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Chapter Three
The Bounty
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Morning came gently on Movet. The sun's rays found the mountaintops long before it reached the valleys, setting the snow on the peaks ablaze with white fire, which in turn reflected into the lower regions and cast them in an ethereal glow.
Din, of course, was awake long before then. He'd slept well on the bed of soft furs, having removed most of his armor save for the helmet. By the time he'd decided to sleep, he had relaxed enough to believe that the quarry had no ill intentions towards him, but that hadn't stopped him from wedging the desk chair under the door and drifting off with his blaster in hand.
He took the predawn birdsong as his signal to start the day. Each piece of armour went back into place like scales. Despite the battered and worn nature of each piece, despite the dents and scratches - some present when he'd received it, others added since - he buckled each in place with reverence. His armor was an extension of himself. It kept him alive. It was his Creed. The Way.
When everything was in place, he was again tempted back into the front rooms by the smell of cooking. He made his way back to the kitchen, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of a stranger fussing over a pan of bacon and eggs.
His hand had actually flown to his blaster before he recognized the elegant heart shaped face and squat build. Despite not having looked up at his entrance, a small amused smile twitched on the quarry's lips.
"Glad to know my disguise is effective," she said brightly.
Her hair was a little shorter now, hanging loose around her shoulders instead of draping down her back in a braid. The auburn hair he'd come to associate with her had been smothered by a rich shade of raven black. It was still damp from being rinsed. Beneath the smell of bacon was the bitter tang of dye.
Din nodded curtly. "It is."
He was unexpectedly disappointed. Not that his opinion mattered in the slightest, but he'd thought the original fiery auburn had suited her quite well.
She hummed her appreciation and slid half of the bacon and eggs into a plate, which she passed to him, saying, "Well, we can't all maintain anonymity behind a helmet, Mandalorian."
"I suppose not."
Her eyes were different too. Dark brown.
He tilted his head curiously.
Her brow furrowed for a moment as she studied him, then relaxed with an easy smirk. "Oh, the eyes! Colored contacts."
"Huh." He had to hand it to her, if he had just seen her in passing, he never would have known. "It's… very good."
She nodded at the half-forgotten plate he held. "Eat. I will tend the olfdo, and then we may leave."
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Half an hour later, they set out to find the Razor Crest. Din described the small clearing he'd landed in and where it was in reference to the river. The quarry said that she already knew.
He didn't ask how.
As agreed, he didn't comment on the blaster she tucked in her waistband or the knife hidden within her boot, though he did pay careful attention to them - just in case she changed her mind about their deal.
It was a long walk, but a nice one. Yesterday he had been in hunting mode and couldn't afford to admire the sunlight filtering through the monolithic evergreen trees - even as he slunk through them. Now, he was able to appreciate the way the spongy carpet of lichen and fallen pine needles absorbed the sound of his footfalls as well as the faint hum of birdsong and summer insects that disguised his modulated breaths. Small mammals scurried through the underbrush, occasionally startling and diving back into burrows.
Some of the wolves - or olfdo, as the quarry called them - trailed after them for a while, weaving in and out of underbrush and snapping playfully at the insects they stirred up as they went. But eventually they melted one by one into the foliage.
He and the quarry chatted as they walked. Din found himself starting to enjoy her company. Although she neatly skirted any indirect inquiries about why she had a bounty on her or why she chose such an isolated place to retire, she was more than happy to discuss the olfdo, the landscape, and the Movetian lifestyle.
As expected, she was a jack of all trades. She talked woodworking, hunting, fishing, tanning, and local flora and fauna. Apparently she had a very large underground greenhouse where she grew vegetables and wildflower seedlings all year long.
He asked her what else she had hidden underground.
She chuckled knowingly, a sly glint in her dark eyes. "The essentials."
Din had no idea what that meant, but was privately relieved that she'd been ready to strike a deal instead of making him work for her payload.
When they reached the energy perimeter, he was surprised to see it live and buzzing with electricity, as he hadn't put it back up after deactivating it when he crossed. The quarry deactivated it with practiced ease and let him through.
He looked up from watching her recouple the lines to see Nana, the olfdo from the day before, standing on the other side and looking a little dejected. She twitched her ears at the Mandalorian and wagged her tail slowly.
"They gonna be okay while you're gone?"
The quarry didn't bother looking up from her work. "Yes. They have food."
He hated to point out the obvious, but did so anyway. "And if you don't come back?"
