Author's Note

God, I don't mean to keep ghosting you guys, I promise. Just...real life. Real life has been sucking a lot. But I'm still writing. And I think about you guys every day. I don't always respond to reviews, but I read every single one, and I can't even begin to express how happy your words make me. It makes real life suck a little less.

Thanks for sticking with me.

Go onward and enjoy!


A Nice Day

It starts as such a pleasant day.

Jakku's sun radiates along the barren wastes of the planet. The sweat trickling down Mahin's face offers little relief. Not even the shade cast from the tents of the scavengers' market seem to do anything to quell the heat. The child sits in his satchel hanging at her hip, cooing unhappily as he tries to escape the hot, arid air by burying himself as far down in the bag as possible.

However, a smile tugs at Mahin's lips, the heat of the day almost completely unnoticed.

She digs through a crate of engine parts propped on a rickety table in front of her, looking for a stabilizer compatible with the Razor Crest's hyperdrive. Ship salvage stretches along the sands farther than she can see, sorted into messy clumps and piles and haphazard boxes for customers to search through. Tents mark the individual sellers—the teams of people who laboriously scour dilapidated starships for salvageable parts. The carcasses of hundreds of ships litter this planet from wars that still haunt the minds of these people, sticking as thoroughly as the grains of sand that never fully washes out of their clothes.

But the parts—the parts are good and plenty and very, very valuable. And since the ships here date as far back as the Clone Wars, it's quite easy to find pre-Empire scrap that will work with the Crest.

Ah, glorious scrap, Mahin thinks as she shifts over to a different box. She really couldn't be happier.

Mahin and the kid wander the market as they wait for Mando. He's somewhere in this maze of tents, hunting down one of the scrappers as a bounty. Hopefully, no one Mahin buys from.

She eyes the Rakata she hands credits to for the needed stabilizer. Probably not them. Yeah, she doesn't know what Mando's bounty looks like, but Mando would be next to her if it was anyone around this part of the market.

Probably. No, definitely. So they're fine here so long as they don't wander too much.

All desire to wander the market some more flies out the window, though, as Mahin searches through a pile of compression coils. A prickling feeling crawls up the back of her neck. The feeling of being watched. Normally, she could brush it off as paranoia. On the run as long as she's been, the feeling of being watched never really goes away and is almost never true.

But the Force pokes her in the back of her mind as well, a burst of caution that instantly has Mahin on high alert.

She doesn't show it. She keeps her head down, continues looking through the scrap piles, idle and as calm as can be. As she does, she sneaks glances out of the corner of her eye, using her peripheral vision to catch anyone sneaking glances at her.

Bingo.

A man at her eleven o' clock, tall, long coat despite the heat, and a wicked scar running down the side of his neck. At his side also stands a droid.

An IG unit. Lethal and designed for the hunt.

Not good. So, so not good.

And it was such a nice day.

Mahin digs around in the crate a bit more, shakes her head like she can't find what she's looking for, and then wanders away. She forces herself to walk at a sedate pace as she weaves through the tents, making her path a bit meandering but steadily heading in the direction of the Razor Crest.

Don't seem too eager. Stay normal. Stay calm.

After a few minutes of walking, she stops at another tent like something catches her eye, squatting down to look at a few parts laid out on a tarp on the ground.

She throws a surreptitious glance over her shoulder when she stands back up.

The man and IG are definitely following them.

Mahin gets walking again, a bit faster this time, casually stuffing her hands in the pockets of her coveralls as she goes. Her fingers wrap around the comm in her pocket. She clicks the talk button twice to send two bursts of static.

Her signal to Mando. That she's in trouble and needs help now.

She doesn't know how far Mando might be from them, but the comm has a built-in tracker, so he can find them no matter where they go. She doesn't know Jakku, though, has never been here and doesn't know any safe places to hide.

The ship. They just need to get to the ship. It isn't far. They parked just on the outskirts of the market in a free patch of hardened desert ground. Jakku doesn't have an actual port so ships just park a bit everywhere, any place safe enough that ships won't sink into the sands. If she stays in the crowd, keeps innocent bystanders in sight, then she should be able to make it. So long as these hunters care about possibly hurting innocent bystanders in any crossfire. Since they haven't started shooting already, the human at least might. She can fly her and the kid out into the desert for Mando to meet up with them.

She stops dead in her tracks when the Razor Crest comes into view.

