.
.
It doesn't take long for Sera to learn a few things about traveling through the galaxy. The Mandalorian had been right about one thing. Space is cold and she's thankful that he had an extra jumpsuit for her to wear. If she was forced to wear the clothes she brought with her, she'd have already frozen halfway to death.
A few times she woke from a nap to find her toes and fingers so cold she could barely move them. She had wondered whether or not to ask her new companion if he had any heat in this ship, but decided it was best not to bother him.
He seemed to be treating her as if she were another piece of cargo he was hauling and not a person who could carry on conversations with. In addition to what she was learning about traveling the galaxy, she found he was not very friendly. Or maybe she's being too harsh. It's not that he's unfriendly. He's just very clearly not used to having anyone else around to carry on a conversation with.
Which is making their time together full of awkward silences that stretch on and on no matter how many times Sera tries to get him to communicate. His only responses are short answers, maybe a nod, or a tilt of his helmet that seems to say more than his words do. But his lack of communication skills doesn't deter her from trying and currently, the two sit at the lone table in the cargo area together.
She finishes her meal of dried meats and a piece of bread that's on the verge of going stale while the Mandalorian focuses on the one task he's been doing the past hour. The large, bizarre rifle that he carries on his back is laid out on the table and while Sera sits back in the chair with the last bite of her bread, she watches him clean between the metal grooves with a ragged cloth. He doesn't look at her or speak; something she's already grown used to.
Space, in addition to being cold and enormously big, is also boring. Even though they're traveling through hyperspace at speeds she could never fathom, the trip is long. He had warned her the first few hours that it would take several days but she never expected this.
If she isn't sitting at the table, drumming her fingers or watching him move about, she tries to nap but it's grown as stale as the bread. She wants and needs something to pass the time and the only thing available to her is trying-again-to strike up a conversation with the bounty hunter that is still ignoring her presence.
Swallowing the last bite of bread, Sera dusts her hands off on the side of her legs and leans forward once more. She drops her elbows onto the table and lets her left hand fall to the rifle that sits between her and the bounty hunter. The end of the weapon with the two prongs points toward the ladder, and just as she's nearly touched her middle finger to it, a large, gloved hand snatches her by the wrist.
In an instant, her eyes flicker up to meet the visor of his helmet and she frowns, not yet pulling her hand out of his grip. She blinks and arches her eyebrow. "What? You don't let anyone else touch your toys?"
If he detects the playful tone in her voice, he makes no mention of it and simply drops her hand back onto the table. "Only if you want to get electrocuted." Sera can't help her eyes going a bit wide at his words and she watches him pull the rifle closer to his side of the table. "It delivers a shock. Could potentially knock you out."
"Oh." She sits back and lets her hand slide back toward her. "Well, thank you for stopping me. Is it difficult to use?"
"No."
It's immediately clear to her that she won't be getting much else in the way of words from him. He's already back to cleaning into the tiny nooks and crannies of the rifle and Sera drums her fingernails across the table with a scowl. Across the cargo hold, the cabinet where the remainder of his weapons were stashed sat, doors open and the light overhead shining down on the plethora of gadgets.
Sera tilts her head and cuts her eyes back to the Mandalorian across from her. His head is bent low and as he wedges the rag against the rifle butt, she stands from her chair and crosses the area. The light isn't as bright as it probably once was but she can see his weapons all laid out neatly inside the cabinet.
On the back wall are blasters of every shape. Several with long barrels and one with a short, stubby one. On each door, there are about three guns, all of which Sera has no idea how to use. Women didn't exactly carry weapons where she comes from.
Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the figure at the table had gone quite still and she turns to see the bounty hunter's helmet pointing right at her. He's no longer cleaning his rifle and she sighs, lifting her arms to cross them over her chest.
"You don't have to look at me like that. I'm not going to steal a blaster and hold you hostage, or anything."
He makes a noise in the back of his throat and while it's muffled by his helmet, Sera almost swears it's a laugh. Or as close to a laugh as a man like him would ever get. Her hands drop to her hips and she turns to face him. "What?"
