Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s the easiest credits you’ll ever make,” Quel told him, which Mando doubted. Usually when someone insisted it was easy money, it was actually a giant pain in the ass. 

Still, Mando didn’t want to call his potential employer a liar, at least not to his face. “Fine,” he said, glancing across the bar. Parjii sat at a table in a heavy cloak, cradling the sleeping child in her arms. With the deep hood and her head lowered to watch the little one slumber, it was hard to tell what she was. Though how the little one slept through the noise in this place, he’d never know. He turned back to Quel, who’d just sat down and introduced himself. “What’s the job?”

“I work for a woman of great stature and power,” Quel said, spreading his pudgy hands for emphasis. His jowls shook with the excitement of his pitch and his dark eyes glittered with eagerness. “A most beneficial boss, I assure you. She rewards well to those who are willing to work outside the societal norms.” 

Translation: She’s a criminal or a warlord. Or both.

“Recently, one of her most ungrateful employees stole a freighter of Savareen brandy and took it to Herta the Hutt.” Quel paused to cough against the dry, salty air of the planet and Mando frowned behind his helmet. The inclusion of a Hutt was a mark against taking this job -- and increased the odds that Quel worked for a Hutt, as well. But credits were always needed , he thought as he flicked his gaze back to Parjii and The Kid.

“An entire freighter? How’d this employee do it alone?” Mando asked, wishing he could have some water. Savareen was hell on the throat. 

Taking a drink and clearing his throat with a guttural hack, Quel said, “He murdered the crew with poison on their first night in space, boarded his own team, and flew on to Nar Shadda.”

“I don’t hunt the Mid Rim,” Mando said, irritated that he’d wasted this much time on this fool. Across the bar, a large human male had approached Parjii’s table. He towered over everyone else and outweighed the room combined, and Mando prepared himself to charge over there and rescue them.

“Don’t get ahead of the story, bounty hunter,” Quel objected, waving his hand as the man leaned over Parjii. She looked up with concern, but Mando watched that become replaced by a smile as she shifted the child. Quel’s voice interrupted his watch as the heavy human said, “So Tor Vizo gets to Nar Shadda, gets his reward, and now he struts around wearing Herta’s colors. He spends some time working for him there, until he comes back to Savareen.”

“Why would he come back here, to your employer’s territory?” Mando asked, turning his gaze back to Parjii’s table. The man had sat down with her, and appeared to be cooing at the sleeping child. She didn't seem to be alarmed, and Mando relaxed a fraction.

“Her Grace doesn’t know why,” Quel replied, and Mando decided that the older human worked for a Hutt. They tended to insist on those kinds of titles. “She suspects he’s planning a heist against her, but she’ll not be so easily fooled.”

“So if she doesn’t know what’s happening, why does she want me?” Mando asked, hoping this was the end of storytime.

“I saw you, and your armor, and thought, ‘Quel, there is a man who can make Her Grace smile’. See, I don’t know what she may want, but Her Grace will know just how to use a man like you,” the other man said.

“So you want me to meet -- what was your employer’s name again?” he asked.

“Her most excellent Tolta the Hutt, Most Gracious Lady of Savareen,” Quel supplied. “Yes, come see her.” When Mando didn’t reply immediately, Quel leaned his salt and pepper head close and offered, “I’ll personally pay you just to meet with her and see if she had a task for you. If she does hire you, it will be worth your time.”

Mando glanced across the bar. The man with Parjii had pulled out a hologram puck. It sat on the table between them while the stranger flicked through family holos. Unbelievable. “Fine,” he grunted. “I have to secure my ship first. I’ll be back shortly.”

Quel beamed. “I’ll be right here, waiting. Don’t be long!”

Mando rose and headed for the door; when Parjii saw him, she said something to her companion and followed after him. Outside, she tucked The Kid deeper into her cloak, careful to keep his face out of the sun. “Job?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to lock the two of you on the ship.” A flicker of irritation passed her features and disappeared. He frowned at her. “What? It’s not safe for you here without me. We’re in a Hutt’s territory.” He hoped he wouldn’t have to explicitly remind her that Hutts were avid slavers.

“Want help,” Parjii sighed.

“You help enough, keeping The Kid occupied,” Mando assured her, hoping he wouldn’t have to hold her hand through this. To his relief, she nodded and he asked, “Do you need anything?”

“Market,” she said firmly, angling over toward that area. The market was a mishmash of temporarily and permanent structures and appeared to be manned by whoever had something to sell that day. Mando waited impatiently as she looked over the offerings, keeping an eye on their surroundings. They’d avoided the major cities on the planet to set down on the Pnakotic coast, where a criminal element thrived. Illegal refineries had operated here for years, and apparently a Hutt had finally noticed they weren’t making credits from it.

Parjii rejoined him with a wrapped bundle, and they headed toward the ship. “What’d you buy?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Eh, um.” She grimaced in concentration, her usual expression when she sought a word in Basic. With a frustrated sigh,she gave up.  “ Caridon . And a toy for Thakhid.”

“ The Kid,” he corrected. 

“He need name,” she insisted with downcast eyes. In contrast, her tone was firm. He’d been encouraging her to argue with him, to gain confidence and a backbone, and he’d wondered if this was when he’d start to regret that.

“He has one,” Mando retorted. “We just don’t know it.”

Her body language remained subservient, but she couldn’t hide the heated tone to her words. “Why you say no?”

“Why are you insisting?” he snapped as they stopped at the back of the Crest.

She drew in on herself. He heard the shiver in her voice, but she still spoke. "Baby need name.  Gift. Name shape baby. You love baby, why not show?"

“It’s fine,” Mando retorted, toggling the ramp. They waited in terse silence, him irritated and her subdued. “Get onboard,” he ordered and she flinched at his tone, hurrying up the ramp. Just before he closed the ship, he told her, “You don’t know what I’ve done for him. What I’ve lost already. You don’t know my feelings.”

She hugged the child tighter as the ramp hid them from view. He was already calming and starting to regret snapping at her as he went back to the bar, one of the few permanent structures. If you’re going to enable her arguing with you, you need to get better at disagreement , he groused to himself as he walked. 

Quel remained just where Mando had left him, and brightened when he saw the Mandalorian enter the bar. Hauling himself upright, he joined Mando by the door. “I have a speeder ready.”

“How far do we have to go?” Mando asked, not liking the idea of leaving the area.

“Not far, not far.” Quel winked at him, though it did nothing to assure him. Grinning proudly, he said, “Her Highness has a yacht .”

~  *  ~  *  ~

Mando supposed that some would call the hulking mass of metal a yacht, but he thought it closer to a flying fortress. It reminded him of the Jawas’ sand crawler, though this hovered above the dunes. Unlike the crawler, this was ornately painted in reds and oranges, looking almost like a frozen flame ghosting over the sand.

Quel’s speeder pulled alongside, and someone threw down a ladder. Mando didn’t like it, but he went up the ladder and boarded the ship. A well-muscled Zabrak man in a loincloth immediately extended a tray with two glasses on it. Quel took one, while Mando ignored the offering. A young, attractive human woman -- fully dressed, he noted -- bowed before them. “Quel, what have you brought Her today?”

“A potential solution to the Tor problem,” he said proudly -- and loudly. Mando spotted several people across the deck take notice of his words.

“I shall inform Her,” the woman said, bowing again and backing away. Mando watched as the servant disappeared below decks. 

An hour passed under the hot sun and assessing stares of the Hutt's underlings, and Mando silently fumed. No one approached him; they whispered behind their hands and watched him, and he hated every minute of it. This better result in a well-paying job or--

He didn’t have time to finish that thought when the servant reappeared. Thankfully, she motioned to Quel and he took a last gulp of his fourth drink. “Let’s go!”

