SUGGESTED LISTENING:
Eating Alone - Harry Gregson-Williams & John Powell (from Shrek) | ...partners
People Die at the Fair - Joel McNeely (from A Million Ways to Die in the West) | ...tova's run
The Incident - Peter Nashel (from I, Tonya) | ...he's gone
Ride the Dragon - Harry Gregson-Williams & John Powell (from Shrek) | ... ok I don't have a specific place for this one but it's the ultimate girl go get your man track so it's goin on the list ?ￂﾠ

"He's not even cuffed…"

Cara, Din and I stared down at the unconscious body of Gyddes Vank that Din had just dropped at her feet.

"Has he been tranqed the whole time?" She asked us with a raised eyebrow. Din and I exchanged a look.

"He did wake up…" I began.

"It turned out he was more annoying awake than asleep, so we gave him another dose," finished Din.

Cara nodded with an I-would've-done-it-too expression on her face. She held out a bag of credits, and Din took it.

"Alright," she said, stooping down and picking him up by his arm. She draped it around her shoulders so that he hung next to her like a rag doll. "I'm taking him to the holding vault out at the internment facility a few clicks west — he's not missing his court date this time."

"Bye," I called as she dragged him over to her speeder.

"I hope he gets strung up by his thumbs," Din muttered poisonously.

"Jeez," I said, looking over at him. He shrugged.

"He's a handsy chuff-sucking leech. Hung by the thumbs is better than he'd get if he was stuck with me."

I bit back a smile. To be honest, I wouldn't mind if he got a little thumb-hanging either.

"Here," said Din, taking a handful of credits out of the bag and pocketing it. He handed the bag to me. "Your share."

I took it and felt the weight, then yanked it open and peered inside.

"Mando, this is half."

He shrugged.

"You did half the work."

"Yeah, but…" I shook my head in disbelief, counting the credits in my head. "I'm on your crew, you don't have to give me this—"

"Come on," he murmured in a low voice. "I'm not your boss. We're partners now."

My gaze snapped up to him as my breath hitched in my throat.

Partners. It was the first time I'd heard him refer to us that way, and hearing it felt like sliding into a warm bath — easy and relieving and comfortable.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes - it was still sleek and wavy from the party the night before, and I'd made the subconscious (alright, conscious) decision to leave it loose for the day. It sounded so stupid... but something in me could tell that Din became just the slightest bit more flustered when it was down, and the petulant, impulsive kid in me - the same one who had flirted with him shamelessly in the snow back on that creepy, spider-filled cave planet - was winning out.

I tightened the cord around the bag and utility-pocketed it.

"Okay, partner," I said with a half-smile. "Where to next?"

"No job lined up," he answered with a bit of a weary sigh. "I should…"

"What?" I asked, when he failed to finish his sentence.

"This thing," he muttered with an acidic tone, tapping the Darksaber where it was hitched on his belt. "I wish Bo-Katan had just taken it. Now I've got to bring it back to my people, and… it's going to be complicated."

"Because of the Darksaber?" I asked.

"Because I'm an apostate." He looked up at me, unmistakable pain in his voice. "I broke the Mandalorian creed. I'm not… according to the creed, once a Mandalorian removes their helmet in front of others, the helmet isn't meant to be put on again."

I didn't want to point out the obvious — that he was, in fact, still wearing it — so I stayed attentively silent.

"My point is," he continued. "I don't know how I'll be received. I don't even know where to find them anymore, they've left Nevarro."

"Cara said she thought she knew where," I recalled. "When she gets back, we can figure it out."

He nodded. His body was tense and I could sense hurt and worry and fear in him, buried clumsily beneath a layer of cool stoicism.

"In the mean time…" I said, slowly. "We could spend today… having a little fun…"

"Fun?" He echoed the word like it was in a foreign language.

"Yes," I nodded. "You know, fun — not work, not almost dying every five minutes, just… fun."

He shifted his weight and let out a slow, thoughtful breath.

"There's a smaller settlement south of Nevarro city," he said after a moment. "I haven't seen it since it was built up. We could… go look at it. I guess."

"That's the spirit," I chuckled, and we headed back to the Arrowhead to pull out the speeder.

Sure enough, the town of Tova's Run was a small but bustling up-and-comer. We parked the speeder in a mini port just inside the entryway arch and I looked around, eagerly. It was about the size of Mos Pelgo, centered around a long stretch of market with seemingly every species in the galaxy haggling or trying to make a trade for something new. We strolled for a while, marveling at the new — and sometimes quite terrible — architecture of the buildings going up toward the edge of the town. We came to a stall selling attractive and odd-looking trinkets.

I picked up a small, smooth pyramid-shaped thing that looked like it had been made out of the very rock beneath our feet — it was surprisingly heavy.

"What's this for?" I asked the saleswoman. She was tall with an amphibian-looking face and an eager smile.

