CHAPTER IX: DANGER

"Mando, can you help me?"

Zakia held two large crates from the ship, one sliding awkwardly overtop of the other and threatening to fall. They were on the small wooden ledge surrounding their hut, courtesy of the thankful village, moving all of their supplies in. The Mandalorian had moved most of the large items, but Zakia had apparently bit off more than she could chew.

"I got it." The Mandalorian took the top box, successfully removing it from Zakia's view.

She carefully trod into the hut, almost running into Mando's back as he stopped in front of her. Zakia peeked around his body to see what had stopped him, taking in the tall woman who was anchoring the outside blinds up for them. She recalled Caben mentioning that someone named Omera was setting up their lodging, and assumed this must be her.

"Please come in." She said, tightening the knot. "I hope this is comfortable for you. Sorry that all we have is the barn"

Omera had a kind voice and brown eyes, but Zakia could see the weariness behind her irises. "This will do fine. Your village is very quaint. Peaceful."

"I'm glad." Omera smiled gently, and Zakia felt herself gravitate towards the personality. It had been a long time since there had been a motherly figure in her life. "I stacked some blankets over here." She motioned to the corner.

Zakia managed to squeeze by Mando and place her box on the ground as he thanked the woman for her thoughtfulness. A flash of gray and blue near the door caught Zakia's eye, and the Mandalorian was already reaching for his blaster by the time she turned around. The offending figure leapt out of sight with a gasp, and Zakia brought a hand to rest on Mando's arm as she realized it was not a threat.

Omera glanced between them and the door, before walking over to wrap an arm around the shoulders of a young girl. She bore a striking resemblance to Omera, and Zakia's lips turned up at the edges.

"This is my daughter, Winta." She introduced as the girl clung to her skirts. "We don't get a lot of visitors around here. She's not used to strangers."

Zakia waved a hand in greeting, attempting to dispel some of the tension that had grown in the room. Winta managed a small smile back, fingers lifting off her mother's shirt in the smallest hint of a wave.

"These nice people are going to help protect us from the bad ones." Omera explained to her daughter, stroking a hand through her hair.

Winta lifted her head, brown eyes darting between Mando and Zakia.

"Thank you."

It was barely a whisper, but it caused the motherly feeling within Zakia to flare. The warmth that spread through her was the same as when she held the Child, who was toddling about behind Cara outside the hut. Winta's scared eyes and timid voice seemed to affect Mando as well, though no one else would ever pick up on it lest the helmet be removed.

Omera gave the couple a fond once-over before ushering Winta off the small porch. "Come on, Winta. Let's give our guests some room."

The family took their leave, and Zakia turned to Mando. "I think this place will be good to us."

Emotionless steel stared back at her, but the voice gave away all she needed to know. "I think you're right."

The Mandalorian was unused to the sounds of children playing and people milling about so close by.

Zakia was scouting the edge of the village with Cara, though Din was fairly sure she was just bored sitting around and needed an excuse to move. The village was quaint, as she had said, and it was something foreign to the hunters. His own lack of action manifested into an afternoon of weapons maintenance. After cleaning his own blaster and handing it off to Zakia, he took hers and offered to clean and oil them. She accepted and kissed his helmet before taking off with Cara.

Having made his way through a quarter of the blasters and rifles in the crates they had moved in, Mando settled on taking care of his Amban rifle. The pronged weapon was getting used more and more as Zakia once again acted as long-distance support on missions. It was a rhythm he had missed- one they had forgone after her injury. Before they traveled together, it was fairly common for them to work together on a large bounty. Din would go in the front and draw the attention, and Zakia would pick off the enemies as they appeared. She'd been damn good, and the best, according to many. To both their surprise, the injury she'd befallen at the hands of the Wookiee damaged her facial muscles beyond comprehension. Sniping proved much more difficult with half a face that refused to listen to nerve signals.

Din focused on the rifle, carefully removing the pronged end to clean the connections and oil the threads where it screwed together. A knock echoed from the hut's entrance, and he didn't have to turn. After many years of wearing a helmet and using his ears, Din learned to identify people by their footsteps very easily. And they were too heavy to be Zakia.

"Come in." He grunted, wiping a rag over the tip of the rifle.

His shoulders moved just enough so he could see Omera enter with a tray of food and cup of water beside the provisions. Her daughter followed close behind, eyes on the Child which rocked in a small wooden bassinet behind him. The creature's ears perked up at the girl's appearance, and Mando heard her giggle as he continued his work.