The stairs belowdecks were draped with richly dyed red cloth with matching carpet, creating a feeling like Mando was walking down a velvet gullet. The massive room at the bottom of the stairs was full of people: guards, servants, droids, and decorated dancers. At the centerpiece of the room, the heart of the chaos, sat a massive Hutt on a raised platform. Three halfnaked men leaned against her, their expressions blissful. Her relatively small hands roved over their bodies freely. From their glazed eyes, the armored warrior suspected they were high on something.

The Hutt smiled and spoke. Quel replied in the same unknown language, which Mando suspected was Huttese. He’d heard that the Worm Kings preferred to talk to others in their native tongue, despite knowing Basic. The two spoke at length, with Quel gesturing to Mando from time to time. The Hutt’s eyes raked over him several times, and once she said something that made everyone laugh; Mando suspected he was the butt of a joke. He bit his tongue and waited out their laughter. 

Finally, Quel turned to him and said, “Her Grace is willing to give you a chance to prove your worth.” 

I wear my worth in my armor, Mando thought but that wasn’t the way you handled a job interview. “Does she have a task in mind?”

“Tor, whom I’ve told you about, has been seen out in the deserts, planning something,” Quel stated. “If you can determine what, she’ll reward you greatly.”

“Let me know his location, and I’ll figure it out,” Mando assured her, comfortable now that they were talking business.

Quel relayed that, and Tolta replied. Quel nodded, an ingratiating smile on his face. “Her Grace says you will be given all information we have.” A droid stepped forward with a data chip, and Mando tucked it away. “Also, she wished me to tell you that you have a beautiful voice. Very commanding.”

Ugh . Mando felt his skin crawl and was never happier to be completely encased in armor. However, when a Hutt paid you a compliment, no matter how skevy it made you feel, there was only one response. “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Back at the ship, Mando settled in the cockpit and plugged in the data chip. The information that scrolled on his screen was scarce and in Huttese. Sighing, he went in search of his… whatever Parjii was. Fortunately, he quickly heard her voice, talking in the mess.

“Can you read Hu-- What are you doing?” he asked, stopping in the doorway to the tiny room that held their cooking supplies. She punched a reddish dough, folded,then punched again in a steady rhythm. 

“ Paxcob ,” she answered, not looking up from where The Kid sat, playing with some balls on a string. “Need roll ou-- Thakhid! No mouth!” The child pulled the toy out with a pop, his eyes on Parjii, waiting for a moment of distraction on her part. Mando approved. 

“Can you read Huttese?” he asked, more than willing to provide distraction. 

“ Ka ,” she said hesitantly, “if need.” Behind her, the toy went back into The Kid's mouth.

“I do.” He waited while she extracted herself from what appeared to be the torture of some kind of dough. She picked up The Kid, whose mouth was again innocently toyless, and followed him to the cockpit. 

After a moment of staring at the text, she handed the child to him. “Need focus,” she said.

Mando took the hint and stepped out of the cockpit. The Kid resumed chewing on the toy; Mando considered removing it but the little one enjoyed it so much. As he once again wondered what he’d gotten himself into, he cradled the little one to him. In his fingers, the tiny form seemed infinitely fragile, and raw protectiveness surged in him. The Kid’s heartbeat fluttered against his palm, a motion his own heart replicated when the child laid his tiny head against Mando’s chest. He held him in silence, barely daring to move, as The Kid’s breathing deepened into sleep. 

“Put bed,” Parjii whispered from the door of the cockpit and Mando jumped as he became aware of her presence. “Then I read you.”

He nodded and carried the child to his small bed. Moving slowly, he settled him on the thick pile of blankets and pulled the top one back over him. He knew he should go and get the information from Parjii, but he still paused for a long moment, his hand resting on The Kid’s chest just to feel it rise and fall evenly. “Good night,” he whispered. 

Parjii had his holo program open, making adjustments to the image as he entered the cockpit. “What are you doing?” he asked, wondering where she’d learned to use the technology. When she’d asked for a holo pad, he’d wondered if she could use it; now she was showing that she did have some skill in image manipulation.

“Little information on what man doing, more on where he seen. Use map, mark it,” she said, glancing back at him. She froze, looked at the open program and paled. “Sorry,” she whispered.

He hated these moments when she clearly reverted back into her behavior from her enslavement. “For what? Doing more than i asked?” he asked, sitting down in the co-pilot’s seat. “Please finish.”

She nodded quickly, but didn’t quite relax as she turned back to her holo. Mando watched her, letting her work. Finally, she turned to him, her fingers dropping from the input board. “So man, Tor , seen at dots. Red dots, uh, watched?” She didn’t sound certain of her word choice.

“Witnessed?” he asked with a frown. 

“Watched by Tolta’s workers,” she answered.

“So those are confirmed sightings,” he clarified, “and the others are rumor?”

“ Ka! ” she said. “He seen talking to, uh, not know Basic, ulwan .” Her frustration came out in her fingers as she flittered them in the air, as if she could grab the missing words. “Move things without law.”

“Thiefs?” he guessed, and she shook her head. “Or do you mean smugglers?”

“I think smugglers ,” she said with careful pronunciation, glancing at him again. 

That did suggest Tor had a plan on Savareen, and Mando leaned toward the holo, studying the pattern of dots. Pointing, he said, “I should start looking for him there.” She started to speak and stopped herself. “Go on,” he said.

“I should ask,” she replied softly. “In that place, I should talk people.”

His immediate reaction was to say no. He curbed it and considered what she was offering. A man reacted differently when someone dressed as a bounty hunter started asking about him than he did when a pretty Twi’lek asked for him. Tor was many things, and human male was one of them. He wouldn’t see Parjii as a threat, and was less likely to bolt from her if he caught wind of her inquiries. In fact, her inquiries might draw him in to them.

“Not alone,” he told her firmly. “I’m going to be nearby.” 

She looked relieved. “When find, what do?”

Mando stood and waved for her to vacate his chair. She hopped up and glided out of his way as he claimed the pilot’s chair and started the engines. “That’s up to my employer. I’m just supposed to find out what he’s up to.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

The short hop to the area of Tor’s operation put them in the middle of the endless desert of the main continent. The settlement was clearly temporary, comprised of parked ships and pop-up tents. Despite having the air of a place set up for one purpose, there was little movement. Part of that was due to the bright sun overhead but Mando still wondered what they were doing out here. 

Per their agreement, it was Parjii who stepped out of the Crest first, dressed in her dancer’s top with a spare set of pants Mando had found for her. They were fine on him, but so snug across her hips that they seemed to have been painted onto her. A blaster that he’d lifted off a bounty and forgotten to return at the end of the hunt rested on her hip. She didn’t look like a threat, exactly, but walking with her head high and hips swaying, she looked like someone gynophiles wanted to meet.

He disembarked and followed after she had most of the local attention, but he didn’t drift too close. It was a risk, as was locking The Kid back on the ship, but not an insane one. It mostly worked; most of the men here were focused on her, and only a few noted him. Mando kept an eye on them, under the assumption they were the smart ones. He found himself also eyeing those showing too much interest in Parjii.

For the next two hours, Parjii wandered around the area, talking to people and collecting commlink connections. She chatted easily with everyone, or at least the ones who knew Huttese or Twileki. Mando could eavesdrop, but it was pointless. 

Finally, she headed back toward the ship; Mando ambled casually after her, only to pick up his speed when the ramp was lowered and he heard The Kid yelling. Parjii had gotten the bunk open and was attempting to comfort the child, but he wasn’t having any of it. 

"Let me try," Mando said, and The Kid quieted some in his arms. From the angry glare on the tiny face, he still wasn't forgiven. "Get him something to eat, " he told Parjii; while she did that, he walked the length of the cargo bay, back and forth, bouncing the child, until Parjii could heat up some broth for him.

With the little one distracted by food, Parjii finally said, “Tor here, sometimes. He seen talking to bug herders.”

