Recap: The Mandalorian showed Yska around his ship, laid out some rules, assured her of her safety, and then fucked her on his couch. All a little too unplanned for his liking.
Dedication: HeavyHearts, Leia66, and Selena_101 for dropping some love. THANKS TO EVERYONE FOR OVER 2000 hits!
The Mandalorian's Reward
By Noelle Scribe
Chapter Four - The Gifts
"Sir, may I join you in the cockpit?" Yska requested, picking at frayed threads on long sleeves.
The Mandalorian scanned her from head to toe, contemplating. "You may." He turned back to his console, flipping switches and priming the engines.
The girl hesitantly settled into the chair next to him, buckling the chest harness. "I've never been off-world before," she admitted, chewing her lip.
As he steered them into the sky, he glanced at her soft face as she watched the clouds fade away into the darkness of space. An innocent smile spread over those delectable coral lips, genuine and beautiful. So beautiful that it made his chest ache. That something so simple could light up her face like that... And that he had done that for her... He had to look away.
She turned to him gleefully, momentarily forgetting her wariness of him. "I'd always dreamed…," she turned back, pressing her fingers to the window, voice full of awe, "Never knew it would feel so magical."
His chest warmed. His lips tingled. The defection was spreading through his system faster than he'd anticipated.
He was being foolish, sentimental. Letting his passions get the better of him. The defection was exacting its toll on his reason and reserve. He needed answers to slow its progression. There were few accounts of the consequences of interrupting the Rite of Ardor, after all. Perhaps he should see if answers could be found on his home world - sooner rather than later - even if it was haunted by ghosts of his past.
But first, Makeb.
He typed the coordinates into the console and made the jump to hyperspace.
Yska stifled a quiet gasp. He watched her from the corner of his visor, picking up on her whisper, "It looks like nighttime snow on the windshield." He said nothing as she watched the stars pass them by for the first time, mapping the way the lights reflected in her eyes. The light made her pale angles all the more ethereal.
"So...where are we going?" Her question snapped him out of his reverie.
"Planet Makeb. The Hutt Cartel and the Republic are vying for control over the valuable mineral deposits. I picked up an Avesta Mining Corporation spy before meeting you yesterday. An old cartel contact wants him very badly." He leveled her with his gaze. "Conflict makes for good money. The Hutts pay well."
"Oh," Yska's stomach churned uncomfortably. Why did Makeb sound familiar? Why did the name instill dread? And why did she have a bad feeling about him doing this job? She'd known he was a bounty hunter and that it was dangerous work, of course. But...an uncomfortable thought struck her.
"Um...," she started, before doubt stopped her.
"Speak," he said, clicking some buttons and taking read-outs.
"What if you get hurt? What will happen to me?"
He paused his actions to face her. "Yska. I have been doing this for over two hundred years. I am very skilled at what I do, so you needn't worry about my safety or yours. However," he looked to the side, quickly weighing his options before speaking, "In the unlikely event that something unfortunate happens, all my property and my wards would go to the head of my clan. My clan is fair and the Code demands that they would look after any of my charges. You would not be destitute." He turned back to the console.
'Ward' was a nicer word for whatever Yska was to him. It sounded a lot better than slave, but she was under no illusions. The knot in her stomach loosened by a thread.
The thought of something bad happening to the bounty hunter left a sour taste in her mouth. Even though she didn't know him very well, he'd been kind and she didn't wish ill on him. If only he didn't have to trek into danger...on Makeb...
"Yska," his deep vocoder drew Yska from her thoughts. His baritone dropped even lower. "You were such an obedient girl for me earlier. Didn't I tell you that good girls get rewards?"
Yska's cheeks burned. "Y-yessir." She squirmed in her seat. She could still feel the stretch of him inside her.
"What would you like? If it's within my power to give, then it's yours."
"Hmmm. Well, since you seem like the quiet type - at least outside of the bedroom," she giggled, "how about you answer a question?"
Relieve flooded him at the sound of her laughter, even if it was at his expense. He took the fact that she'd felt comfortable enough to make a joke as a good sign.
"If it is a question I feel comfortable answering, then I will do so."
"Fair. I guess I'm wondering why you're not retired on some beach,sipping fruity drinks. If you've been doing this for so long, don't you have enough credits saved up to retire? You said earlier that money was no object..." She bit her lip, not sure if her position was secure enough to probe so deeply. But the curiosity was burning!
He shot her a look, raising a brow under his helm. A little impressed by her boldness, he decided to reward her with some truth. Besides, she'd been such an obedient girl for him earlier….
"I guess I don't like fruity drinks enough."
Yska laughed. "So he does have a sense of humor!"
"On occasion."
"But, seriously though…."
He sighed, "It's true that money is no object for me anymore. Hasn't been for a long time. I could have retired five times over by now."
"Then...why continue? Why not go home and settle in luxury?"
The Mandalorian pursed his lips. He wasn't sure if he wanted to encourage her prying, but he answered, regardless. "I have no home. I own no lands. I go on until I value something greater than the Code."
"Don't want to settle down someday? Maybe have a wife and family?" She cocked her head, the picture of naivety.