"Can I feed him?" The quiet voice of Winta reached his ears, and Din felt the hair on his neck rise.

A protective instinct rose within him, making his limbs jittery and his throat tight. He fought the feeling back, squashing it with confidence and looking back at the girl.

"Sure."

He watched the girl carefully out of the corner of his visor. She knelt down to his level and the baby giggled happily, clawed hands reaching out for her hair. Mando had noticed the fascination it had with woman's hair, as it had stared down Cara's when they were on the speeder the previous night, and always reached out to grab Zakia's wild curls. Winta kept her hair out of reach, but instead satisfied the Child with a small piece of cheese. It chirped happily as it accepted the meal, and Din couldn't help the smile beneath his helmet.

He was almost finished with the Amban rifle when Winta spoke. "Can I play with him?"

Again with the jitters. It was harder to push away this time, and Din grit his teeth. He was unwilling to admit his attachment to the creature, but at the same time didn't want it out of his sight.

"Sure." The answer was choked out, but his modulator helped to hide the edge in his voice. Din propped the rifle against a nearby create and bent forward to place the Child on the wooden floor.

It toddled and babbled after Winta, and Mando's body moved forward out of instinct when they made it to the threshold.

"I don't think-"

Omera waved him off, "They'll be fine."

His body propelled him another step forward. "I don't-"

"They'll be fine." This time the woman took a step in his path, obviously sensing his distress.

Din realized then he hadn't been alone in an unfamiliar place in a long time, and it explained some of the anxiety that mounted in his brain. Zakia was out of his sight and the Child as well, and his heart was racing beneath his beskar.

"I brought you some food. I noticed you didn't eat with Zakia before she left." Omera motioned to the tray which she'd sat on the windowsill, "I'll leave it for when I go."

"That's very thoughtful of you." The Mandalorian said, wiping the remaining oil from his hands.

His hands that absolutely were not shaking with unjustified paranoia.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

The roundabout question momentarily pulled Din's mind away from the feelings swirling around his brain. His eyes found Omera in his peripherals, and his body relaxed a touch. The woman was docile and kind, and Din admired that which remained after everything she had been through.

"Go ahead."

The shifting of Omera's robes indicated her hesitancy. "How long has it been since you've taken that off?"

It was the question everybody had, but few were brave enough to ask. Din admired the courage she had in asking, and sighed. When on missions, the days rolled by with the helmet over his head. He tried not to count, only beginning to maintain some semblance of normalcy when Zakia began traveling with him and he would take it off at night. He tried each night to remove it, taking a few moments to plunge the living quarters into darkness and allow Zakia to touch his face. To card her fingers through her hair and remind him that he did in fact have a home. But it had been a day since his helmet was removed. Their recent shenanigans with regards to the Child had left their previously managed schedule in disarray.

"Yesterday" Din decided. He thought he remembered waking up and pulling it on, though that very well could have been the previous day. Time felt different in space.

"I mean, in front of someone else." Omera pressed.

Din could hear the concern and feel the mothering. He hadn't embraced anything like it since he was a child. Zakia cared for him in a very specific way; they were partners and they did love each other. However, Zakia was never one for doting. She knew he could handle himself and he acknowledged she could do the same. Losing their unborn child had made her grow cold and callous. Their love had faded, but the bond they shared never would. But their acquisition of the Child had reinvigorated something long gone. Something Omera seemed to possess and lend out to anyone in need.

"I wasn't much older than they are." Din motioned to the children playing outside the window, ignoring the twinge of sadness that came along with memories of his childhood.

Omera's face fell into what Din could only describe as sadness. "You haven't shown your face to anyone since you were a kid?"

It was unlike him to allow these types of questions, but Omera's nurturing nature and motherly tone didn't indicate her as an enemy. The opposite, in fact. "No. I was happy that they took me in. My parents were killed and the Mandalorians took care of me."

"I'm sorry." Omera said softly. Her hands moved as if she wanted to comfort him but thought better of it.

"This is the Way."

The saying seemed lost on her, but the woman nodded curtly. "Let us know if there is anything you need. And, please extend the same courtesy to your family."