“Bug herders?” Mando asked.

“In sand, there is bug.” Parjii held her hands about two feet apart. “Local harvest these, and process, and send off-planet. Rumor say Tor going to steal next harvest.”

Quel hadn’t been entirely wrong; this was some of the easiest credits Mando had ever made -- assuming they were satisfied with this report. Leaving Parjii to finish feeding The Kid, he went to the cockpit and contacted Quel. 

Once he’d reported in, Quel started nodding. “Makes sense. Jaboons fetch a nice price off-world. Her Grace has agreed to transport this harvest, once it’s been desiccated. So how’s he plan to do it?” 

“I didn’t talk to anyone on his crew,” Mando said, knowing what was coming next. “It’s the going rumor, even among the bug farmers here, though.”

“Well,” Quel said, drawing out the word, “Her Highness can’t pay for rumors and hearsay. I’m sure you understand.”

“I’m not done,” Mando said. “I was reporting in.” He cut the connection sharply. It was exactly what he expected but irritating nonetheless.  He thought for a moment, determining his next move, then rose and rejoined Parjii and The Kid.

The latter seemed to have recovered some of his good mood, cooing in response to Parjii’s chatter instead of grumbling. She glanced up as he entered, taking in his expression and asking, “ Ka? ”

“I need more information. I need a plan,” he told her.

“I get more?” she asked him.

“No, I’ll do it,” he said. “Keep The Kid safe.” She nodded and held up the blaster he’d given her. “Keep it,” he ordered. 

“Can’t use,” she said, drawing in her shoulders.

Of course she couldn’t use it. No one taught slaves how to defend themselves. “Wear it, get comfortable with it. Just having it on you may help.” He picked up his disruptor and put it on.

The first man he talked to outside directed him to the supervisor of the operation, a skinny rail of a woman named Ziz. “I’ve heard rumors your shipment’s going to be hijacked,” Mando said without preamble. “What do you know about it?”

“Going to be?” Ziz spat, pushing back her hood to glare up at his visor. With her shorn, dark hair and sun-toasted skin, he was reminded of a piece of driftwood, tough and gnarled. “The Hutt bitch already hijacked it, what’s it matter if it’s stolen again by some other prick?”

“I see.” The Hutt was up to the Syndicate’s usual tricks. “Who was supposed to take it originally?”

“Mattias, but he’s dead since he wouldn’t roll over for her,” she grunted. “And it doesn’t matter, she’s already hired in her own freighter, and made that owner a rich man to soothe his guilt over gutting our cut.”

The unspoken statement there was “and we can’t refuse to work because we still have to eat”. While he wanted to walk away from this, Mando needed to eat, and feed two more, too. “Who’s the new freighter owner?” Mando asked.

Ziz pointed to an elegant speeder sitting at the top of the hill. “Harvest is tomorrow, processing done the week after, then shipment,” she told him, blinking in the omnipresent sun. “He owns the desiccators, too.”

Mando gave into his curiosity a bit. “How are the bugs processed?”

She waved to another ship, a portable factory. “Bugs herded in there, then the blowers and the sun suck all the moisture out of ’em. Then they get ground up and shipped off world for people to snort.”

Mando’s head pulled back in surprise. “What?”

“Right up their nose.” Ziz shrugged. “Apparently, you don’t have to sleep for hours after, and you feel great, I’ve been told. What rich people do with their credits, huh?”

“Not just the rich,” Mando added, his mind summoning a memory of Xian reclining, eyes heavy with chemical ecstasy. “Thank you for the information.”

“Don’t mention it,” she grunted, then shouted to his back. “I mean that! We never spoke!”

The speeder was high-end, Mando saw when he got close, but not luxury. Four guards of mixed species and gender watched in a phalanx around it, their alertness increasing the closer he got. He stopped several feet back and raised his hands to show his peaceful intentions. 

The human man sitting under the canopy of the speeder waved him over after a moment, and Mando continued his progress, keeping his hands away from his weapons. “Hello, come, sit, join me,” he greeted, waving at the seat next to him.

“No thank you,” Mando said. “I won’t take much of your time. Tolta hired me to figure out what Tor is planning and I want to ask you a few questions about your freighter.”

The man sighed wearily. “Gota, do I get paid enough to deal with that Hutt’s endless fretting?”

“No, Master Tund, you don’t,” the female Rodian said.

“You may tell Tolta that I’ve got it covered,” Tund grunted to Mando.

“I already told her that,” Mando said. “She wants details. Assurances. I want to be paid. Tell me what she wants to hear, and I’ll stop bugging you.”

“I see what you did there,” Tund said with a smile. “Very well, fine, you may tell her that my freighter and distillery are guarded by the Black Sun Mercenary from the moment we round up the bugs until the point they are loaded onto the freighter, at which point, the droids take over.”

“You have a droid crew?” Mando asked, distaste clear in his voice.

“Can’t poison or bribe a droid,” Tund pointed out smuggly.

“They can be bribed,” Mando retorted.

“Not if you wipe their memories regularly, and before you protest about hacking ,” Tund said with similar distaste to Mando’s own, “you can inform her that my droids operate on a closed circuit system so no remote cyberjacking. My employee is the only person who can change their programming.”

“So that employee is the weak link in your plan,” Mando said. “What’s to stop them from betraying you?”

The atmosphere shifted from casual to antagonistic immediately. The biggest of the guards dropped a hand to his blaster butt. As Mando tensed, Tund waved his hand impatiently. “Oh, stop it, all of you. Clearly, I’d prefer that this man not insult Algora’s loyalty.” To Mando he said, “I’m afraid that my guard’s loyalty extends to my daughter as well, and they can be hostile about insults to us.”

“I see,” Mando said. Questioning Algora’s reliability wouldn’t get him the result he sought. “I’ll report to Tolta what you’ve said.”

“Good, good, and please tell her that I have this in hand and that she can stop worrying about it,” Tund sighed.

“She’s a Hutt,” Mando replied. “They never stop worrying about money.”

Chapter Text

When he got back to the ship, the smell of something cooking hung in the air. He found Parjii in the cockpit, laboriously translating Quel’s data chip to Basic, one word at a time. The Kid sat in his seat and ran glowing beads back and forth along a string, fascinated by the colors. Idly, he picked him up, cuddling the little guy close, and The Kid held up the beads to him, a delighted look on his tiny face. “Pretty,” he commented, then turned to Parjii. “Why are you doing that?” 

She looked up at him and he was startled to see concern. “My Basic still bad, what if I said bad?” Then he realized it wasn’t concern but actual fear as she added, “And what if bad say get you hurt?”

“Parjii, it’s okay,” he insisted but she kept going.

“I no keep Thakhid safe without you.” Her hands shook until she clenched them into tight fists. “We need yo--”

Her words cut short as he put The Kid in his seat and grabbed both of her hands. He never touched her, and her surprise at the contact allowed him to say, “I’m a bounty hunter. Dealing with unknown complications is part of the job. If I run into something that you didn’t warn me about, I’ll deal with it.”

“If don’t?” she whispered.

“I will. I promise you that I can handle myself,” he vowed. “If there is breath in my body, I’ll come back for The Kid.” The fear didn’t quite fade but she got it under control. “Okay?”

“Okee,” she replied softly, her eyes flicking down to their hands. 

He gave her a reassuring squeeze, then let go. Hopefully, that would be the end of that. He didn’t have time for overly emotional Twi’leks. A memory of Xian yelling intruded, and he admitted that at least Parjii being overly emotional wasn’t that bad.

“So, here’s where we are,” he said, and laid out what he’d learned from Tund. When he finished, he said, “You want to see if you can learn where the daughter is?” 

“ Ka ,” she said. “Now?”

