a small sighing breath that fogs his visor.
He shouldn't be doing this.
She isn't any of his business and he's got a job to do.
Before he can turn and leave, he lets out a curse under his breath and shakes his head, knowing no matter how much he tells himself that, he won't believe it. She may not be his business, but there's no way he can leave now. He moves quietly toward the building, but even if he had stomped up to the guards, he doubts they would have been prepared for him. They were easy to dispose of with a quick blast to each of their heads and as they crumple to the ground, he hits the door release panel on the side of the wall. It slides open with a quick hiss of the mechanics and he ducks inside.
The darkness of the hallway is welcome and Mando quickly scans his surroundings. Two doors to the left, one to the right and a stairwell at the end of the narrow corridor. From the second floor, he hears the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh- hard, feet stumble over the floor and there's a sharp cry that follows soon after.
His fist curls tighter around the blaster as he moves toward the stairs, keeping an eye on the doors he passes just in case. By the time he reaches the stairs, Moro's words reach his ears, all but confirming Mando's previous assumptions.
"...don't get to tell me no, whore." The chain rattles and something heavy drags across the floor. "Have you forgotten what happens to those who disobey me?"
"No-" The word is barely out of her lips before another slap rings out. When she speaks again, her voice is struggling to stay steady despite her shaking breath. "No, sir."
Mando nears the top of the stairs and glances back to make sure he's still alone. The way the room above him is situated, he won't be able to get a good look at the surroundings until he's inside it. It isn't ideal, but he's faced worse before.
"Tha's a good girl," Moro snarls. His voice is accompanied by the rattling of the chain and what sounds like a zipper being yanked down. "Now show me how much you 'preciate my generosity."
The tone of his voice makes Mando's lip curl in disgust. He's heard enough. By the sound of things, they should be the only two in the room, but it isn't a guarantee. After hearing briefly about the type of person Moro is, Mando can't count out the possibility that there weren't any guards in there, watching whatever is about to happen.
It doesn't matter. Moro isn't going to get too far tonight.
Mando grips his blaster tightly and moves up the final two steps, emerging into the faint light glowing from a few bare bulbs on the ceiling. Just as he had suspected, three guards are standing at various points of the room, and each of them has their eyes glued to what she was currently doing.
He sees out of the corner of his gaze that she's on her knees and can tell her hands are reaching for Moro's crotch, but he doesn't focus on it for long. The blaster raises and with a squeeze of his finger, a bolt is shot through the head of the guard closest to him. The body crumples limply to the ground and the other two quickly snatch their weapon to defend their boss.
A droid stands up in the corner of the room and Mando takes care of it easily with a well-aimed shot, turning as bits of metal explode out of its head. He ducks to the left as a bright blast pings off the beskar on his right shoulder. While the guard who fired is readjusting his shot, Mando makes quick work of him.
Moro is shouting and retreating behind an overturned table that Mando knows wouldn't stop a blast from penetrating it, but Moro still has the girl and that puts the bounty hunter in a sticky situation. He won't risk shooting her.
The last guard abandons his blaster and rushes Mando with an outdated electro-staff. It swings wildly down in an arc, aimed at his head, and Mando throws up his arm, letting the bulk of the blow hit his vambrace. He twists his arm around the staff taking hold of it. With one quick jerk, the guard stumbles forward and Mando points his blaster beneath his chin, squeezing a single round off before dropping the body with a heavy thud.
In the silence, he turns back to the overturned table and takes a single step. Every muscle in his body is coiled tight, ready to make the shot that will take Moro out. He comes to a stop several paces away and waits. It isn't long before the pervert speaks up.
"Well?" He demands with a crazed lilt at the end of his word. "Is the Mandalorian dead?"
"No."
Moro curses beneath his breath and very slowly, he pokes his head up above the edge of the table to catch a quick glance of the Mandalorian. He's back under the cover of the table in a flash, hiding like a coward.
"Let her go," Mando commands. The sound of Moro's bitter laugh grates on the hunter's nerve and he takes another step forward. His eyes scan the table, trying to pinpoint exactly where his fat, balding head is hiding. He can't risk hitting her. He lets a slow breath of frustration from his nose. He'll have to wait until the brute rears his ugly head.