No one seems to be watching their ship, waiting for an ambush, meaning it's probably just the two bounty hunters after them. However, they took precautions. Three very problematic precautions.

There's a gravity lock attached to all three of the Razor Crest's landing gear. The locks slide onto either side of the landing gear feet and clamp down from the top with tractor beam technology to physically keep ships from leaving the ground. Even if she punches the Crest into full throttle, they're not going anywhere.

Kriff.

Mahin throws caution aside and breaks into a sprint. If they can't fly out of here, then their best chance is to just hole up in the Crest to wait for Mando.

Mahin runs, lungs burning as she struggles to move her feet in the sand. She hears mumbled cursing as the man gives chase behind her. The IG won't be able to go very fast in this, at least. It'll be forced to walk. She expects blaster fire to break out, but surprisingly, neither of them starts shooting.

They must not want to risk it. Not just because of innocent bystanders. They want to bring her and the kid in alive.

Good. That means they have a chance.

Mahin uses her control cuff to open up the ship's side door. She gets inside and slams the door closed again before the bounty hunters can get within even ten yards of her.

The man's fist bangs angrily against the side of the hull, making Mahin jump. She grits her teeth as her fingers fly over the keys on the control panel on the wall. The panel beeps with a high-pitched chirp, security protocols engaging.

Mahin sags against the wall. Her entire body shakes as the ache from pushing herself so hard from the run sets in. Every breath feels like knives slicing through her chest. She closes her eyes, concentrating on just breathing as she presses a hand to the child through the bag. He coos back at her. Still there. Still in one piece.

Safe. They're safe now. She updated the Crest's security herself shortly after coming aboard. Nothing can hack through her system. No way the hunters can get inside. She's sure of it.

Until she catches the sound of a blowtorch igniting right on the other side of the door. No, not a blowtorch, she realizes with dawning horror. A plasma torch. The IG must be equipped with one.

A plasma torch can easily cut through durasteel. It's only a matter of time before they get in.

Running on instinct, Mahin shoves the kid into Mando's sleep compartment and then climbs in after him, closing and locking the hatch behind her. Hopefully, if the hunters do get in, they'll check the cockpit and her room first. This should buy them at least a little more time and gives the hunters one more door they'll have to cut through.

The plasma torch sizzles and hisses like an angry snake outside the ship as the IG works on cutting a way in.

Mahin fumbles for the comm in her pocket as her other hand pulls her blaster from its holster. "Mando," she says shakily into the comm, shuffling to the back of the bunk. The child coos softly behind her, unsure and scared with his face pressed against the small of her back. "Mando, come in."

"I'm on my way, Mahin," Mando says, trying to go for calm but Mahin can still hear the panic tightening his voice. "I'm almost there. Where are you exactly?"

"We're locked in the ship."

"Then just take off," he urges her.

"I can't. They put gravity locks on the landing gear."

"Dank ferrik," Mando growls. "Bounty hunters?"

"Definitely."

"How many?"

"I think it's just two of them. A man and an IG unit." Mahin clutches her blaster more tightly in her hand, propping it on her folded knees. "They're cutting their way in with a plasma torch. I don't...I don't know how much longer before..."

"I'm almost there, cyar'ika. I promise, I'm almost there."

The child whimpers against her back. Mahin shuffles around, curling an arm around him to draw him into her lap. He looks up at her with big, scared eyes, his little three-fingered hands clutching the front of her shirt.

"I know, ad'ika, I know. But you heard him. Mando said he's on his way." She grabs Mando's blanket that she made him from where it's tucked in the netting above her head, wrapping it around her and the kid. The child instantly quiets. Mando's scent clings to the blanket, forest and gun oil. Maybe the child finds it comforting, just as much as Mahin does.

"He'll be here," she says softly, clutching the blanket around them with one hand while her other hand keeps its death grip on her blaster. "He'll come for us."

Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Mahin can't tell. Time seems to crawl as she listens to the fizzle of the plasma torch, just waiting. All she can do is wait.

The torch suddenly cuts off. Silence echoes in her ears as she strains to make out any other sounds. Shouting? The clang of the cut-out hull dropping to the ground? The stomping of boots along the metal grating?

But nothing. She hears nothing.

The child fusses in her lap and she shushes him softly, raising her blaster from her knees to aim steadily at the door.

She hears the outer door open—not break or fall away but open—and her heart lodges itself in her throat. How did they get the door open like that?

Feet stomp against the metal grating of the hold, wandering around everywhere, until a modulated voice calls out, "Ner ka'ra? It's alright. It's safe. You can come out, cyar'ika."