"I didn't say anything."
"You laughed."
"Did I?"
With a roll of her eyes, she turns back toward the cabinet, knowing he's watching her every move. She knows he'll react to her reaching into toward the weapons and as she lifts her hand, she notices him tighten his hold on his own rifle. It brings a grin to her lips and she turns her head to him so he can see it.
Even with all the layers of armor hiding every inch of him from her, she'd have to be blind not to see how tense he is. She holds up her hands in surrender and shakes her head with a chuckle. "Don't worry. I'm just a little, skug hole bumpkin. I wouldn't know what to do with a blaster even if I got my hands on it."
"Doesn't mean you won't do any damage."
At this, she laughs again and shrugs her shoulders. He has a point and she doesn't want to argue and upset him. She decides it's probably best to let him relax and she steps away from the weapon cabinet, but if he thinks he's getting out of a conversation, then he's mistaken. Before he can drop his attention back to cleaning his rifle, she speaks up.
"So, this planet you're dumping me on, you said it was Nevarro?" Sera reaches the table again and lowers herself back into her chair. The Mandalorian abandons his rag for a small stick with a cotton ball on one end. "Do you think I could find some work there?"
She watches his hands still and after a moment, he lifts his helmet to stare at her. Before he can answer, she clarifies herself. "Some honest work."
It's not that she's above using her body to make money again, but selling herself to drunks got old on Cress. She can assume that the appeal will fade fast on any other planet as well. And judging by the bounty hunter's silence, she figures out his answer quickly. With a sigh, she taps the table and sits back in the chair.
"Figures. I guess there isn't a lot the galaxy has to offer someone like me."
He sets the cleaning stick down beside the rifle and she watches the plate across his chest rise and fall with a deep breath. "There's a man in Nevarro. He might be able to find something for you." The corner of her lips lifts in a faint smile. "When we get there, I'll talk to him."
It's strange how someone so void of emotion and so outwardly cold can have the most surprising bouts of kindness. She can feel her smile widening and she reaches across the table, placing her hand on the back of his glove. "Thank you for being so kind to me."
In a flash, he pulls his hand back and stands from the table. She knows he's uncomfortable with close contact, but she's still surprised to see him react as if she had crawled onto his lap.
"Don't worry about it," he says quietly, taking his rifle from the table and crossing the cargo area to the open cabinet.
An apology presses against the back of her throat and she swallows it down, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than he already is with her. How could someone who hunts down dangerous criminals to make a living be so awkward and uneasy at the touch of a hand or conversation?
She wants to ask him about it, but decides not to. If apologizing to him might make him uneasy, then bringing up why he's so bad at carrying a conversation wouldn't be such a good idea. And while their brief banter might have cured a bit of her boredom for the time being, they still had a ways to go before they faced any excitement.
Sera stands to her feet and reaches for the rag he had left behind on the table to wipe away a few crumbs she had left behind after eating. Even after the bits of bread crumbs were brushed to the floor, the table didn't seem quite clean. She spins on her heel and opens her mouth, expecting to find him busy at the cabinet with his weapons.
And that's where he's standing, but he's looking at her and she snaps her lips shut once more. Her eyes cut down to the rag and she clears her throat, ignoring the heat that touches her face at the realization that he had been watching her. "Um," she struggles to find the words, wishing her face would stop turning pink. "Do you have a bucket or something I could fill with water?"
He doesn't hesitate and crosses the room to the refresher. There's a small corner behind the vac tube where a silver sink is built into the wall and just beneath it, the Mandalorian pulls out a metal bucket with a thin wire handle. He holds it under the sprayer and fills it with a bit of water before turning back to face Sera.
She takes hold of the bucket and smiles in thanks before turning toward the table. Water lifts the smudges that had been left for far too long on the surface and she rings the dirty rag back into the bucket before lowering onto her knees.