“No, let it rest a bit,” he said, though he wasn’t sure he wanted her to do the talking tonight. “Did anyone mention any kind of nightlife out here?” At her confused look, he clarified, “Where did you get invited to go drinking?”

“Skel’s ship, The Sweet Bet ,” she said, describing where it was parked.

“Get some rest,” he advised. “It’s going to be a late night.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

The more he thought about it, the less he wanted her to go looking for the daughter. The compromise between Parjii going and him going was an open comm link. That allowed her to translate any Huttese and offer advice, but stay safe with the child. While he’d been fine with her wandering around the market with him nearby, he didn’t want her going to a bar alone. I’d probably have to rescue her if she did.

After a nap, Mando ate the spicy meat pastry Parjii had fixed and headed for Skel’s ship. He could have guessed that it had become the bug herders’ temporary bar once he saw it. Dozens of people stood around the open cargo bay, smoking, drinking and talking, and beat-heavy music drifted through the night air. Preparing himself for the assault of sound and bodies, Mando stepped into the bay.

Though not the largest freighter he’d ever seen, The Sweet Bet ’s bay made an impressive bar. Catwalks and platforms had been erected in the interior, leaving most of the floor space for dancing and a bar. Lighting focused on the dance area, leaving the rest of the room dimly lit, and Mando realized this was going to take longer than he thought.

“Cool armor,” a voice at his elbow said, and Mando turned. A large human man with a thick death stick jammed between his lips smiled. “Does that helmet come off?”

“What’s it to you?” The guy seemed friendly enough but Mando didn’t like his smile.

“If you don’t buy a drink, I need to charge a door fee,” the man said. He shrugged and said, “The Bet doesn’t run on love.”

“Right.” Mando flipped the man a credit and started to search the shadows. Once he was away from Skel and deep in the ship, he said, “Are you reading me still, Parjii?”

“ Ka .” 

“Good, there doesn’t appear to be any interference,” Mando replied. “This is bigger than I thought, so this may take a while.”

“Okee.”

Three hours later, Mando had nothing to show for his efforts aside from a grinding headache, smoke-filled lungs, and a brandy-soaked arm from someone getting shoved into his side. Everyone here knew about Tund and his daughter, and insisted she’d be along “later”. The girl partied hard, but only when it was late. It was good to know, but on the not-so-good side, everyone knew who Mando worked for -- as typical, gossip moved faster than hyperspeed. It meant that Tund would probably hear about his questioning and have opinions about it. 

He wouldn’t give up though; he stepped outside for some fresh air, moving around the side of the ship where a couple of groups hung out. One group of four were around a fire; Mando became aware of them staring just before one of them waved him over. With a mental shrug, he joined them.

“Mandalorian, right?” the waver asked as he stepped into the light. 

Mando stiffened, wondering if someone had something to prove. “Yeah.”

“Full suit of real beskar,” the kid said. He looked to be about twenty with unevenly cut straight hair, a thin face, and pale skin. “You must be a badass.”

“I’m a Mandalorian,” he said, turning all praise back to the Creed.

“Damn, Cao,” he said, shoving the brown-skinned guy next to him, “this guy is the real deal .”

“Great,” Cao said, holding out a bottle and pushing curly hair out of his face with the other. “Drink?”

“No thanks.” 

“You should see his Twi’lek,” the woman sitting on Mando’s left said. “She’s pure swoi .”

“What does that mean?” he asked, sure he wouldn't like the answer from her tone.  

“Ally, shut up. It’s, ah, a Hutt term.” Cao looked apologetic.

“Not nice way to call pretty,” Parjii said softly in his ear. The hurt in her voice made Mando mad. 

“So Ally just insulted my partner,” Mando said menacingly. 

“Ally may short for Algora,” Parjii reminded him, even as the girl said, “The odds are pretty good that I’m not wrong.”

Parjii’s warning made him pick his next words carefully. “Do you always pick fights with Mandalorians?” he asked. 

Ally chuckled. “I do when they’re hasselin’ my dad about my droids. Also, she--” She pointed at the woman sitting next to her, a Zabrazian with Cara’s build. “--won’t let you actually do anything to me. Not unless it’s something I want you to do to me.”

“Ask her what she wants you to do to her,” Parjii interjected. “Flirt.”

No chance. Not after the comment about Parjii, though probably not before either. Ally had a really cruel smile that reminded him of Xian. Mando turned to the young woman. “It’s not personal. Tolta--”

“Is a slime-crawling worm,” Ally interrupted as Parjii sighed in his ear. “She swoops in here, kills anyone who gets in her way, and profits off the work of myself and my father.”

“That’s the way of the galaxy,” Mando said easily. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line; when they opened, he expected vitriol.

“Ally,” the unnamed guy interrupted the potential tirade, “relax. I’ve told you, if you make everything personal, you won’t have any business.”

The two stared at one another, having a silent conversation. “Fine,” Ally said with a laugh lacking all humor. “Fine. Yeah, no hard feelings, Mandalorian. Sit and join us. You got a name?”

“People call me Mando,” he said, as Cao shifted over on his crate to make room for him. 

“Okay, then I’m Ally, this is Cao, my guard’s Xupru, you can call her Pru, and this--”

“I’m Luke,” the last man said. 

Alias , Mando guessed as he sat and said, “Just like the Rebellion pilot.”

“Yeah,” Luke grinned, “only I was born later. And I’m not a Rebel pilot.” 

“You’re not as hot as him, either,” Pru said.

“You’ve never seen him,” Cao snorted.

“I’ve seen a recruitment holo, back when I was working on Naboo.” The guard wagged her eyebrows at the group. “He’s not the cutest guy ever but I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed.”

“He wouldn’t fit in your bed,” Cao laughed, absently handing Mando his death stick. Mando opted to pass it on to Ally without comment. “Not enough room with your muscles.”

“My muscles are better sexual partners than some Rebel scum anyway,” Pru snorted. 

“I thought so,” Ally said, blowing out twin plumes of smoke through her nose and passing it on to Pru.

“No,” Cao said, his eyebrows rising. “You and you ? Does your dad know?”

“Not per se,” Ally admitted with a coy smile, “but only because he knows enough to not ask.” She glanced at Mando. “How about you? Had a good kriff lately?” 

“Not that I talk about,” he said patiently. Now that he had his quarry in sight, he was content to let her fool about and get comfortable with him there.

“Someone here’s a gentleman!” Pru laughed, passing the butt to Luke. Mando noted that he likewise passed it on to Cao without indulging. 

“Or an eunuch,” Ally snorted. “If I had that Twi’lek schutta on my ship, I’d kriff her all the time.”

“All class, that’s our Ally,” Cao said quickly, still trying to play the peacemaker. “So Mando, why are you working for a Hutt? Doesn’t it make your skin crawl?”

“Their credits still spend,” he said. 

“Gross,” Ally growled. “Taking slug money.”

“I’ve worked for worse,” Mando said stiffly.

“Worse than a Hutt?” Ally blew a raspberry and pulled a flask from her belt. She took a drink and offered it to him.

Taking the flask and passing it to Cao, he countered, “They exist.”

“Don’t believe it for a second,” Ally said, shaking her head. “Cao, get your lips off my brandy, I gave it to him, not you.”

“Krong you too,” he grumbled, closing the flask and tossing it to her. “And that’s not brandy, so double krong you.”

“It’s mostly brandy,” she smirked. Glancing at Mando, she snapped, “You don’t smoke, you don’t drink, you're dickless -- do you have any fun?”

“Shooting shabholes,” he replied.

The group froze, right until Luke snickered, and slowly the others relaxed. “Well, on behalf of my friends,” he said, “I’m going to ask for forbearance. Pru’s an Imp--”

“Former Imp,” the Zabrak in question barked.

“--Cao’s a former smuggler--”

“Relapsed former smuggler,” the curly-haired man muttered.

“--and Ally wasn’t spanked enough as a kid,” he finished.

