Suggested Listening:
Guys, I was so unimaginative on this one, I had film-score block I'm so sorry 😆
What songs would you suggest?
In the mean time, listen to:
The Armor - Ludwig Goransson
Invaders on Their Land - Ludwig Goransson
Brown Eyes - Ludwig Goransson
BETTER SUGGESTIONS NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISEEEE


Morak was a lush, green planet that had an ethereal sense of serenity and nature about it — until you stepped out of the rainforest onto a ledge and saw an ominous Imperial tunnel skewering the base of the mountain below — Which is exactly what we all found ourself doing that afternoon. That and bickering about who was going to supervise Mayfeld once he got inside the Imp base. Cara had volunteered first, but Mayfeld had vetoed the idea — and for good reason.

"Hey, as much as I'd like to take a road trip with Rebel-dropper over here, that's not gonna work."

"Oh yeah?" Cara raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Well," answered Mayfeld with a smug edge. "Because these Remnant bases are set up and run by ex-ISB. If you get scanned and your genetic signature shows up on any New Republic register, you're gonna be detected — and it's guns out."

"You sure do know a lot about Imperial remnants," observed Cara suspiciously.

"Hey, if you wanna accuse me of something then just say it!"

I exchanged an eye roll with Din.

"We don't have time for this," he interjected. "Fennec will go."

"No, I'm wanted by the ISB," Fennec said with a shrug. "I'll trip the alarm, too."

I felt my pulse quicken — I wasn't on any New Republic register, but I had spent my entire upbringing crossing paths with Imperial officers and mercenaries. If even one of them recognized me, it wouldn't just ruin my own anonymity, it would bring a mess down on every one of us.

"Fett?" Din turned helplessly to the other armored man.

"Let's just say they might recognize my face," he replied with an amused lilt.

"Okay, what about the silent princess over here?" Mayfeld pointed to me.

Silent princess, I thought with amusement. I bet that's a nickname Din never would've ascribed to me.

I didn't want to volunteer any information. I flashed a look at Din, shaking my head almost imperceptibly, and he seemed to understand.

"No."

"I'm not gonna steal your girl if that's what you're worried about! Besides, she's not my type." Mayfeld gave me the once over. "No offense."

"None taken," I replied, curling my lip in distaste.

"She's the best sharpshooter here," Din said stonily. "We need her covering the escape route."

I felt a swell of pride and avoided Fennec's gaze — realistically, we were probably equally matched, but I appreciated the praise all the same.

"Great," said Mayfeld. "So it's me goin' in alone."

"No way." Cara Dune shook her head. "The minute he gets inside, he'll tip 'em off — he'll be a hero."

"Hey, this wasn't my idea!" Mayfeld held his hands out and let out an incredulous laugh. "I'm doin' you guys a favor!"

"Deal's off," barked Cara. "I'm taking him back."

"I'll go."

I wheeled around to face Din, surprised to hear him volunteer himself.

"Hey buddy," chuckled Mayfeld. "I might be good at fast-talking, but I don't think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards. So unless you're gonna take off that helmet, it's gonna be me goin' in alone."

Take off his helmet?

I blanched at the idea. Even though I had spent quite a few nights now curiously exploring the possibilities in my mind of what he might look like under there, the last thing I wanted was for him to be backed into a corner.

"No," I said. "I can go. Fennec and Cara can cover the escape."

"I'll go," repeated Din, looking over at me. "But I won't be showing my face."

"Oh my God, this guy reeked!"

Mayfeld was perched in the open cargo doorway of the transport vehicle we had just raided, sticking his foot into the uniform boot of an Imperial transport soldier. I was grateful that Cara had simply knocked them unconscious before stripping them of their uniforms — I was frankly still reeling from the amount of death I had caused over the past few days, and I didn't feel ready to wade into those processing waters just yet.

Cara and I stood guard, scanning either end of the tunnel for incoming threats, while the men assumed their new identities as Imperial delivery boys. Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned to see Din walking toward us — only it wasn't him. I mean it was, but in another man's uniform he looked alien, like a stranger. He carried his own armor wrapped up in a duffel on his back.

"Wow," I said, smiling encouragingly despite the off-putting effect. "It's… like a whole new you!"

I couldn't help but notice how uncovered he was compared to his own armor. It was worrying, knowing how unprotected he would be — but also, I realized with a guilty feeling, it was strangely compelling seeing his legs in trousers and his arms in shirtsleeves. It's like he's a person, I thought, then immediately scolded myself for thinking such a stupid-sounding sentence.

"Oh… the shame!" Mayfeld laughed as he followed my gaze. "Now that right there is worth the price of admission."