Long moments passed. Enough so that the silence made the young girl squirm. With a level voice, he commanded, "That's enough for today, human."
Yska nodded quickly, a tremor in her bones, "Yessir. Sorry, sir." She regretted her overly curious mind.
The atmosphere had turned cold and no amount of huddling could keep her in that cockpit...even if the stars were beautiful.
"Yska," Sid called. After the medical droid had given her a clean bill of health and installed the Mesh birth control system, Yska had curled up on the couch with her coat as a blanket. She hadn't known what else to do, regretting that she hadn't at least bought a book along with her new clothes. She'd been afraid of being a further nuisance or taking up too much space. But she startled at the robotic voice. "Yska, dinner is ready."
It was a simple meat and vegetable stew that she savored alone at the table. Personally, she would have used a few more spices, but she was grateful for such hearty fare. She felt full without allowing guilt to follow the small joy.
She sighed, rubbing her stomach contentedly.
After such a satisfying meal, she decided to walk it off and get a layout of the ship while she had the chance. She could take it all in without feeling scrutinized. The Mandalorian had said she had free rein, after all.
She'd already seen the captain's quarters, galley, and common room. The latter hadn't been much to write home about - especially from the view from her back. Maybe he wouldn't mind if she put a woman's touch to it eventually - it could actually be hospitable then. Even just a couple plants would make that recycled air feel fresh and pleasant.
She ambled down the corridor, passing panels with buttons and switches. A short walk brought her to an empty room that appeared to have been gutted some time ago. Bolts and bits of metal seemed to have been forcefully ripped...or pried...from their bearings. Blaster scoring marked parts of the floor and walls.
"The crew's quarters."
Yska jumped. Sid appeared out of nowhere, offering explanation.
"Announce yourself a bit earlier next time, would ya?" She patted her chest and exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Pardon me. I will endeavor to make more noise next time to alert you to my presence."
"Thanks." Yska turned back to the gutted room. There were a couple crates in the corner and a few scraps, but her eyes were drawn to those black smudges and jagged pieces of metal reaching out like claws. "What did you say this room was used for?"
"Crews' quarters. Bed bunks used to be bolted here and here," Sid dispassionately pointed to the jagged metal. "Thirty-five years ago, my master employed a biological crew. Five team members. Four slept in here."
"Where did the fifth member sleep?" She asked, wondering if there was another room on board.
"With my master," Sid answered mechanically. Oh.
"So...what happened to the crew?" She ventured into the room, eyeing those blaster scars with a pit in her stomach. She noticed a door to a small fresher tucked to the left.
"My master's companion, the first mate, plotted to steal my master's life savings for some months. She led the mutiny. A Deveronian pulled the bunks clear from their bolts to use as cover in the ensuing fight. They nearly succeeded in taking the ship."
"Almost," came the Mandalorian's deep bass from the doorway.
Yska spun around, but kept her wits this time. "Something tells me they aren't rotting in a jail cell for it."
"Bodies don't rot in space." Was that a touch of amusement in his vocoder? Perhaps pride?
He pushed off from the threshold, asserting his presence in the room. The room seemed smaller, even as Sid made its exit. "I was thinking...after I turn in my bounty on Makeb, we could get this room set up for you," he gestured nonchalantly, shifting something under his arm.
Yska looked around the plain metal walls, seeing potential. She'd never had her own room; growing up in an orphanage, her brief stint with Dex, and finally a dorm at the brothel. Her own space was a foreign concept...and something she would relish more than words could express.
"Thank you, sir," she ventured a small smile. He stood straighter, visor turning to the floor momentarily. His feet shuffled slightly. Yska was oblivious to the warrior's shift in energy as she envisioned her ideal room. "When will we make it to Makeb?"
"Three days, if all goes smoothly. Five at most. Oh," the Mandalorian extended his hand, offering the object he'd brought with him. Her eyebrows lifted. It was a datapad. "Had this laying around. It's outdated, but I thought it might bring you some entertainment. Has some vids, music, books, and games on it." He shrugged.
Growing up in a backwater orphanage on a nothing-special planet, datapads were expensive and therefore hard to come by. Only the head nun had owned one for business. There was a time Yska would have given her left arm for one - all of the orphans would have - just to watch a simple holovid.
New clothes, food, her own space, and a datapad...when she'd briefly wished the Mandalorian would rescue her from that brothel, she hadn't dared imagine he'd be so benevolent. Her eyes shimmered as she held onto the gift. "Sir...you are more generous than you know. Thank you for showing me kindness."
"This isn't kindness," he stated flatly. "It is basic decency to meet your chief needs."
"Well, in my experience, it is kindness. You didn't have to do all this." He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully as Yska continued. "I heard the other prostitutes talk... I'd accepted that a painful life was likely my fate." Her eyes took on a far-off look as she stared at his chest-plate. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I've never been encouraged to eat my fill or find a hobby or been given new clothes.
"For all I know, you could be hiding cruel intentions, but...I get the feeling you are the honorable warrior you appear to be." Yska glanced up at the Mandalorian hesitantly. "Although…my track record for judging character is pretty piss poor," she chuckled self-depreciatively. "The last guy I trusted sold me into this life."