She sniffed. "They can also hunt."
He nodded slowly, folding his arms across his chest. "There enough game within the perimeter?"
She nodded distractedly. "Mhm. Most of the time. The fielkir… the… the elk-deer… They jump straight over the barrier and come in and out all the time."
Din grunted in acknowledgement.
"And, worse case, the olfdo can leave and hunt beyond," she went on. "They do not like to, but the electricity doesn't slow the adults down much…"
Din filed that away for later.
"...but it keeps the young ones in. And most predators out."
His head tipped to the side. "The Olarba?"
The barrier hummed back to life. The quarry turned to face him, expression dark. "Most of the time."
From there, it didn't take long to reach the Crest. By then, it was well into the afternoon and the small clearing he'd stowed the ship in was slanted with golden light.
The quarry hummed her approval as she padded across the mossy ground, appraising the blaster cannons with an experienced eye. "Pre-Empire. Solid design. You've done well to keep her from the Imperial impounds."
Din tapped at his vambrace, unlocking the hatch and lowering the ramp before leading the way onboard. The darkness within was welcoming after the long trek across unfamiliar woodland. A few of the lights flickered on, but didn't offer much besides illuminating the dull metal walls and a few of the dusty crates shoved into the corners. It was empty and decrepit, but it was home. Or at least the closest thing he had to one.
The quarry's soft footsteps on the ramp reminded him that there was more to do before he could relax. Din turned to face her. She stood between him and the hatch, framed by sunlight. He couldn't make out her eyes in the darkness, but her stance was non threatening and relaxed.
"What's the plan from here?" He asked, a little uncertain.
The quarry peered around his shoulder, her eyes flickering around the bay before settling on the carbonite freezer and the other bounties stowed behind it. She nodded satisfactorily to herself.
"Your normal method is the freezer, I take it. We can conclude our business now, then."
Din frowned. "You sure?"
She felt inside one of her coat's interior pockets and came away with a hefty pouch of credits. She bounced it once in her hand before holding it out to him.
When she spoke again, it was without her usual brusque Movetian accent, but with a different lilt that sounded as if it had been derived from Huttese and then lightly textured with slave cant. She delivered it flawlessly.
"Yeah. It's the easiest way. For both of us, I think."
He was still processing the sudden change in tone as she trotted over to the carbonite freezer and settled back into the harness. He finally followed, the credit pouch held forgotten in his hand.
She looked up at him expectantly.
Din hesitated, but wasn't entirely sure why. Yeah, it was easier. Especially for him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't look forward to being alone on his ship, deep in hyperspace where he could take off his helmet without constantly having to be on guard. But he'd found her to be easy company, something that didn't happen often in his field of work, and he was at loathe to lose it so quickly.
A glimmer of surprise crossed her face. She studied him, her brown furrowed with concern. "Is there a problem?"
He flushed hot with embarrassment, but didn't outwardly express it.
"No," he grunted. "As long as you're sure."
"I've been in carbonite before," she added. "I know what to expect. When you're ready."
He nodded once, then pressed the button on the side of the harness. When the fog cleared, he was left staring at her pretty face, stiff and lifeless under a coat of cold metal. Her eyes had squeezed closed at the last moment, her brow furrowed, frozen in an expression of mild discomfort.
Despite knowing that this was what she wanted, Din couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Would it have been wrong to insist that she stay out of the carbonite until they reached Nevarro? He didn't have much to offer, but a part of him would've liked the opportunity to return her hospitality.
He scoffed at himself. Yeah, field rations and an uncomfortable bunk. Nice, Djarin.
The trip to Nevarro felt longer than usual. Din spent the trip doing his best to push the quarry out of his mind. He still had questions, of course. She was strange, yes, but fascinating. The name on the fob was Ena Sma, but from what he'd seen, he doubted that it was her real one. Just how many aliases did she have? And why?
He lost the chance to ask when he turned the fob over to Karga. He didn't watch her be unloaded from the cargo hold of his ship.
He never tried to figure out what happened to her after, if she cleaned up the issue with the spice dealers or got killed in the process. He tried to convince himself that he didn't care, but caught himself toying with the idea of visiting Movet again.
More than once.
Each time, he roughly dismissed the thought. What did it matter to him? She'd kept her end of the deal and he was 10,000 credits better for it. Part of his end had been to stay away from her little homestead. Not to mention that he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be welcomed back with open arms.
Needless to say, he didn't think he'd ever see her again.
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