He came to a stop in front of us.

"Wish I could say it looked good on you," said Cara with a wan smile. "…But I'd be lying."

Din held up a good-humored hand.

"Just make sure you take out the rooftop gunners, or we're never getting out of here."

"We got you," she smiled, nodding. She turned away, and Mayfeld caught her eye, attempting to share a jovial chuckle. Her smile dropped, replaced by a dangerous scowl. He winced.

Din approached me and leaned in, speaking quietly.

"Take care of this." He handed me his armor. "Keep it safe."

I immediately felt my arm muscles contract as the full weight of the armor pulled down on my hand. He wears this all day every day? I thought, my mind immediately, shamefully picturing how strong he must be, how muscular… Okay, that's enough, get a grip, Moss.

"I will," I promised, and he nodded in thanks.

"Be careful," we both muttered to each other at the same time.

"Hey guys," called Mayfeld impatiently. "Still on the clock, can you save your flirting for later?"

Din swept past me, shaking his head — Annoyed at Mayfeld or staunchly denying flirtation? I thought, fleetingly — and disappeared behind the truck to climb up on the other side. I found Cara's gaze and we rolled our eyes.

"You know, it's a shame you're not comin' along with us," Mayfeld teased Cara. "You've got such a sunny disposition! Can't imagine how much fun you are in one of these."

"Still on the clock," I called up to him. "Can you save your flirting for later?"

I caught a satisfied glimpse of his shocked face before the doors closed with a clang.

After we watched the transport truck scuttle unsteadily away, Cara and I hiked back up to the bluff. As we neared the crest, she turned to me.

"So, what's the deal, exactly? Is it that he can't take his helmet off, or that he can't show his face?"

"I'll be honest, Cara," I chuckled. "I was kind of hoping you'd know."

"Yeah, well…" She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "Sometimes I wonder if he even knows."

We stepped up over the crest where Fennec was waiting with the ship. I placed Din's armor carefully inside and watched Fett fly away discreetly to hide and await our call. Fennec, Cara and I began our long walk to where we would cover the exits and entrances of the Imperial holdout.

Suddenly, up ahead of us, a massive explosion shook the ground and flames roiled up in a smoking cloud. We froze, and my blood went cold. I looked to Cara, unable to breathe.

"It's okay," she reassured, her face white. "It's okay, that's too far ahead to be them. Let's just… stick to the plan."

I nodded, still holding every muscle tense. We kept walking, and terrible images of the truck in flames flashed in my mind. Cara moved closer to me.

"He's okay," she said under her breath and clapped a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"We better pick up the pace," said Fennec. "The only way this plan will work is if everybody moves fast."

We jogged up to the crest of the hill overlooking the base just in time to see two TIE fighters descend onto a transport truck — theirs, I realized, as I spied Din's unmistakeable form on top of the vehicle, squaring off alone against a horde of thieves. We watched in awe as the TIE fighters blasted the pirates into pulp and a cavalcade of troopers came out to meet the truck.

"I've never been more happy to see a TIE fighter," I muttered, exchanging relieved smiles with the other two. We watched the truck be shepherded into the facility, Din dropping down through the hatch just before they disappeared from view.

"And now," mused Fennec. "We wait."

Easier said than done.

We had splayed out, weapons at the ready, scoping out the facility through our viewfinders… and waited. I didn't dare relax. Over the course of what felt like hours (but was probably only half of one) I memorized every notch and grid on the exterior of that building.

"You're gonna shoot one of them by accident if you keep gripping the gun like that."

I turned my head, my eye adjusting uncomfortably as I took it out of the viewfinder, and looked at Fennec. She was sitting up, resting her elbow on her knee, looking at me with an amused eyebrow tilt.

"I just want to make sure I'm ready," I responded. "I can't shake the feeling that I should've gone in, not Din."

My cheeks flushed hot as I realized I'd used his name instead of the casual "Mando" everyone here called him. I swallowed, hoping no one noticed it.

"Why didn't you?" Asked Cara with interest rather than suspicion. "I mean, no disrespect, I'm happy to have you out here, but what would you have triggered?"

"She's wanted by the ISB," chimed in Fennec immediately. "Like me."

I snuck her a grateful look, and the corner of her lip curled up in reassurance.

"Nice," said Cara, impressed. "What did you do?"

I opened my mouth to respond, ready to make up a story on the spot, but Fennec's urgent tone broke me off.

"South wall, half way up!"

I snapped back to attention, looking through my viewfinder to see Din and Mayfeld skirting along a ridge in the wall, having kicked through some large slatted windows. A trooper was hot on Din's tail, and I shot him without even thinking, landing a blast in his neck. I watched him drop down into the thundering base of the waterfall below. No time for guilt, I thought. It's us or them.