“I get regular spankings now,” she purred to Mando. “Do you have an itchy palm perhaps?”

“No,” he said shortly. “All I need to know is whether someone could hack your father’s freighter through your droids.”

“You are a massive pain,” Ally snarled. “Fine, fine, you win.” She pulled out a datapad and held it up. “Here’s the program, the one way you can interface with my droids. Sixteen-bit encryption. Biometric redundancy on the passcode. The program only exists on this pad, and it only leaves my hands to sit in Pru’s hand. So, is that enough for your toad-sucking worm?”

“It’s enough for me,” Mando said, standing. 

“C’mon,” Luke said softly, “don’t go. We just got past the unpleasant druk, let’s party now.”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Mando insisted and turned to find Ally standing right next to him. Her open palm had some powder on it, and she blew it sharply at his helmet. His chin and neck tingled instantly, and the smell of something sweet laced with harsh chemicals filled his senses.

“Ohhhh!” he heard Luke shout as he staggered back from her. His blaster came out of the holster, to find Pru already pointing hers at him. The Zabrak woman glowed a soft aura of pink, growing as he watched. Luke whooped loudly, “Got ‘em in one shot!”

Chapter Text

The urge to shoot Ally filled every corner of his being, and he almost did it when she laughed. “I wish I could see your face right now,” she sneered. “Put the blaster away, tinhead, it’s just some Tryala dust. Time to have a little fun.”

“I don’t like you,” he heard himself weirdly say, just as Parjii said, “I coming. Firith , you hear, I coming!”

“Seriously, again, guys?” Cao sighed.  

“No,” he mumbled to Parjii, then said more loudly, “What was that stuff?” The sand had started a slow, lazy undulation under his feet and he realized he was in trouble.

“Just a little bit of fun, in powder form,” Ally giggled, her body glowing a soft orange. Her hand closed around his blaster and pushed the weapon down. “No need for that,” she whispered. “Pru’d rather make love than war.”

“Maybe,” Pru grunted. “Get that tin can off, and I’ll lock in my answer.”

He pulled back from the group, blinking against the soft auras around everything. His head was already full of cotton, and there was something important he couldn’t remember. Ally closed the distance between them and slipped her fingers under the edge of his helmet. “Let’s see what you’re hiding,” she whispered.

Years of training overcame his fugue, and he wrenched her hands down and staggered away from her. His legs had turned soft, and his joints slid like loose sand. He knelt without memory of how he got there, and Ally pressed herself against his back. “Just a little peek,” she purred, her hands pawing under the edge of his helmet again. He felt her fingers brush the end of his hair.

He clamped his hands around his head and hunched away from her. “Stop!” he demanded.

“Ally! That’s enough!” Cao barked; Ally pulled sharply away from his back with a yelp and Pru darted into motion. He heard the sound of a blaster butt hitting flesh, and he turned to see a glowing Cao kneeling in the sand, holding his face as blood crept through his fingers. 

“You’re such a baby,” Ally snarled at her companion, while Pru wiped her blaster clean. “I should have Pru shoot you. But exile is enough.”

“Cool down, babe,” Luke interjected, moving to stand between Pru and Cao. “You both got your blows in.” 

“No, he touched me!” Ally screamed, pointing at Cao. “He doesn’t get to do that! In, I’ve changed my mind. Pru, shoot that kriffer!”

Mando forced himself to his feet; when he focused on just walking, he could actually do it. He didn’t manage a straight line, but his only thought was to get away from the danger here, clear his head, and come back and murder every one of these shabholes.

“Pru, no, Pru, we need him, remember?” Luke had such a tone of panic in his voice that Mando stopped and looked back at him. He stood in front of Pru, who was pointing a blaster at his chest. 

Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d shoot each other.

“ Firith ,” Parjii called, and it took a moment for him to realize she stood in front of him, her dark lips parted in a fast pant. Blue light surrounded her and her yellow eyes gleamed like fire in an azure ocean.

“That’s right, you need me,” Cao spat, standing up and jerking Mando’s attention back to him. “Now, my fee is double, to pay for my medic bills.”

“Where’s The Kid?” he said to Parjii as she moved to his side and pulled his arm over her shoulder. The weight of her lekku pressed gently against him, as if inviting him to keep his arm in place

“On Crest. Lean,” she instructed, then grunted as he put his weight against her. The first step he took nearly knocked them both down; then, they got the rhythm and managed a steady stagger.

“Wow, look, it’s his schutta to the rescue,” Ally laughed behind them. She yelled something in another language, but neither of them responded. 

Mando stopped when Ally darted back in front of him, reaching for his helmet. Parjii swatted the woman’s hands away and spat something at her. “I’m going to kill you for that,” Ally snapped. “No Twi’lek swoi --”

“You go kriff guard again!” Parjii growled. “Mando no have you!”

“I told her that,” he said, but the two women ignored him. 

Pru stepped up and Mando reached for his blaster, but his holster was empty. He remembered it being in his hand, and he looked down to see it was empty, too. Instead of shooting them, the bodyguard caught Ally by the wrist and pulled her away. Luke joined them, and they argued in low, insistent tones. 

Cao walked up with a hand still pressed to his jaw. With his other hand, he handed over Mando’s blaster. “Here. Go before-” He winced in pain and waved them away.

Mando tried to put his weapon away, and after six tries Parjii took the blaster from him and tucked it in his holster. Then they took Cao’s advice and shambled away before Ally shook off her handlers. 

Mando tried to focus on walking, but he was distracted by the lithe body against his own. She wore her old dancer’s top and those pants, and he wanted to strip both of them off of her. His own padding and clothing shifted against his skin, leaving him overwhelmed with the sensations of touch. He couldn’t ignore the slide of his pants on his legs, and the rub of a seam felt like a fingernail raking over his side. He gasped for air in a struggle to not pull off his clothing. Her lekku pressing on his arm reminded him of the boosts Xian used to make of her head-tails, and his imagination ran with ribald thoughts of their use. When he realized Parjii was also short on breath, he couldn’t stop watching the vee of her cleavage rise and fall.

Parjii opened the ramp on the Crest as soon as they arrived; Mando half-expected to see a furious child waiting for them but all was quiet. “Where’s The Kid?” he asked as he lurched up the slope and into the harbor of his ship. 

“Sleep. I hope,” Parjii gasped as she pushed him against a wall and closed up the ship. With a thump and the clunk of the bolts sliding home, they were safe, and both of them stood gathering their breath.

Mando wanted to sit down but had a feeling he wouldn’t get back up tonight. “She’s a piece of work,” he said softly. Parjii, still panting, glanced at him. “I mean, wow. Just wow. You’re not, uh, whatever she called you. And you’re definitely not my sch--, schu--”

“Please no say,” she implored.

“What’s it mean?” he asked.

“It mean what everyone think Twi’lek women are for,” she said, her voice angry.

He reached out and caught her hand; the pressure of her skin against his glove sent tingles down his spine. Alarm crossed her features but faded as he spoke. “Hey, you are not for that,” he said firmly, words pouring out of him. “You’re so much more. You cook and you clean, even when I don’t want you to, and you take care of The Kid so well, and you love him, so easily, and he needs that. I can’t do it, even when I try. And me, having a hot meal that I don’t have to make, and knowing someone’s here if I’m lonely, and, and--” He stopped, his jaw dropping, “Oh, shab ! Parjii, I think you may be my wife!”

She smiled gently. “That Tryala dust talk. You need shower.”

“You’re coming with me in it, right?” The words were out before he’d thought them; all filters were gone. “What is wrong with me?” he asked. “Why can’t I stop talking?”

“Tryala dust.” She repeated more fimly, pulling her hand free. “Not shower with you.”

“Why?” He needed a cold shower, definitely, but he wanted a warmer one with her. His eyes rose to her forehead and he felt the desire to kiss her rising. 