In her time on Cress, before abandoning her family for freedom, her usual chore was scrubbing the floors of the shack she and her six siblings shared with her father. The older boys would help in the fields and would track mud through the house several times a day. And if there was ever a streak of dirt or clay she missed, her father would smack her across the face and make her clean while the rest of the family ate their dinner.
Those nights, she would go to bed hungry and spend the night crawling as quietly as she could to the pantry just to nibble on a few crackers in the dark. It was there, in the dark, trying her hardest to stay as silent as a mouse to not wake her cruel father that she realized that she hated him and hated everyone on the planet for thinking that was what life should be.
And while she swore that after leaving that god-forsaken village that she would never spend her days scrubbing floors again, she doesn't mind this time. The Mandalorian isn't forcing her to scrub the floors of his ship and she knows she doesn't have to if she doesn't want to be smacked around like her father used to do.
But it's the only thing she can think of to repay him for the kindness he's shown her. The spare credits she has to give him don't feel enough.
As she dips the rag back into the water, rings it out, and puts it to the floor, she hears the sound of his boots on the floor behind her. She sits back on her heels and glances back at him from over her shoulder, finding him standing between her and the weapon cabinet.
"You don't have to do that."
Sera blows a loose strand of hair away from her face and waves him off. "It's the least I can do and besides, it gives me something to do to pass the time. Besides," she says, glancing down to the sheets of metal making up the floor. Streaks of oil and mud and scuff marks from the Mandalorian's boots cover the surface and she scoffs. "It needs a thorough cleaning."
"I can spray it out when we get to Nevarro." His words don't convince her and again, she glances back at him with an eyebrow arched in doubt.
"You can, but will you?"
There's that slight tilt of his helmet again as if he's struggling to figure her out. Sera isn't sure why but she likes knowing that he can't. Maybe he's too used to hardened, dangerous criminals and has forgotten what a normal person is like. Or perhaps she's not as normal as she thinks she is.
Still, the floors need to be scrubbed and since he shows no signs of getting on his hands and knees to help her, she laughs softly and wags her finger at him. "That's what I thought."
As he stands there, still staring at her like she had suddenly started speaking an alien language, Sera turns back to the floor and swipes the rag over a streak of oil. A few seconds later, she hears his boots tap against the rungs of the ladder and then silence. She glances back over her shoulder to find him gone and a grin spreads across her face.
.
.
Landing a ship is just as rocky as the takeoff and Sera isn't exactly prepared for the bumps and trembles of the hulking metal beast. It jars her and makes her smack her head against the seat she strapped herself into. A few times, she thinks she might shriek but manages to keep her outbursts quiet.
By the time the ship is settled on the dusty planet of Nevarro, Sera is ready to be back on solid ground. Mando tells her to gather her things while he takes care of things and she doesn't ask him to elaborate on that. She's more than ready to get out of the oversized, scratchy flight suit he had loaned her.
And once she's shed it off, tossed it aside, and dressed once more in the clothes she's most comfortable in, she breathes a sigh of relief. A simple white scarf is tied around her chest and she hopes the small glimpse of the planet she'd witnessed out the windows of the Razor Crest gave her enough of an idea of the temperature of Nevarro's climate.
It looked like it was a desert, with sand and rocks and a bright sun beating down on it. She didn't exactly plan for anything colder than the climate on Cress and she hopes her loose, linen pants are enough to keep her comfortable.
She slips her feet into her sandals and is pleased with the floor beneath them. There are a few stains too stubborn for her to lift with just a rag and water, but there's a vast improvement to the interior of the ship. Or the floor at least. The rest of the cargo area is a bit worse for wear and she hopes he doesn't let it get too messy.
A strange thought pops into her head as she stands in the cargo area, waiting for the bounty hunter to finish up with whatever tasks he's doing above her. Though she's only known him for a short while, she feels she'll miss him when they eventually part ways. He isn't a bad guy and has been more than helpful to her.
Maybe it's more to do with the fact that he's quite a curiosity for her rather than the fact that she'll miss him. Their conversations had been brief, but she's still curious to know more about him and wonders if he feels the same way about her.