Mahin hesitates for a moment. What if this is a trick? What if they have Mando at gunpoint? But he wouldn't have called her ka'ra and cyar'ika, then. He would only call her that if it really is safe.

Mahin uses the tip of her blaster to press the button to open the door. Mando turns at the sound, shoulders visibly slumping in relief when he sees them.

There's a line of melted metal in the ship door about two feet long, but the door wasn't breached. Mando stopped them before they could. They really are safe.

"Hey," Mando says softly as he takes three quick strides to the compartment, falling to his knees in front of them. He places a hand on Mahin's knee, squeezing gently, his other hand patting the kid's head from where he peeks out of the blanket. "Are you both okay?"

"I think so," she whispers, body shaking as the adrenalin slowly starts to ebb away. She places her gun down next to her before she accidentally does something stupid. She then grabs Mando's sleeve and tugs.

He rises all the way up on his knees and leans forward, wrapping his arms around her waist to drag her to him. Mahin curls her legs underneath her and leans against Mando's chest, the child nestled between them in his cocoon of blanket and arms.

Mahin takes in a big breath, holds it, then lets it out slowly, resting her head against Mando's shoulder. That was close. It feels like they've been having a lot of close calls lately. The Empire getting closer and closer to catching up to them.

Will they really be able to keep this up? Constantly running, constantly staying just one step ahead? How long before they finally trip and fall?

Mahin closes her eyes, pushing those thoughts away and just focusing on the feeling of being in Mando's arms. Safety and comfort. Warmth and cool metal. Strength and determination. Forest and gun oil.

Here—right here—everything is okay. Nothing can get them. Not bounty hunters. Not the Empire. No one. Mando will keep them safe, just as he always has.

"I'm sorry," Mando suddenly says as his arms tighten around her.

Her brow furrows. She wants to look at his face, see where his head's at, but it won't do her any good, anyway, and so she keeps her head resting on his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"You'd still be safe on Ulta-7 right now if I hadn't come along. How many times have you almost gotten caught since coming with us?" He sighs deeply, arms loosening from around her until he barely hangs on. "Maybe I should just take you back to Nevarro. You'd be with your covert, then, and they'll probably keep you a lot safer than me."

"What?" Mahin asks, practically a screech. She suddenly pulls back, setting the child down at her side with the blanket tucked around him. He looks back and forth between her and Mando curiously, sensing the sudden tension but not understanding what's wrong. "You are not leaving me on Nevarro."

"You'd be safer that way, cyar'ika," Mando argues gently.

"No!" She pokes him right in the center of his chest plate, making him rock back slightly. "I had a chance to stay on Nevarro before. The alor asked me if I wanted to stay, and I said no. I want to stay with you, and the kid. I am safe with you and there's nowhere else I'd rather be." Her throat tightens as she valiantly tries to ignore the growing stinging in the backs of her eyes. "You...you promised me, once, that you wouldn't leave me. You swore. So unless you actually want me gone—"

"No," he answers quickly, drawing her closer. "No, I don't want you gone. But, Mahin—"

She shakes her head firmly. "No. No buts. You promised and I want to stay. So I'm staying."

He sighs again but relents. And she doesn't think she imagines the relief in his voice when he says, "Alright. You're staying."

"Good." She leans into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist as his arms tighten around her again. As they should be. "So are those bounty hunters gone?"

"I took care of them."

Meaning they're dead, then. "Did the IG's emergency protocol kick in and explode?"

"No, I disabled the protocol before it activated."

"Excellent." She tucks her face against the side of his neck. "Then we're going to stay like this for five more minutes, and then I'm going to hack into that IG's processor, get the disable code for the gravity locks, and then we can get out of here."

Mando chuckles, running a hand up and down her back before sliding up to cup the back of her neck. "Whatever you say, ner ka'ra."

It started as such a nice day. The middle wasn't so great, but it seems to be ending pretty nice, too.


Author's Note

Mahin is a strong woman that can kick some serious ass, but you know what, I still can't help but have a weakness for Din coming in to save the day. She'll get some to do some ass-kicking soon, promise.

But first, we have more fluff and a chapter that is a personal favorite of mine. And I'm sure it'll become one of yours, too.

Hope you enjoyed, PLEASE REVIEW, and see you all next time!


Translations

Cyar'ika - sweetheart

Ad'ika - little one

Ner ka'ra - my star