“Because you not shower with me without dust.” She pushed off the wall. “I go cargo bay, let you sleep off.”

It was probably the right idea. “Okay, wait, please,” he sighed. “I know after the shower comment, this gonna sound bad, but…” He held up his hand. “I may have seven fingers right now, and none of them know how to unbuckle armor.”

“I see,” she said softly. “Face wall.” Mando didn’t know if he was imagining the sultry warmth in her tone, but it was real enough to him for him to hurry into position. “Hands on wall, over head. Spread legs and lean into it,” she ordered, and his imagination shot into overdrive as he complied. “Now,” she whispered, “stay.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied immediately, without thought. When she knelt and he felt the tug of his buckles opening, he had to focus on his breathing to maintain control. When she reached his belt buckle, they both heard the sharp inhale he gave.

“Once upon a time,” she said as his belt loosened, “there was moonbeam, that wanted to be star.”

“Are you telling me a children’s story?” he asked, incredulously. 

“Shh, interrupting,” she admonished him, then continued as she rose beside him. Her hands reached for his right arm. “This moonbeam name Nerra, and he want shine with stars. So The Mother tell him, ‘You glow so pretty. Why not happy?’

“ ‘Look!’ Nerra say,” His vambrace loosened. Mando leaned into the wall and tried to focus on the story. “He point to stars, eyes caught by beauty. ‘They shine so bright. I see all time, and I must be beauty, too!’ “ 

His pauldron hung freely with a tug, and she walked behind him to his left. “The Mother know Nerra blind to own self, so tell him that he cannot be star alone. He need other moonbeams who want be star, too.” His left vambrance was free. 

“So Nerra spoke to other moonbeams, looking for other who unhappy with self,” she continued as she tugged his left pauldron loose. “Most confused. ‘Why be star, so far away in cold night?’ But there always ones who blind to self. He find two, and they go together to The Mother. ‘We want be stars,’ they tell her.”

Parjii ducked under his arm and stood in front of him. She reached up and unlatched his bandoleer as she said, “Though sad they couldn’t see worth, The Mother gave them as ask, and put them in sky together. Today, they are Nerra stars, the three brothers. And that is where the word nerra come from.”

“Brother,” he breathed as they stood so close. “Am I your nerra ?”

“No, you my Firith ,” she said, folding the bandoleer into fourths.

He swallowed. “What’s that?” 

“Defender.” Her golden eyes met his visor, almost as if their gazes were locking. “Defender of baby, and of me.”

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured, pressing his palms into the wall until the leather gloves protested. 

“You may, if you want in morning,” she replied, her voice taut with restraint. She hung the bandoleer over his shoulder and said, “Now, you shower. Good night, Firith .”

“Good night.” He held his position on the wall until she was gone. 

Somehow, he got his armor and padding off and got into the shower. The cold water pulled a yelp out of Din’s throat but he clenched his teeth against further cries. This was what he needed, and he scrubbed his exposed skin in a stream of sanity-restoring cold. He tolerated it as long as he could, not that it took care of the most pressing issue. It did allow him to think , and that was what he needed, more than a physical release.

Teeth chattering, Din exited the shower and dressed in his undergarments and helmet. The material covered him ankle to wrist to neck, but it was so thin it provided no warmth. He dragged himself to his bunk, locked himself inside the tiny space, and huddled under blankets until he fell asleep.

He awoke to knocking on the door. “What?” he groaned, clenching his eyes shut against the bright yellow alarm-light. 

“Mando? You okay?” Parjii asked. “It morning.”

Fumbling in the bunk, he found his chrono; he never slept this late. “Give me a few minutes,” he called and sat up. The headache that blossomed from that movement caused him to lay back down, but it was too late. It felt like someone was grinding his brain between two rocks. Sharp rocks. Sharp, molten rocks.

He pulled himself together and dressed, then reconsidered. He pulled out the breather mask for his helmet and put it on, then resettled the helmet. The sense of being suffocated settled in immediately, but he refused to give her another chance to drug him. 

He left the alcove: he needed to find pain meds, and they were all outside his bunk. Parjii stood just outside, holding The Kid. The little one reached for him with a soft, delighted cry, and Mando took him gladly. “Headache meds, please,” he said to the Twi’lek.

She pulled a hypo out of her pocket. He allowed her to administer it, feeling the relief starting almost instantly. The Kid watched with wide eyes, occasionally patting the arm holding him. 

“Thank you,” he told her sincerely. “Not just for the meds. My memories of last night are hazy, but I don’t think I said thank you.”

Her blue cheeks darkened. “Welcome,” she said, smiling a little. The expression seemed expectant, and Mando realized he must have really screwed something up.

“And I’m sorry if I scared you,” he continued. He’d planned to say more, but her smile turned rueful. 

“Not scared. You Firith , right?”

“What’s that mean?” he asked, searching his memory for the reference. 

Her shoulders drooped in disappointment. “Defender,” she said. “It Twi’lek name. Suits you.”

“Thanks.” He was missing something but part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he’d forgotten. His headache was a memory and his mind turned to business. “Now, I need to find Cao.” Handing the child back to her with a quick rub on his green head, he asked, “Are you okay to stay here, locked aboard?”

She shook her head. “If drug you again, you need help.”

“I’m wearing extra protection against that today. Besides, I need you here, with The Kid,” he asked her. As her gaze dropped to the little being, he gentled his voice and added, “I need you ready to come help me.”

She turned and walked away from him and Mando frowned. He followed after her to find her at the medkit, loading two hypos. “What are you doing?”

“If you drugged, use this,” she told him. “Stim-u-late.”

“Stimulant?” he asked. 

“Bad crash, but give time to get away,” she told him. 

He stared at them and then back at her. “How do you know that?” 

“Seen Tryala dust use. Seen this use as short--” She hissed in frustration. “Help head short time.”

“It clears the head?” He studied her a moment. “What other medical care do you know?” 

“Little. Seen drug user with-- they over do it, told how to help until medics arrive,” she said. “Some wound care. Sick care. Not much. Do know muscle work.”

“If I ever need medical care, and you’re there and I’m unconscious, I need you to know something,” he told her sternly. “Don’t take my helmet off. I don’t care if leaving it on would kill me. Don’t remove it.”

“Okee,” she agreed, “but why?”

“It is the way,” he told her. “It’s part of my creed as a Mandalorian, and if I take it off, I can’t put it back on again. It’s important, Parjii. I would rather die than have my helmet removed. Do you understand?”

“ Ka, ” she said, eyes somber.

“Good. I still have my comlink. I’m going to find Cao.”

Chapter Text

The entire camp was mostly deserted, except for a line of people at the top of the swell where he’d spoken with Tund. Climbing up, he found them holding a fence and using sticks to push sand-colored beetles as long as his arm back down into the sand sea below. Massive machines with mechanized scoops were digging into the sand and exposing beetles, then moving them along a track to dump them into a hopper. The fence enclosed a massive area, all funneling the doomed bugs into a ship sitting at the far end of the valley formed by dunes. 

“Harvest’s started.” 

Mando blinked down at Ziz, who was standing next to him. She peered at him and asked, “You figure out what’s going on yet?” 

“Almost,” he said. “Where’s Tund and his daughter?”

“They’ll be in the refinery ship from now until the freighter leaves,” Ziz said. “They won’t have time for you now.”

“Good. Thank you for the information,” Mando said and headed toward the medical ship. Squat and fat, the white hull almost blinded in the sun but it made the ship unmistakable. Inside, a medical droid pointed him to the right bed.

“Oh, not you,” Cao moaned. “I got a broken jaw ‘cause of you.”

“I recall Xupru hitting you in the face,” Mando said, though he wasn’t sure of the memory. “What do they need you for?” Cao stared at him. Mando pulled out half his remaining credits and dropped them on the bed. 