"Let my human shield go? You must be stupid."
Mando lifts his blaster and points it to the table before lowering it once again. Anger was flaring hot at the edges of his vision and he coaxes it back down, letting it brew just beneath the surface instead. The tension along his shoulders shifts and now sits at his jaws clenched so tight he can feel the pressure in his teeth.
He isn't going to deal with this all night.
When Moro speaks again, his voice is accompanied by the rattling of the chain. "You just take a few steps back and I'll consider coming along nicely."
"You're not exactly in a position to make demands." Silence is his only answer and with another sigh of annoyance, he retreats two steps toward the door at his back. "Let her go."
"Again," Moro laughs. "You're stupider than you look. Who sent you anyway? Whatever they're paying you to capture me, I can double it if you promise to turn around and walk away."
Mando doesn't respond. He wishes he did have a bounty on him, one that calls for 'dead or alive' but he can't admit to Moro that he's there for an entirely selfish reason. Though that isn't necessarily true. He's there for her. To help her.
He doesn't admit it, but her silence is making him nervous. If she's already dead, he's going to string Moro up by his toes and drag him behind the Razor Crest upon departure. He pushes the thought out of his mind and takes another step back.
"I'm not here for you," he says calmly, though his mind is steadily going through his typical motions. Scanning his surroundings, listening for anyone possibly approaching, trying to anticipate Moro's next move. "I'm here for her."
The small squeak that he hears definitely doesn't come from Moro and he lets out a small breath of relief. She's still alive. At least he's sure of that now. The chain scrapes and rattles from behind the table and he hears her make another strangled cry. Moro is making his move and Mando adjusts accordingly, positioning his blaster toward the table.
When the man stands, he's got her in front of him. A human shield; just as he'd described her. Her greasy hair is hanging across her face but even through it, he can see she's clenching her teeth together behind her lips. The hand at her throat grips tighter, wrapped in the rust-covered chain, and at the side of her head, Moro holds his own blaster pointing right at her temple. From around her head, Moro's face peeks out but not nearly enough that Mando has a clean shot.
"What'd you want her for?"
"She's a friend." Mando steps to the side, following the two of them as Moro steers her to the side of the room with the only escape route.
"What's a Mandalorian doing being friends with a whore?"
He doesn't dignify him with an answer and instead focuses on finding a good shot. The man is much wider than she is, but he doesn't want to risk hurting her. His eyes drift down and through her legs, Mando can see Moro's pudgy kneecap. It wouldn't be too difficult to bring him down with that but can he risk her being shot? He thinks briefly about telling her to duck to give him a clear shot, but the chain around her throat won't give her much room to move.
"Last chance, Moro." The words make the man's grip around her throat grow tighter and she lets out a choked gag. "Let her go."
"Way I see it, if a bounty hunter is after her, she must be worth something. So, if it's all the same, I think I'll-"
Mando reacts before the words leave his mouth and he's thankful that for the moment, her head is blocking Moro's view. The grappling hook catches on the chain and he jerks his arm back, pulling her forward. She cries out in surprise and the hold her captor has on her falters, sending her spinning until her back is nearly slamming into the floor. She's only stopped by the short length of chain between her throat and his fist and while she's out of the line of fire, the Mandalorian fires.
It's a clean shot and it hits Moro directly between the eyes. He blinks in surprise before falling backward with a heavy thump and when the dust settles, Mando's eyes fall to where she's kneeling on the dusty floor. The chain is loose and pooled around her legs and he can see a slight tremble in her fingers as she covers her head.
Seconds stretch between them but slowly, she lowers her hands and sits up. Her head lifts and Mando's body takes a step toward her before he even knows he's moving. At the sound of his steps, she turns to face him and pushes her hair away from her face. Her eyes, once warm and full of laughter and spark have changed. The rich hues of brown he remembered were now faded and milky and he can't help his jaw hanging loose behind his helmet as his feet come to a stop.
"You're blind."