But that's ridiculous. He's not the type of man that she's used to. He's not interested in her. He's interested in doing his job and getting paid and she's nothing more than a momentary annoyance to him that will result in a few extra coins in his pocket.
The sound of him moving about overhead breaks her out of her thoughts and she watches him move quickly down the ladder. He's carrying a handful of bounty pucks in his hand-ones that he'll turn in for money-and she forces a small smile as he turns to face her.
He doesn't speak but she doesn't exactly expect him to as he crosses to the panel of controls near the bay doors. After punching his fingers into a few of them, the hydraulics hiss and the Mandalorian takes a step back to watch the door lower in front of them. Sera swallows and stares at the planet slowly coming into view.
A ball of knots is weighing heavily in her stomach and she presses a hand to her midsection to try and soothe them. It doesn't work and she can feel the stares from the man standing beside her.
Hesitantly, Sera looks up at him to find that tinted visor looking directly at her. She forces a small smile and waves him off before adjusting the strap of her bag up her shoulder. "I'm alright," she says more for herself than for him. "I'm just nervous. New planet, new people, you know?"
She snaps her lips shut before she starts to ramble nervously and just as she looks out toward the open door on the side of his ship, she notices just the slightest tilt of his helmet dropping lower. Again, that heat creeps up her cheeks and she gives him a second glance, narrowing her eyes.
Was he...looking at her body?
Before she can ask him, he steps down the ramp and onto the dusty ground of Nevarro. Sera catches up to him, staring at the back of his helmet with her narrowed gaze, trying to figure out what in the world just happened. There's no way a man like him, so bottled up and closed off, could be checking her out.
She must have had something on her scarf-though when she looks down at herself to check, she finds nothing but the loose fabric covering her breasts. Against her will, the corner of her lip curls and she quickly catches up to him, falling into step beside him.
With a deep breath, she looks out around the shipyard and pulls the strap of her bag closer. A few figures are standing around, looking at their equipment or getting ready to leave the planet and she finds herself unable to look away from the Mandalorian for too long.
"So, this is Nevarro, huh?"
He heads toward a small archway that acts as a gate into the town and behind the walls surrounding it, Sera can hear the sounds of a marketplace. Immediately, her nerves start to relax. It's a sound she's used to and she finds comfort in hearing it. Her relief is shortlived as the bounty hunter glances down at her and speaks.
"Keep your things close. There are pickpockets."
Ah, so it isn't different from Cress at all. Sera pushes one of her braids behind her shoulders and nods, clutching her bag tightly with her other hand. "Okay."
"And don't stare at anyone."
Her steps almost come to a stop but she catches back up and scowls up at him. "You really think I'm an idiot, don't you?"
This time, he comes to a stop just inside the walls of the town and Sera digs her heels in the dirt and whirls to face him. His shoulders drop with a sigh and he looks down at her through the visor. "I didn't mean it like that. People here aren't known for being nice. They're...easily offended."
And this is where she's starting her new life? Sera sighs and glances around. There isn't much to see aside from the outside facade of a few buildings and a scattering of people standing around-humans and other species. She turns her gaze back to him and purses her lips.
"Well, I can't say you've got me very excited to call this place my new home, but it can't be that bad."
He doesn't say anything and the longer he stands there, staring down at her, the more nervous she grows. His silence tells a lot more than his words and before she can ask him if Nevarro can be that bad, he turns to head further into town.
Sera blinks after him and glances around. The ball of nerves has returned and she puts a hand to her midsection once more and follows him. Around the corner, the market opens up and she's able to see the multitude of species that coexist in the town. In that respect, it's a lot different than Cress.
There are creatures that are about knee-high, almost completely cloaked and Sera can't help but gaze down at them with wide eyes. They're speaking in high-pitched voices and though she can't understand the language, it's clear they're arguing with a stall vendor about whatever they're trying to sell to him.
The man behind the stall is human but has a nasty scar down the front of his face, whitening one of his eyes. He shouts something at the creatures and points away from them, telling them all to scream.