The word family hit Din like a charging mudhorn- and he knew what that felt like. It knocked the wind out of him and plunged him headfirst into a freezing stream of emotion. The helmet suddenly felt too tight, and he maneuvered to the windowsill. He remained in the shadows and shed the beskar, sucking in a deep breath. The plate of food was dragged closer automatically as he realized how empty his stomach was.

The Child was directly in front of him, surrounded by other village children who were gigging excitedly. Din drew in a breath and rubbed his face. His mind was racing, and he gulped down the glass of water like it was his last. The food followed shortly after, and Din found himself munching through a pack of the spicy bantha jerky Zakia liked so much.

Nerves calmed and stomach satiated, Din slipped the helmet back on. He stood near the windowsill for a moment, this time so the children could see him. The Child seemed to sense his presence, and cooed at him from his playtime. Two other figures who he quickly recognized as Zakia and Cara crossed through the village center, the former kneeling to say hello to the Child. Din's breath caught as he watched the creature smile at her and tug her curls. Watching her interact with the kid had the jittery, protective feeling shooting back through his limbs. These were his people.

His family.

Though she had come back appearing to be in a good mood, Zakia had always done well hiding her concerns. Her and Cara had entered the hut quietly, each taking a seat as they explained their suspicions. DIn's stomach lurched at the fact that there may be a AT-ST concealed in the trees, and hoped Cara and Zakia were simply overreacting.

However, he was the one who was wrong.

Din followed the women back to the sight of their find, kneeling down near the patterned footprint. It was an obvious indication of the machine's presence, and he gritted his teeth. There was no way the tiny village plus him, Zakia, and Cara could fight off an Imperial Walker.

"Bad news" He had announced when they made it back to the village, "You can't live here anymore."

The village erupted into mumblings of disbelief, and some stared at the trio of warriors on the porch. Din stood in the middle, with Zakia and Cara on either side. The blonde smacked his arm at the declaration, the ice shards she called eyes rolling. "Stars, Mando."

"You think you can do better?" He snarked, nuding her ribs with his elbow.

Cara snorted. "Can't do much worse."

Much to Din's relief, the dark-haired woman stepped forward. "I know this is not the news you wanted to hear."

"You took the job!" They protested. Din bristled, but he knew they villagers couldn't comprehend the danger. They had never experienced the carnage that an AT-ST was capable of.

"We didn't know about the AT-ST when you found us." Zakia remarked, lips dropping into a frown.

"What is that?" It was one of the two men who initially met Zakia and Mando who spoke.

"The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn't tell us." Cara returned, eyes catching Din's visor and Zakia's icy ones before turning back to the crowd.

They all murmured their protests, begging for help. Din's eyes landed on Winta, who cradled the Child to her chest and pressed into her mother's side as the agitation grew.

"We have nowhere to go." Omera spoke directly to them, and Din watched the exchange carefully. Zakia chewed on her cheek, puckering the already mangled skin. He could read her eyes, and the pity in them. The village was being hunted, just as he, Zakia, and the Child were. They couldn't run away like he had. Their whole lives were rooted in this one place, and it was a place Din and Zakia had both agreed that they wanted to stay in.

"Sure you do." Cara's words pulled him out of his reviere. "This is a big planet."

The villagers began to rile once again, speaking of their family's history in the village. It became blatantly clear that they were wholly opposed to leaving. Din considered the thought. They could train these people. Teach them how to shoot, how to fight. But going into battle with an AT-ST was a whole different story.

"I'm sorry. We understand your reluctance, but there are only three of us." Zakia spoke up, surprising Din. The pity had not left her gaze, but it was evident she cared more for their safety than their village. Things could be replaced.

"Look around! There's at least twenty here. We can learn!"

"I've seen that thing take out entire companies of soldiers in a matter of minutes!" Cara exclaimed, looking to Zakia and Mando for help. The former nodded in agreement, but Mando leaned against the wood hut, internal debate raging.

What was happening to him?

"We're not leaving." Omera insisted. Her eyes darted from Zakia to Din, pleading for support from someone who could sway the shock-trooper's opinion.

"You can't fight an AT-ST." Zakia reiterated Cara's statement, blue eyes shifting across the crowd. "I'm sorry."

"Unless we show them how."

Both women whirled on their heel to face the Mandalorian. Cara maintained a neutral expression, but the concern in her eyes was clear. Zakia simply stared before brushing by him into the villagers were too busy whooping and cheering to notice the exchange, but Cara cocked a brow.