"They're decorative!" She exclaimed, holding a few others up. "You don't want your ship's dash looking empty and dull, do you?"

"Do we?" I asked Din, turning to him with wide, concerned eyes. I heard a small laugh through his vocoder.

"They don't just come in stone," continued the woman, determined to make a sale. "We have a whole range!"

She swept her long fingers over an array of little shapes, made from all sorts of materials. I smiled, picking up one of the pyramids made from shiny, polished silver.

"Grogu would love this one," I mused sincerely, looking over at Din again.

"Yeah," he said, and I could hear a sad smile. He reached into a utility pocket and pulled out a couple credits. "We'll take it."

As we walked away from the stall, he clutched it lovingly in his hand.

"How do you think he's doing?" I asked.

"I don't know," he rumbled. "Probably having fun throwing stuff around all day."

"Yeah," I said with a laugh. "Next time we see him, we can tell him we're not walking anymore, he has to carry us with his powers."

He let out a chuckle, with a little note of happy surprise that I had said "next time we see him".

We didn't know if or when we would ever see him again, but it was reassuring to dream about it.

We wandered past what looked like a driving range, with large metal target boards at the end of long lanes. Tourists were paying a grandiose Yuzzum to take their shots with silenced blasters or small vibroblades. We watched as a Rodian couple did their best — almost entirely missing the board, but having a grand old time.

"So," mused Din. "We know you're a great shot. We know you're a master manipulator—"

"Excuse me?" I scoffed.

"Well, you got that idiot kid to just walk into the woods with you, what would you call that?"

"Alcohol," I said drily.

"Fine," he said. "What other skills are you hiding?"

Something about the way he said it made my heart pick up it's pace. It was playful and curious, and I instantly thought of the spectrum of ways that question could be meant.

"Apart from my excellent babysitting and the fact that I can close a bar in under three minutes by myself?" I put my hands on my hips, looking up at him with a challenging expression. "What other skills do you need?"

He tilted his head ever so slightly.

"Hey, just to be clear, I don't need you to be a great shot. I have that covered pretty well."

"Yeah, if the target is standing still," I teased, taking a step toward him. He didn't respond for a moment, and I wondered if I'd been too harsh and offended him, but he shook his head ever so slightly and a low chuckle rumbled through his vocoder.

"You think you're a better shot than me?"

He's enjoying this, I thought with a little thrill.

"I don't think anything," I retorted, raising an eyebrow. "The stats speak for themselves."

"You haven't been keeping track," he said, closing the distance between us even more, so that our faces were only a foot apart — or they would be if it weren't for his helmet.

"Not exactly," I replied, trying not to swallow or breathe too heavily — my nerves had begun to swim. "But I think we both get the idea."

He leaned in, slowly and ever so slightly, and for one delusional moment I thought he was going to kiss me — until I remembered the million pounds of context sitting between us like a massive boulder.

Finally, he spoke.

"Let's settle this," he rumbled with an amused edge. "Right now."

"You're stepping over the line," he called.

I cocked a half smile and tried not to infer a double meaning.

"Relax, bounty hunter," I murmured, raising the vibroblade and aligning it with the target in front of me. "You'll have your turn to flame throw the whole board in a minute."

I heard him chuckle behind me.

The vibrations of the weapon made it difficult and bizarre to aim. When the tip of the shuddering blade covered the center target like a scrim, I carefully wound my arm back and extended it with full but nimble force. The blade spun toward the board and landed haphazardly in the second ring.

"Not bad," said Din. I shrugged, narrowing my eyes grumpily at the blade.

"I was warming up," I muttered with a half smile.

Din stepped up to the line, tapping the flat of the blade on his gloved palm and looking down at me.

It may not have been eye contact — I'd never know, with his face forever obscured — but whatever it was, this teasing, challenging connection... was intoxicating. Holding my gaze, he held it up and flipped the switch, bringing the blade to manic life. Then he turned to face the target and threw. It clipped mine, knocking it from it's place on the board.

"Hey!"
He turned to me and shrugged, smugness in his body language.

"You didn't do that on purpose," I protested. "You were aiming for the center and missed."

"Keep telling yourself that," he said with dry humor, and I knew under his helmet he was smirking. I laughed.

A little droid shuttled down the lane to the board to retrieve our vibroblades.

"You know for a girl who doesn't like weapons, you're smiling a lot."

I looked at the ground, my grin faltering a little.

"Yeah," I nodded, thoughtfully. "There's been a lot of… recontextualizing, I guess. Since I took up with you."

I looked back up at him and considered elaborating on that further, but the vibroblades appeared in front of us again.

"Round two," said the little metal creature in a buzzy monotone.

Saved by the droid.

I took another shot and landed the knife in the second ring again, this time a little more precisely. When Din took his turn, he tried mirroring my body language — lining himself up sideways and aiming with a long outstretched arm. The blade flew through the air and landed opposite mine on the other side of the second ring.