Sera stares at the short creatures as she passes and one looks up at her, blinking a pair of red eyes as it grumbles and shakes a fist at her. An apology is on her lips but she has no time to utter a syllable. A hand grips her by the elbow and pulls her away from the scene, spinning her until she nearly collides with the slightly dented armor on the Mandalorian's chest.
She tilts her head back and peers up at his helmet. "I told you not to stare."
"I wasn't! I just...didn't expect to see-" she looks back to where the group of short, cloaked figures are scurrying off. "-whatever they were."
"Jawas," the bounty hunter explains with a small sigh, dropping her elbow as he turns away from the central alley of the market. He leads her down a small side street and there are still some stalls set up, but not as many. "They can be bastards, so watch out for them."
"Great."
So far, she was learning everything she wasn't supposed to do or who not to be friends with. When was she supposed to figure out how to reach the next step in her life? At least Nevarro seemed different from Cress in one respect.
The women on this planet weren't hidden away and forced to be submissive mice-never seen and never heard. Several shopkeepers were women, shouting and handling money, laughing with the traders, and swearing just as much as the men. It was like a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stale, dry climate that carried a slight scent of foreign body odor.
A small table is set up, selling a variety of fabrics. None seem to be fashionable or anything aside from durable, long-lasting strips of canvas, but Sera reaches out and touches one of the lighter colored folds. The woman behind the table turns away from one of the traders and lifts her head to Sera.
"See anything you like?"
"Oh, no, I'm just-"
"Well, move aside for paying customers, then!"
Sera stumbles back as a male Twi-lek pushes against her shoulder and lays down a handful of credits. The two of them barter for a moment and from behind her, Sera hears the familiar sound of the Mandalorian clearing his throat. Ignoring the rush of heat to her face that burns to the tips of her ears, she adjusts the strap of her bag and turns to face the bounty hunter.
Though she has absolutely no way of knowing, she suspects he's smiling behind his helmet in a very 'I told you so' manner and she lifts her chin a bit higher in defiance. He waits until she's beside him once more and turns toward a smaller, narrow alleyway.
Here, there are no stalls but crates line the streets and she can hear laughter and music drifting out from one of the buildings. Oddly, it's exactly where he leads her. Sera is surprised by the crowd that lingers inside the doorway that the Mandalorian ducks into and she stands on the top step, blinking in surprise.
The noise is raucous and annoying and from over the shouts and laughter, there's music playing that instantly grates on her nerves. She pulls her bag closer and hurries to step aside as a brute of a Devaronian stomps toward the door. He grunts as he steps around her and she watches the tips of his horns brush the underside of the door frame as he leaves.
Still in surprise at where the otherwise soft-spoken, quiet Mandalorian has taken her, Sera turns to make her way further inside and nearly collides with the back of him. He's stopped at the bottom of the stairs and she puts her hands out to brace herself against his back. He doesn't react and she peers around him.
"What's wrong? Why did we stop-"
"Mando!" A loud, friendly voice calls from over the noise, making Sera whip her head up. Across the room of the bar, a man is rising from his seat and lifting a hand to wave at them. Well, at the Mandalorian anyway.
He stands beside a half-circle of a table with a bench seat that curves all the way around and he isn't alone. Sera follows her companion across the room and steps beside him as they come to a stop in front of the table. The man who had called to him was smiling and lowering himself back into the bench. His eyes are kind and aged, with wrinkles at the corners that carry a mischievous spark to them.
Sera blinks up at the stoic Mandalorian beside her. Somehow, he's colder now and she can almost feel the tension radiating off him in waves.
"Mando," the man says again in his deep voice. "I certainly don't remember giving you a bounty for a lovely young woman."
Ah, there was that mischief she suspected. She forces a smile that she hopes seems friendly and can't help glancing at the other man at the table-the one that her Mandalorian friend hasn't stopped staring at since they stepped up to the table.
This man is younger than the other one and has his arms slung over the back of the booth in a relaxed manner that was purposefully crafted. Sera has seen his type before. They were a dime a dozen on the ports of Cress. Moderately handsome men that think they can bed any woman just because they have a crooked smirk and a confident twinkle in their eye.