"You got your work cut out for you." She said, stepping off the porch.

Mando glanced down at her, mind already planning their training. He had the guns here, but there were other weapons in the ship he hadn't brought. "We'll have to make a trip back to the Crest, but-"

Cara chuckled. "Not with the villagers."

She disappeared into the small crowd, and Din stared at the empty space she had occupied. He knew Zakia had been strained after all of their sudden lifestyle changes, and the added stress of the Walker seemed to stretch her further. Din had hoped the decision would make her happy- if they were to stay there with the kid, it had to be safe.

Biting the inevitable bullet, the Mandalorian turned on his heel and left the people to their devices. Inside their dwelling, Zakia was sitting on the small futon near the windowsill with a blank gaze pointed towards the treeline. Mando took a moment to cover their door with a canvas and pull the drape over the window. She didn't flinch as he came and sat beside her in the now-darkened room.

"You're angry." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not." Zakia rubbed her eyes as if trying to wash the emotion away.

"Then you are..?" Din never was good at gauging a woman's mood, and he assumed it wasn't the best time to guess.

"I don't know. Hormonal?" Zakia supplied.

Din flinched, and she lifted her head to look at him.

"Don't worry it's not serious. Just, between the shootout and the kid, and everything else. I'm a little frazzled. I want to stay here, but these people can't fight a Walker, Din." Zakia leaned into his side, nudging her hands beneath his cuirass and holding onto his undershirt.

"Maybe they'll surprise you." He thought of Omera and her child, and didn't doubt Zakia inferred something from his statement.

"Speaking of," Zakia set her chin on his pauldron. "It seems that you made quite a connection with Omera."

"She's very kind." Mando said, hand moving from his lap to stretch across Zakia's shoulders.

"I noticed." Zakia tapped her nails against his beskar, and Mando wished they were on his skin. "I think she likes you."

Din snorted, and the modulator changed it into a strangled sound that Zakia giggled at.

"For real! Maybe I'll take the Crest and go back to bounty hunting. I'll leave you here with the widow." Her face was serious, but her words were teasing. "Really though, I think she's hiding something."

"What would that be?"

"I don't know, Din, I just feel it." Zakia told him. "I'm good at people."

Their training began the next morning. Mando worked with blaster skills, Cara with staff and bayonetting, and Zakia with preparation. The blonde was teaching them how to put their wooden fence up, and where to dig out the ponds to create a trap for the Walker. She only paused when they began target practice across camp. Her group continued working as she strolled to Mando's side. The villagers were firing one by one down the line. Each missed or ricocheted, until they reached the end. Omera stood there with a repeat blaster to her shoulder, and fired off near twenty shots that hit the target dead center each time.

Mando tilted his head in curiosity, and Zakia's elbow was once again in his ribs. "Told you."

When sunset fell and Zakia was strapping on her holsters so they could draw the enemy out, she noticed a presence on the porch where Mando stood. Omera stepped up quietly, and Zakia narrowed her eyes. She was a sweet woman, that was a fact, but she was hiding something. There was no reason that a villager from Sorgan would have ever had weapons training as she demonstrated.

"You'll be departing soon." Zakia could hear Omera's voice from her position on the bedroll. She finished strapping her boots and listened closely.

"And when we return, we'll be coming in hot." Mando replied. Zakia looked towards them, and her eye twitched at the proximity. She caught herself shortly after, sitting up straight so quickly she almost had whiplash.

She was jealous.

Zakia almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it, and a short guffaw broke through her lips. She knew the Mandalorian would never give anyone a chance except her, and she was comfortable in their relationship. What she was feeling came from somewhere deep and instinctual.

"Are you okay?"

Zakia shook her head to clear it, looking up at the form in front of her. Cara was ready to go, guns on her hips and hair freshly tied back. The blonde stood, striding out of the hut with Cara to where Mando was waiting. Zakia couldn't help the urge to touch him, and reached a hand to the underside of his pauldron. Din looked to her as she initiated the contact, and she would imagine his eyes were confused.

"Are we ready?" Zakia asked, repossessing her hand.

"Yes. Clear on the plan?" Mando asked aloud, boots whispering on the grass they stood on just outside of their Walker booby-trap.

"Draw them here and bring the Walker. We'll take it down, and then handle the raiders." Cara recited.

Zakia nodded in agreement as they headed into the forest to end Sorgan's conflict once and for all.