The Mandalorian straightened up. "What was his name?"
Yska's eyes clouded, voice quiet. "Dex." She hung her head. "He said he cared about me."
Silence stretched. Yska cleared her throat, putting on a fake smile, waving her words away with a nervous laugh. "Sorry to bother you. I don't know why I'm telling you this."
The Mandalorian was quiet for a few moments as he chose his words. Yska started to regret opening her mouth in the interim, before the commando gently laid his gloved hand on her shoulder. His thumb moved to her jaw, tilting her chin up to face his visor.
"If I found it bothersome, I would not have asked. Today has been...abrupt." He tilted his head, voice soft. "Trust is intrinsic to comfort. I'm sure in time we will find our footing with each other. When that happens, there are things I will teach you about unconventional pleasures, but nothing like the pain you imagine. I, too, have heard and seen my share of horrors. I admit with no small amount of satisfaction that I have disposed of more than my fair share of cruel men."
He cupped her cheek in his large hand, indulging this unfamiliar urge to nurture for once. "I am not this Dex. I do not harm or betray those I care about." He shifted his weight into her space. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. He wove gloved fingers into her vanilla locks. "And I plan to accustom you to such a level of comfort that you will be unable to accept anything less than what you rightfully deserve. Do you understand?"
Her eyes glistened. Her throat tightened. All she could do was nod.
The Mandalorian had no doubt that he hadn't heard the worst of her past. He was under no illusions that he could know this girl after a mere day and a half. But he was a good judge of character. His intuition told him Yska's demureness was not an act. She was an innocent soul. It spoke to her great level of strength that she'd remained gentle in a life that had been designed to harden most. He could not make the same claim.
While her gentleness and submission made him stiff between his cuisses, he was unsettled. Submission borne of true fear was not something he wanted. At least...not as a default. His intuition wanted to heal her fear and see where her true inclinations lay; if beneath that fear lay a fiery disposition. If Yska would still submit to him even after she found and nurtured her strength...
His lips tingled.
What was it about this girl that evoked such strange emotions? That spurred the Defection of Ardor?
"We can start clearing this area tomorrow, if you want," he redirected, giving the human a few moments to collect herself.
"I'd like that," she said, clearing her throat and blinking rapidly.
"Come. Let's settle for the night. I'll show you the cargo hold tomorrow." He turned and she followed him out silently.
A couple boxes awaited them on the large bed - their purchases from earlier that morning. "Unpack your new clothes," he directed the girl, making a beeline for the smallest box. He hoped Yska would be pleased with the purchase. He tucked his secret into the side drawer, along with the bottles of lube.
"I'll be in the common room if you need anything," he said, marking his way to the exit.
"You're...you're not...staying?" Yska asked, looking up from her folding.
Was that a hint of disappointment in her tone? A gleam of worry in her eyes? Perhaps relief? His brows furrowed invisibly. "I...think it would be best for both of us to have our own space right now. After we finish business in Makeb, you'll have your own room."
Yska slowly started to unpack the new clothes again, keeping her eyes deliberately on the task. "But...isn't this your bed, sir? Wouldn't it be easier if I took the couch? I'm smaller and I'll bet you need privacy to take off your-"
"If I say you're sleeping in this bed, then that's what will happen." The last time he'd shared his bed with someone, he'd been stabbed in the back - literally. "Do you question this?"
Even though he hadn't intended to use such a harsh tone with a thing so delicate, part of the Mandalorian enjoyed watching the tiny girl shrink.
"N-no, sir," she whispered, clutching a trembling cotton shirt to her chest.
He sighed. He'd gone too far with her. "You needn't be frightened, little human. Finish with your clothes and get ready for bed. I'll wake you for the day cycle."
"Yessir," she nodded quickly, folding as fast as she could while fighting off the tremors. She hastily changed out of her clothes into a nightgown. He'd seen her naked before and he'd probably seen a lot worse, but Yska felt on edge again under the commando's unblinking, no-face stare.
She crawled under the covers to escape the chill, glancing up at the silver warrior.
Without a word, the Mandalorian turned off the lights and left.
It was pitch black, darker than any darkness that Yska had ever known, and she fought the panic creeping up her throat, reminding herself that she wasn't in the slave pens anymore.
Razzen-Va not a gentle person. Nor was he overly sensitive, or kind, or loquacious. He was harsh and reserved and his passions ran deep and a little dark. He knew he wasn't the type of man that his scared little human probably needed. He knew he wanted things that could break poor, sweet Yska.
And Razzen-Va did not want to break her.
As he sat on the couch - resigning himself to several nights in the confining, heavy Beskar armor - he berated himself for acting impulsively, roughly, passionately. He didn't fully know what he wanted with the girl, or how to care for her, or how this might affect his work, or what he was going to do. This was completely new for him. After more then two centuries of life, there weren't many new experiences left. But he did know one thing for certain:
Razzen-Va wanted to see Yska find her strength.
He just...wasn't sure how to help anyone do that...
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Updated 2/26/21 - 3241 words
Revised 7/16/23 - 3269 words