The little droid scooted down the lane again, and we exchanged a competitive look.

"Round three: Tiebreaker," buzzed the droid when it returned.

"Should we make it a little more interesting?" I asked, turning my vibroblade on.

"What did you have in mind?" He asked, and again, my heart turned over in my chest.

"How about… loser buys lunch?"

I had almost said "Loser takes off his helmet," but I knew that would've been a step too far and I didn't want to do anything to unsettle this rapport.

"Deal," he said, gesturing for me to take the first shot. "You're making good money now, you can spare it."

I chuckled and shook my head, taking my position. I focused hard, holding the blade out, watching it shudder, hearing the electric hum, trying to feel the rhythm of the vibrations until it felt like an extension of my own hand. Finally, with a snap of my wrist I sent it piercing through the air, landing with a satisfying *thunk* in the dead center of the target board.

A surprised laugh escaped me as I realized what I'd done. I spun around to face Din, unable to control my grin.

"Well, I hope you brought enough credits with you, because I'm rapidly developing some very expensive taste…"

"Easy," he rumbled wryly. "You haven't won yet."

"By all means," I said melodically, gesturing for him to take my place. "If you think you can beat that…"

He stepped up, staring me down as he passed me.

Something in me knew he was getting a sly enjoyment out of me teasing him. The idea flashed through my head that I wouldn't mind him taking me back to the ship and putting me in my place it in a very particular way…

The thought made me wrench my eyes away, almost laughing at myself as I stared purposefully at the ground.

Easy, Moss, I thought, taking a deep breath. Get it together.

I looked back up at him, his broad shoulders pivoting as he lined up his throw. I was trying not to want him. It was pointless to want him. With his litany of obscure and militant religious rules, our culture clash, and the tenuous nature of our partnership — that I cherished more than anything — wanting him would only lead to my own misery.

But look at him…

He crooked his arm and pitched the vibroblade with intense force. In a split second, it sunk into the board directly next to mine, also in the winner's circle. An involuntary smile took up residence on my lips, and he turned to face me.

"You are evenly matched," buzzed the droid before emitting a triumphant-sounding little musical interlude.

"I guess we are," he murmured, his tone inscrutable.

For a moment, we just looked at each other.

"So," I said unsteadily. "Who buys?"

"Eh," he said, his low, playful tone back. "We'll arm wrestle for it."

He strode out of the driving range, leaving me to jog after him with an incredulous laugh.

"You know that's not fair," I protested, walking alongside him. "Or would you be up for a 'sweet-talk random men'-off?"

"Hey," he deadpanned. "You never know, I might be better at that than you think."

He's got me there, I thought with a smile. I could only imagine how some gentlemen would react to a strong silent muscular type like Din turning on the charm.

"You know what," I said coolly. "I'll buy. It's the least I can do after holding back on purpose and letting you tie with me."

"Yeah, right," he chuckled, then he slowed. "Wait… you're kidding, right?"

I laughed and strode ahead. The crowd was thick and people and creatures from all over were filling the air with noise — haggling, hawking, fighting, cheers-ing. When I broke through to the edge of the street, I turned back with a teasing smile.

"I'll take you up on that arm wrestle—" I began, but stopped when I realized that Din wasn't behind me.

"Mando?" I called, standing on my tiptoes. I strained my eyes for the shimmer of beskar, looking for his helmet bobbing above the masses, but I saw nothing.

It didn't make any sense. He was right behind me, I thought, furrowing my brow.

I didn't panic right away. Instead I dawdled on the sidewalk, looking up and down the street, waiting for him to appear with a skewer from a meat vendor or another target challenge… but he didn't come.

After a while I tried calling out his name again. Nothing.

Maybe he went to find lunch, I thought to myself when it felt like ages had passed. I strode purposefully in the direction we had been headed, scanning for taverns. I came to one quickly and hurried inside, certain I would find him waiting at a table, but… nothing.

My old fears came slamming back to the surface. Suddenly every face in the place was menacing, everyone was a potential threat. I didn't realize just how much safer I truly felt with Din, how much I had grown in confidence, until I found myself alone again and almost paralyzed with paranoia.

I tried waiting there for a while, but eventually I ventured back out into town and retraced our steps. I walked for what felt like hours. I snaked up and down the side streets and retreaded every path. He was gone.

I had an ominous, heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach that something terrible had happened.

I also had a twist of fear that maybe, just maybe… I had crossed the line. I had pushed too hard, been too openly flirtatious, made him uncomfortable. And he'd left me here.

My brain instantly overrode that ridiculous line of thinking.

He'd never just leave me here, it said sternly. … right?

