The Mandalorian's Slave

Separated

It feels like we're worlds apart as Kuiil and I turn away from the Mandalorian and mount the blurrg. I wish I was at his side, not running away. But keeping the Child safe is our first priority, whether I like it or not.

As we ride, I wonder how the plan is going. It sounded simple enough, but a lot can go wrong in a short amount of time.

The Child squirms in my arms, not happy to be separated from the Mandalorian. He coos softly, disturbed by the bumpy ride on the blurrg. I don't blame him.

All is going well. The blurrg dashes forward, leaping over lava-encrusted land. Kuiil and I are making good time. We should be back to the ship soon.

"Aster, are you back to the ship yet?" The suddenness of hearing my Master's voice crackle over the intercom startles me. "Aster, do you copy?"

"Yes, we're almost at the ship." I reply quickly, praying that the Mandalorian is about to deliver good news.

"Get back to the ship and bail. Get the kid out of here and stay safe. We're pinned down!"

I want to argue, but there's no time. The blurrg snorts as Kuiil urges it faster. I hold the Child tighter. I can't just leave the Mandalorian, can I?

I hear a motor in the distance. I glance over my shoulder to see two speeders racing toward us. I reach toward my blaster and fire at them, but the blurrg jostles me too much. I miss. Kuiil makes us go even faster, but my heart sinks. We're not going to make it.

One of the speeders fires. I duck as it hits Kuiil in the back. He slumps over, instantly dead. They fire again, hitting me. I scream as I let go of the Child and tumble to the ground. My head hits the hardened lava. Through blurry eyes, I can see the two troopers snatch up the Child.

"Aster? Aster, do you copy?" I can vaguely hear the Mandalorian speaking over the intercom, but I barely register it. My head swims and the stench of sulfur fills my lungs. I've failed.
                                     
I force myself to lie still. It's difficult with a shoulder in searing pain and a throbbing head. But I know I'm not useful to anyone dead.

The roaring of the engines has faded by the time I open my eyes again. My head screams and my shoulder aches. But I force myself to get up. The Child needs me. And judging by the tone of the Mandalorian's voice, he needs me too.

I need to come up with a plan. I'm just one person, with mysterious powers that are unreliable to say the least. I need backup. As I glance at the entrance of the ship, a crooked smile lights up my face. I've found backup.

                                         XXX  
The speeders didn't go far. Locating them is easy enough. They appear to be examining the Child as the droid and I approach.

Listen, I know the Mandalorian will be mad that I turned to a droid for help. But I was desperate. Kuiil was dead and the Child was gone. And if the Mandalorian is correct, IG-11 is a killing machine. Which is exactly what I need right now.

"Stop that," the droid commands in its emotionless voice as we engage the two officers.

"Identify yourself!" They reach toward their blasters.

"I am IG-11. I am this child's nurse droid and require that you remand him to me immediately."

"A nurse droid?" One of the troopers laughs. "I thought it was a hunter. Aren't IG's usually hunters?"

"Yeah, well, evidently this one's a nurse," his coworker replies. "I'm sorry, nurse, but you're gonna have to get out of here."

As IG-11 takes another step closer, one the troopers fires a warning shot at its feet. A futile attempt really.

"Are you refusing my request?"

"No." The trooper steps closer, leveling his blaster at the droid's chest. "I'm telling you to get out of here."

Impossibly fast, the droid reaches out and grabs the troopers arm. With a sickening snap, it twists it. It flips the trooper over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. The second trooper attempts to fire at the droid, but it's useless. His neck is snapped quickly, leaving nothing but a sound ringing in my head.

I rush to the Child's side. He seems scared, but not hurt.

"That was unpleasant," IG-11 drones. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

The Child coos softly as we climb aboard the stolen speeders. Part of me knows that we should get to the ship and run. But a life without the Mandalorian simply isn't a life worth living to me.