Usually, Sera could make a good night's pay with those kinds of men but this one...there was something about him that doesn't sit well with her.
At her side, the bounty hunter sighs, pulling her attention away from the man staring at her. "I can come back if you're busy."
"Nonsense," the older man says loudly, waving him off. "The more the merrier."
At the back of the booth, the other man laughs and drops one hand to the seat beside him, patting it gently. "You can slide in next to me." As her eyebrow arches and she shifts on her feet, the man gives her one of those crooked smiles that rubs her the wrong way. "I don't bite."
The music is suddenly too loud for her to hear for sure, but she's almost certain that the Mandalorian grumbles a curse word beneath his breath. She glances at the two men seated at the table and knows it would be rude to refuse their offer. And as skeevy as this guy seems, he could be the one who could help her find work.
Sera lowers herself to the seat and slides around to the curve where the man is sitting. He's got longer hair than the other one, tied halfway back behind his head. There are two braids hanging from his temples and she notices his button-up shirt is left open down to his navel, giving her a view of the hair on his chest.
She almost rolls her eyes but instead, forces a polite smile at him before turning to watch the Mandalorian take a seat. He keeps himself as close to the edge as he can and the man's face across from him slips. It's almost unrecognizable but there's something there that Sera instantly notices. She's seen it before on men who would play cards and realize they were going to lose out on a lot of money.
He was nervous.
And now so was she.
The tension from moments ago spiked in the seconds it took for them to sit and the man to her right was staring at her with the smirk still. It wasn't helping her. Though his smile remains, his eyes have dropped lower to take in her body and she wishes she had kept that bulky flight suit on.
"It's always a good day when you've got a beautiful woman by your side," he says, laughing with the man across from her. "Vas Lorn."
Sera looks down at his hand and slowly slides hers into it, letting him embrace her palm. "Sera," she mumbles.
The other man introduces himself as Greef and the reassuring, confident smile he had on his face earlier returns. "Now, I know you're not from Nevarro. I'd remember a face like yours." Greef wags a finger at her and Sera shifts in the seat, glancing quickly at the Mandalorian. He's as still as a statue, with one hand on his lap and the other on the table with the bounty pucks.
Before she can respond, Vas leans forward and drops his elbows on the table, giving her a closer view of his grin. One of his teeth, the pointed one, is covered in a gold cap and she blinks at it. "Now, what's a girl like you doing with a Mandalorian?"
"He brought me here. I'm from Cress."
"Cress?" Greef laughs and reaches for the half-filled tankard in front of him. "I didn't think anyone left that hellhole."
"They usually don't. I was lucky enough to find a way off, thanks to-" she turns to face Mando and smiles softly, realizing she had never called him by a name before, even if it's not exactly his . "Thanks to Mando." He's not looking at her, keeping his helmet focused straight ahead at Greef. She can see his fists are clenched a bit tighter than normal and she shifts nervously on the seat. "I'm looking for work-honest work. Mando said I might find it here."
The two men laugh and Greef sits back with the tankard in his hand. He drapes an arm across the back of the booth and from beside her, she's almost surprised to feel the warmth of Vas' hand on her knee. She doesn't let him see her reaction, knowing that's exactly what he wants from her.
Thankfully, it isn't Vas that speaks up but Greef. "There isn't much honest work around here. Even the shopkeepers and bartenders have shady dealings."
"I might have some work to offer you," Vas suggests, and Sera feels the hair at the back of her neck bristle. He lifts his hand away from her and crosses his arms over his chest. As soon as he takes his hand away, she slowly and carefully slides closer to Mando. Hopefully, the smile she flashes Vas will keep him distracted so he doesn't notice how repulsed she is by him. "Now, it's not very honest , but it pays handsomely. Someone like you could live like a queen in my business."
She may have been a backwater bumpkin, but she knows enough to realize that Vas means prostitution. And while she would never shame someone for using their body for work, she was trying to leave that life behind. She meets Vas' eyes and behind their twinkling, blue surface, there's so much darkness that makes her skin crawl.