I grasped my necklace through my shirt and squeezed it hopefully for a moment, as though it could work in reverse and track him down. I had kept it on, even though the mission was over, keeping it nestled under my neckline, enjoying the feeling of knowing that no matter what happened, we were linked. ... of course, that meant nothing if he went missing and he was the only one who could track me.

When morning turned into afternoon and there was still no trace of him, I ran to the speeder and headed back to Nevarro City as fast as the engine could take me.

Cara Dune's office was empty, save for the same slovenly Mythrol I had met the last time I was here. He was hunched over his desk, his chin on his hand, eating a pile of purple wafer cookies. He snapped to attention when I strode into the office with the energy of a cornered mudhorn.

"Is Cara back yet?"

"Unfortunately, no," he said, swiping crumbs from his chest. "The Marshal won't be back until this evening. Can I take a message?"

I grasped the scruff of his shirt and yanked him toward me, harshly.

"Get her on the comms," I snarled. "Now."

He nodded, a resentful but cowed look in his eye. I released him and he pulled out a comm pad, raising it to his mouth with a slightly shaky hand.

"Marshal, we have a situation here…"

The comm crackled and Cara's dull, irritated voice buzzed through the speaker.

"I swear to all that is volcanic on this karking planet, Mythrol, if you're bothering me to figure out how the computer works again I will have you put back in carbonite, do you understand?"

He opened his mouth to respond but I snatched the comm out of his hand.

"Cara, it's Kyra."

"Kyra?" Her voice instantly changed to concern. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"It's Din, he's gone."

"What do you mean 'gone'?"

"He disappeared," I stuttered, running a hand through my hair and beginning to pace. "We were in the market in Tova's Run and one minute he was there, the next he wasn't, I looked everywhere."

"He wouldn't have just left you—" she began.

"I know he wouldn't," I spat, panic in my voice bubbling up from the tiny twinge in my stomach that feared exactly that.

"Wait a minute, you were in Tova's Run?"

"Yeah."

She let out an exasperated breath.

"We've been having a little problem out there with the…" She said a word I didn't recognize, and the static on the line made it sound garbled and nonsensical.

"The Jawas?" I asked, furrowing my brow incredulously.

"Ja-Ho-Lis," said the Mythrol with exaggerated pronunciation. He tossed another wafer into his mouth. "They're a religious group."

"They're a cult," crackled Cara through the comms. "They live out near one of the volcanic craters. They… they do ritualistic sacrifices. Burn people to feed the volcano… At least that's what we've gathered."

My blood ran cold.

"What species are they?"

"We don't actually know," said Cara sounding frustrated with the situation. "They cover their faces — I don't think they're just one species. But some of them have got scaly hands, I think they might be Trandoshans, but who the hell knows."

I stopped pacing, trying to calm my breathing.

"And you… you think they took Din?"

"A few people have been disappearing in Tova's Run and the surrounding areas, and there have been sightings of these suckers in and around town. They also tend to go for more wealthy sacrifices so that they can pilfer their things and sell them on the black market. They probably saw credit signs when they saw him and his suit."

"Yeah, but… but it's Din," I said, almost laughing at the idea. "He's dangerous, he's practically made of beskar, how could they have gotten him?"

"I don't know," Cara said, sounding helpless. "Maybe… maybe he was distracted or something? I don't know."

I swallowed as my mind flashed back to that vivid, confusing dream I'd had not too long ago… maybe you're distracted…

"Okay," I said shakily, a lump starting to appear in my throat. "Okay, so wh— what do I do?"

"I'll be back tonight," she said seriously. "I don't know their exact location, they move around a lot — but I have an idea of where they might be. We'll go together and get him back."

"There isn't time," I said urgently, shaking my head. "I can't wait 'til tonight, I've gotta go now."

There was silence on the other end. I waited, already preparing my next argument.

"Okay," she said in a low voice. "There's a key drive in the third drawer in my desk. Take it downstairs and plug it into the panel on the third door to the left — that's my arsenal. Take whatever you need. Just lock it and take the drive with you when you leave."

I shot a look at the Mythrol, who had begun to salivate in every way other than physically — thank goodness.

"Thanks, Cara."

Downstairs I counted the doors swiftly. One, two, three — I plugged the drive into the panel and the door slid open with a clang. I stepped inside and let out a staggered breath.

"Dank Farrik," I breathed, my panic momentarily overshadowed by sheer awe. "Now this is an arsenal."

As I stormed past the Mythrol, my back laden with a duffel almost twice my size, he stood.

"Need any help—?"

"Nope," I barked. "Bye, Mythrol."

"Oh good!" He called, his voice dimming behind me as I strode away. "Because I was gonna get up and help but you seemed pretty capable and — okay, bye!"

I strapped down my cargo in the speeder and took a deep breath. "The foothills of the Yarga Fissure," Cara had said. "That's your best bet."

"Hang on, Din," I mumbled, revving up the engine. "I'm coming for you."