The credits disappeared, and Cao said, “I’m an expert at disrupting tracking systems so that a ship can’t be followed.”

“When it goes off course to Nar Shadda,” Mando guessed. 

Cao snorted. “Not even close, man. Tor’s striking out to make his own crime syndicate, and he’ll have a hold full of ground Jaboon to finance it.”

“You going to leave now that you’re talking to me?” Mando asked.

“Yeah, already booked the flight,” he said. “No amount of money is worth working with that psycho.” 

“Pru?” Mando asked. 

“No man.” Cao stared at him. “Tor. He’s insane. And Algora is wrapped around his finger.”

Mando swore to himself. “Good luck,” he told Cao, and hurried back to the Crest . Parjii looked at him as he came aboard, and he waved off her silent question. “Just a moment,” he said. “I need to call Quel, now.” 

Before opening the connection, Mando checked the datafile from Quel. He couldn’t read it, but he wasn’t looking at the text. Near the bottom of the file was a picture of Tor. It was grainy and shot at night, so there was little color. He’d studied it before but hadn’t known what to look for. The subject had longish hair and a scruffy beard, but nothing could hide “Luke’s” smirk.

After being on hold for fifteen minutes, the porty human came on the holo. “Good morning, Mando!” Quel greeted expansively. “Have you infiltrated Tor’s crew? Determined his scheme?”

“There’s only one way he can pull off this heist,” Mando said. “He’s bought Algora Tund’s loyalty.”

“From her own father?” Quel sounded dubious.

“She hates Hutts,” Mando said. “So does her crew. The bodyguard that her father hired is far more loyal to her than him. And she controls his droids completely.”

“So you know Tor has bought her loyalty?” he asked.

“They’re together,” Mando said. “Romantically, I believe. But they just lost the guy who was going to cover their ship’s trail. So they’re going to be easy to trace.”

“Her Grace won’t want that. Instead, she wants Algora brought to her before Tund leaves Savareen,” Quel said. “Do this, and you’ll be greatly rewarded. She’ll double your agreed amount for spying.”

Yesterday, Mando might have tried to demure or drive the price up further. Collecting this bounty would be kicking a hornet’s nest. Today, though, he heard himself state with satisfaction, “I can do that. I’ll bring her to you.” He sat back and breathed, “ Shab.”

“What wrong?” Parjii asked from the doorway. She had a covered plate in her hands. 

“Tor is Luke. Tolta wants me to bring Algora to her, and I’ve agreed. I need to come up with a plan,” he said, moving to leave.

Instead of jumping out of his way, Parjii stood in the doorway. “Mando, you eat.”

“I don’t have time,” he said. “Algora and her father are focused on the harvest, not me.”

“Eat,” Parjii said, her golden eyes flicking up to his visor. “Please. You need.”

Mando considered her for a second. She didn’t back down and warmth filled his chest at the thought that she cared about him. “I guess if I don’t eat, I can’t protect you and The Kid, huh?” he said as he took the plate from her.

“ Ka ,” she said, and quickly left the room.

Mando tried not to feel disappointment as he ate the spicy steamed vegetables and meat. What had he been expecting from her there? Despite his dark thoughts, the food helped, settling his mind and allowing him to focus on a plan. 

When he left the cockpit, he found Parjii waiting just outside. Silently, she took the plate from him. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For eating.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, noting the distance between them again, and wondering what he’d said last night. He debated apologizing again but he didn’t even know for what, so he didn’t.

Someone knocked on the hull of the ship. “Get in the cargo bay,” he ordered Parjii, and she gathered up The Kid without question and left. When they were safely away, he opened the cargo bay ramp.

One of Tund’s guards stood outside. “I’ve been sent to ask you to dinner, sir,” the man said. “My employer is aware that you and his daughter had an unpleasant encounter, and he wishes to meet with you.” 

“What if I don’t want dinner?” Mando asked.

“Then I’ve been instructed to tell you that you’ll come to no harm, that Master Tund has an offer and an apology gift for you,” the guard reported. “Dinner is ready at six local, and your crew is invited. The no-harm extends to them, as well.”

This was what they called an exploitable situation. “Tell him I’ll be there,” Mando said and shut the ramp. The sound drew Parjii back from the cargo bay, and he told her about the development. “It’s a chance to talk to Tund about the situation. If Ally’s there, I may be able to collect her bounty.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

At the agreed time, Gota showed up at the Crest , her weaponry reduced to a small blaster on her hip. The greenish-gray Rodian bowed her head to Mando in respect and said, “Please follow me.” He nodded to Parjii, and she locked the Crest behind him. There was no speeder waiting, and Gota started walking.

Interesting . Tund’s private yacht was parked by his factory ship, and the walk allowed everyone at the camp to see Gota escorting Mando there. Just as he had no doubt that everyone had heard about the attack the night before, now everyone would see that Mando and Tund were talking. 

This yacht was chrome and blue, with sleek lines that made the observer think of speed. Mando boarded behind Gota, senses on high alert for betrayal. She led the way down the central corridor to a set of stairs up to the deck. Under a dark blue canopy woven with silver and gold stars, a small table waited. Three men in sharp, discreet uniforms stood with their backs to the railing, hands folded demurely in front of them.

Mando paused to scan the area and the upper deck enclosures further along the deck. Tund sat at the dark table alone with a single guard standing just behind his chair on the right. Gota moved to stand behind Tund’s left shoulder, which left the single setting opposite the host as Mando’s seat. A quick scan of it with his helmet revealed no hidden needles or restraints. 

“Thank you for coming,” Tund said with a smile. “I’d hoped you’d be willing to speak with me.”

“My willingness to continue depends on the topic,” Mando said, taking the expected seat. The servants moved, one going to Mando’s left side and setting down a cup; he ignored it even as another servant left one for Tund.

Tund took a drink and smiled. “I pledged your safety; you may drink.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Mando replied. “What did you want to say?”

“Am I to assume you’re also not hungry?” Tund asked.

“I’m not hungry,” the warrior confirmed. Before he’d left the Crest , Parjii had fixed him shredded fowl on a thin bread that had more than sated any appetite he might have.

Tund waved his hand. The servant took Mando’s cup and setting as another put a decanter of red liquid on the table. Then all three of them disappeared. “So I understand that last night, my daughter misunderstood your desire to share a recreational activity with her, and I wanted to be sure there were no hard feelings.”

“There are plenty of hard feelings, because she drugged me and attacked me,” Mando said. “Had my crew not intervened, Algora would be dead now.” He didn’t add it was because Mando, as Din, would have murdered her the second he sobered up. “And she didn’t do it because she wanted money or my ship. She did it because she thought it would be fun.”

Tund shook his head, smiling a little. “She’s a handful, I admit. It’s my fault, she’s my only child and I was far too lenient on her.” He held up a hand and said, “You seem to be a direct man, so I’ll be direct. Name the sum of credits it would take to remove all hard feelings.”

“Your credits can’t protect your daughter anymore.” Mando put a data chip on the table. He’d made use of his afternoon to prepare. “Tolta knows that she’s working with Tor Vizo and has instructed me to bring her in, alive. Even if you shoot me now, and get lucky enough to take me down, she’ll have bounty hunters chasing her to the end of the galaxy. 

“You now need to decide the best way to really help her,” Mando continued, standing up. “I’m taking her tonight, and I’ll head to Tolta after. You know how Hutts are -- they enjoy revenge but they love credits more.  Once I leave, you have a chance to get to Tolta first and grovel and pay enough to save your daughter’s life. I’d remind Tolta that you have a week to strip your freighter of droids and hire a real crew to take the ship off-world, that you can fix your mistake in relying on Algora. I know the people here need the work, so you shouldn't have trouble finding help. 