"We're on," said Fennec into her comm. "Start your run."

"On my way," crackled Boba Fett's voice through the device.

"Three shooters, top deck!" Fennec barked.

"Got 'em," said Cara.

"I'll cover the swarmers," I said, shooting at the troopers that were spilling out and following Din and Mayfeld.

As the three of us made an orchestral cacophony of blasts, I watched the two men hurry up a ladder and ascend onto the roof of the base. The Slave One zoomed over our heads and hovered down just in time for them to throw themselves off of the other side and land safely in the open cargo hold, making a clean escape.

We lifted our guns and looked at each other with relief. The Slave One flew up and up, carrying them safely away. I opened my mouth to say a congratulations to the other two shooters, but before I could speak, a jet of light shot out of the cargo hold and the entire base went up in flames, a massive tremor shaking the ground beneath us. We gaped as the building disintegrated right before our eyes.

"Wow," I breathed.

"Nice shot," Fennec said, impressed.

"Huh…" mused Cara.

"Was that Mayfeld?" Asked Fennec incredulously.

"Well it wasn't Mando," I said with dry amusement.

"Why, because he wouldn't do it in the first place, or he couldn't make the shot?" Asked Fennec.

"… Yes," I replied. She chuckled.

The two TIE fighters reappeared and zoomed up after the ship, but before we had the chance to even lift our guns, Fett had dropped some kind of sonic bomb, splintering the fighters into tiny pieces.

The three of us exchanged impressed looks.

"Lets get to the meeting place," said Cara, and we scrambled to our feet.

When we arrived in the agreed-upon clearing, the Slave One had already landed and the ramp was open. Fennec clapped me on the back and gave us both a smile before heading in to greet her boss.

Cara and I watched as Din and Mayfeld descended the ramp — I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Din had changed back into his Mandalorian armor and looked like himself again. I fought the urge to run up and hug him — something told me that such a gesture in public would embarrass and fluster him. Not that I'd have the courage to try it in private.

Mayfeld gave us both a broad smile. We didn't return it, but privately I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, he was redeemable.

"Well," he said wearily. "I guess it's back to the scrap heap."

"Thank you for helping," said Din.

"Yeah," nodded Mayfeld, and I thought I picked up something between them, some quiet understanding. He looked from me to Din and back. "Good luck gettin' your kid back."

I felt a half-smile creep across my face, immediately full of gratitude towards him.

"Alright, Officer," he said, turning to Cara Dune and putting his hands together ready for cuffs. "Take me back."

Cara assessed him for a moment.

"That was some nice shooting back there."

"Oh you saw that?" Mayfeld shook his head and shot a glance at Din. "Yeah… that, uh… that wasn't part of the plan. I was just getting some stuff of my chest."

Cara smirked and turned to us.

"You know, it's too bad Mayfeld didn't make it out alive back there."

A smile prickled my lips.

"Yeah," I said. "Too bad."

"What are you talkin' about?" Asked Mayfeld, looking between us eagerly.

"Looked to me like Prisoner Number 34667 died in a refinery explosion on Morak," said Cara.

"Does… does that mean I can go? Cause I will…" Mayfeld held up his hands and began edging away.

"Such a shame," finished Cara, and she headed up the ramp with a smile.

"This isn't a trick, is it?" Mayfeld said furtively to us.

Din jerked his head slightly, indicating for him to go.

"Okay," he said, a wry smile creeping across his face. "Alright. Thanks, Brown Eyes."

He turned and strode into the forest, vanishing.

I froze.

"Brown Eyes"?

I looked over at Din, who was looking at the floor. He lifted his head to meet my gaze, and a moment of understanding passed between us. Somehow, I knew what had happened.

"If you get scanned and your genetic signature shows up on any New Republic register, you're gonna be detected…"

Mayfeld's words echoed in my head. I knew, more than anything, that when it came to protecting the kid, Din would lay down every piece of armor on his body. He would lay down his life, and if it came down to it, his creed.

After a moment of shared processing, Din's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and my heart broke for him. If he had to take his helmet off in there… I didn't know exactly what it meant, but I knew it was big — and I could only imagine how exposed, ripped open, gutted he must have felt. I heard him exhale, and he walked back up to the ship, his steps purposeful but heavy. I stood there a moment longer, reeling.

Brown Eyes.

I was ashamed at the rush of curiosity that filled me. I found myself involuntarily scrabbling together a picture in my head — noses, eyebrows, cheekbones, a thousand possibilities cycling through in a millisecond, and none seeming to fit the person I had come to know blindly.

But somehow brown eyes fit perfectly.