This man was bad news.
"I'm trying to keep my nose clean these days. I could look elsewhere. I'm sure there's something on this planet-" Again, the two men laugh and while she can't be too sure, she feels as if they're laughing at her this time. It makes her jaw clench and she once again, inches closer to Mando. "Thank you for your help. I appreciate it, but if you'll let me out, I should probably try to find my way around and see if I can-"
"Now hold on there," Vas says, reaching out to stop her with a hand on her arm. He drops it down to her thigh and it's too close to the inside of her legs this time. She can't help herself and scowls down at it. "Don't brush my deal off just yet. It's not what you think, I assure you. I'm not some seedy pimp-"
"Not what I heard."
The distorted voice coming from behind the visor of Mando's helmet surprises Sera and she blinks in surprise. Her eyes cut to Greef and he's looking at Vas with that worried look in his eyes from before. His fingers are tapping at the handle of his tankard and Sera swallows nervously.
"I don't remember asking for your opinion, Mando."
"Hey," Greef finally speaks up. "Why ruin a good day with this petty mess? I thought we put all of that behind us?"
Put all of what behind them? Sera glances between each of them and she can feel Mando shift on the seat beside her before he speaks up again. "And I thought Lorn had a bounty on his head."
"Vas' debts were paid."
Sera looks at Greef then back to Mando.
"By slavers."
"Mando-"
"I should go." The spike in tension is making her start to sweat and she can feel the argument taking a more dangerous turn. She puts her hand on the table and forces a smile, leaning her knee against Mando's to let him know to let her out. When he slides to the edge, she nods to Greef and ignores Vas, though she can feel his stare on her. "This isn't any of my business and I really need to find work from someone."
She stands from the table as soon as she's able to and she peers up at the familiar shape of the helmet covering the bounty hunter's head. It feels strange leaving without telling him goodbye, but she doesn't want to stick around and see where this argument eventually leads. With a nod that she hopes carries more than she can tell him at that moment, Sera turns away from the table and hurries across the bar.
She manages to make it far enough away, but can still hear the Mandalorian asking for more bounty pucks in her absence. Business resumes as normal and she feels the stuffy air starting to suffocate her. The bar feels smaller as if all eyes are turned to her. The ball of knots in her stomach is so heavy she nearly feels sick and she rushes out of the bar.
Outside, the air isn't much better. It's humid and hot but she gulps it in any way. She manages to stumble a few steps away and leans against the wall. She puts her hands on her knees and leans over, feeling the full weight of her decisions weighing down on her.
Alone on a foreign planet, with men just as shady and corrupt as they were on Cress, she had never been so lost. At least with Cress, she was familiar with the standards. This was different and still too much of the same and she was beginning to regret leaving the only home she had ever known.
But what was irking her the most was the fact that the Mandalorian had been so different just now. He's always quiet and closed off, but this was different. She could still practically feel his disgust and hatred for Vas Lorn. And if Nevarro was a planet where men like Vas lived, she isn't sure she belongs there.
Because while her time with Mando was brief, in a strange way, she trusts his judgment. He's seen the worst of the galaxy and knows a thing or two about bad guys. If he hates someone that much, there's probably a good reason.
A burn pressed into the back of her eyes while her throat tightened around a knot. Was leaving Cress a mistake? Was that planet truly the best she could find out here?
Just as tears burn the back of her eyelids, she hears the gravel beside her crunch beneath someone's weight. Sera lifts her head and blinks in surprise at the sight of Mando silhouetted against the setting sun behind him. He shifts on his feet as she pushes away from the wall and swipes some loose hair away from her face.
Mando clears his throat and looks out toward the darkening alleyway. "I can take you to Tatooine. You'll have better luck there."
She can't stop her eyes from going wide and she pulls at the strap of her bag with a nod. "Okay, when can we leave?"
Mando takes a step around her and she turns to follow him, a smile stretching her mouth as he says, "Immediately."