“And if you cooperate with me right now, I’ll make sure that Tolta knows it.” Mando dropped his hand to his blaster. “So, are your guards and I going to see who has the fastest draw, or are you going to be smart about this? If you need a few minutes to review the data I just gave you, go ahead.”

Tund stared at him, then plucked the chip off the table. It disappeared underneath, and a green glow from an unseen reader washed over the rich man’s face. The longer he read, the tighter his lips drew together. Finally, he lifted his head. “You’re telling me that my daughter will betray me.”

“I’m telling you that she’s set a plan into motion that will steal the harvest,” Mando said. “It’s not something she just decided in the last couple of days. This took planning. Getting Cao Dara involved to hide your freighter’s altered path, her programming of the droids -- all of this takes time and planning.” Something flickered over Tund’s face and Mando asked. “Were the droids her idea?”

“Gota,” Tund said, and the Rodian straightened, her hand on her blaster. “Take him to Algora’s room. I assume you’re professional enough that my daughter will survive, Mandalorian?”

“I have my instructions,” he said. 

“Then, Gota, unlock the door for him, but provide no other support,” Tund said, fury painting his cheeks dark and raising his voice. “I never want to see you again, bounty hunter.”

Mando inclined his head in understanding and looked to Gota. The Rodian led him back down the stairs, but instead of going outside, she pressed a panel in the hallway. A hidden door opened and the two made their way down the corridor on the other side. Mando counted three doors; Gota stopped at one and held a stick over the black dot next to the door. Nodding at it, she said, “Pru will be with her.”

“Thank you,” Mando said.

“Good hunting.” With that, the Rodian retreated up the corridor, stopping just inside the door.

Mando palmed his gas grenade and opened the door. He had a brief glimpse of two female forms, one sitting in a chair and the other sprawled on the bed, before he tossed in the grenade and stepped aside. With the short fuse, he heard an immediate pop followed by the hiss of escaping gas.

Ally screamed something which Mando couldn’t quite hear, but he clearly heard Pru shout, “I’ll get the kriffer!”

Textbook, but the simplicity of his plan working the way he wanted didn’t negate Mando’s pleasure as he pressed himself against the wall. Pru’s blaster came out first, and she looked the wrong way, toward the exit, when her head came out. He shot her before she realized her mistake. Pru went down without a fight, and he put two more bolts in her because he didn’t like her. 

Algora screamed again, wordless and enraged, and flew out of the doorway, her hands curved into claws. She screamed curses and epithets as she jumped at him. He attempted to grab her but she was berserk, howling like a demon. Tears coursed down her face as she slapped at him, literally open-handed smacks that had to have hurt against his armor. She didn’t stop until he managed to get her by a wrist and snap on a restraint. Then he used his grip on her to twist her arm behind her and shove her into a wall. When she threw out her free hand to catch herself, he caught it and snapped it into the other restraint. It didn’t end the screaming, but she couldn’t do much else.

He pushed her up the hallway, and she started to shout, “Father! Father!” At the sight of Gota watching, she snapped, “You better help me or Father is going to fire your green ass!”

“Your father knows I’m taking you in,” Mando said, unable to stop the smug satisfaction in his voice. “Get going.” 

She fought the entire way back to the Crest , screaming and hollering. Everyone in the work camp came out to stare at the sight of Tund’s screaming daughter being dragged across the sand in cuffs by a Mandalorian. When he got to the ship, Parjii already had the ramp open and watched them approach. The little one, in her arms, watched with wide eyes.

“Have a gag?” Mando asked her as he dragged Algora up the ramp.

“Car bon right?” Parjii asked hopefully.

“Wha- Oh, Carbonite. No, it’s a short jump. No need to expend the resources to freeze her.” Across the camp, Tund’s yacht lifted off the sand into the darkening sky. The three adults watched it, Algora’s jaw dropping with shock. Mando said, “But I think a gag is necessary.”

“Noooooo!” Algora shrieked and dropped to her knees, weeping. “Daddy, no! Don’t leave me!”

Rolling his eyes, Mando waved for Parjii to help him. Together, they got her inside and chained to a strut, and finally, thankfully, silenced with a spare rag. Then he plotted a course back to Tolta’s ship.

He was ready to be done with this job.

~  *  ~  * ~

The kick to his helmet threw Mando off-balance, and he growled under his breath as he caught himself and looked up again. Algora hung in the air, held up by a harness attached to a pulley system. As Quel asked, “You okay?” the young human was lifted higher as a trio of servants hoisted her aboard the yacht.

“Fine,” he said. “Sometimes bounties get in a last shot. I normally freeze them.”

“Heh. We probably should have given the sedative a few more minutes to take full effect.” Quel watched until she was on deck, then he turned to Mando and said, “I knew you’d come through for my Lady.”

“Good for you,” Mando replied, brushing past him and climbing the ladder.

Tolta didn’t keep him and Quel waiting this time. The servant came back almost immediately to guide them down to the Hutt’s throne room. It still held a crowd, but the dancers were standing silently by the wall, and the only music was a soft, thrumming hum that suggested disaster. The drugged half-naked men still leaned against the Hutt, but today, she wasn’t touching them. They weren’t the source of her attention anymore. Tund stood before the Hutt, his face red and set in hard lines as he looked at every spot in the room but Mando. 

Algora stumbled and would have fallen if Mando and Quel hadn’t been supporting her by the arms. Tolta started speaking, and her servant said, “The most powerful Lady Tolta is pleased by your efforts to save her crop. Her reward for you is as was agreed upon, plus a further gift.” She waved and two servants brought out a heavy winter coat.The long tunic in a soft cream color hung to his shins, and had a white fur lining.

“Thank you,” he said. He could sell it, or maybe Parjii could use it. Either way, a bonus was welcome, and he didn’t deny feeling a touch of pride. He could feel its weight as he settled it over his shoulder. A third servant slipped a bag of credits into one of the coat’s pockets.

“Additionally, her Grace wishes to offer you a permanent position hunting bounties for her,” the translator continued. “This gift is only the first of many, and only the tip of the wealth you’ll accumulate as her hunter.”

Typical Hutts. “I regret that I cannot stay here. I have pressing business in another part of the galaxy,” he said politely. It never hurt to leave a door open; he’d need steady work after finding somewhere safe for The Kid because Greef Karga sure wasn’t going to be giving him any.

“Her Greatness is sad to hear of your decision.” Tolta’s smile widened as the translator added, “Should you find yourself in need of shelter from powerful forces, you should consider her offer.”

Mando doubted that offer would remain once Tolta found out that he was hunted by Imperial-backed powers. “I will keep it in mind,” he said. “With that, I need to get on my way.”

Tolta waved him out and Mando left before someone changed their mind or said something that started a fight. 

Quel didn’t take him back to the Crest ; a random underling returned him on the speeder. He’d set down by the water, and as he threw the coat over his shoulder and walked toward the ship, he could see Parjii and The Kid playing in the ocean. She’d found little shorts for him, and she wore her dress tied above her knees. 

He stopped to watch them. Both were his responsibility, one chosen and one unexpected, but both were his to protect and provide for. He hadn’t had that responsibility since he’d left the covert and struck out on his own. The weight of it was heavy, but also a comfort.

A wave rolled in and bowled over The Kid, and he came up screaming. Parjii picked him up and cuddled him close, dropping kisses on his head. The comfort quickly calmed him, and that was when they saw him. 

The Kid squealed with delight and pointed, and Parjii laughed, saying something to him. She set him down out of the reach of the waves and he started to run toward Mando with his short little legs. Grinning, he dropped the coat and walked forward. Just before they met, Mando knelt in the sand and the small green body fell into his arms. 

“He glad you home,” Parjii said with a warm grin, having followed the child. 

Home. “I’m glad to be home,” he said. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” 

In the warm sun, his small charge in his arms, they gathered up the coat and left for their next adventure.