The Mandalorian's Slave

Corvus

Corvus is a small, swirling gray planet with veins of glowing orange. Even while in space, I can practically feel the mystery lurking in the shadows there.

I'm terrified, yet eager, too.

"Corvus," Din says, breaking the silence, "this is the place. I've detected a beacon. I'm gonna start the landing cycle."

"Let's hope it's smoother than last time," I say with a nervous smile.

"Who would have thought giant spiders would destroy a ship?" He grumbles.

Talking feels good. It's better than the tense atmosphere broken by nothing except the thundering of my heart.

The Child shifts on my lap. "Look," I hiss to the Mandalorian. The Child's hand is outstretched, his eyes closed as if he were praying. There's a soft metal scraping as the ball that rests atop the shifter becomes unscrewed. With a pop, the ball flies loose and plops into the Child's clawed hand.

"Let's hope this Ahsoka Tano knows more than that," Din remarks as he guides us into a landing.

We dip beneath the atmosphere, the thick mist of the planet giving us a moist welcome. The low visibility makes me uneasy as we reach the planet's surface. We skim over forests of sickly, skeletal trees, their branches devoid of any leaves. The forests quickly merge into cities of short buildings with flat roofs and flickering lights. We skirt pass the city, deciding to land anonymously in the uncharted woods.

The Mandalorian takes the Child as we leave the ship. Humid air greets us with a damp kiss as the doors slide open. The forest is pretty in a cursed way. The earth is soft beneath my feet and smells like freshly-fallen rain. The trees snake toward the sun, shrouded in thick fog. Creatures cry out in the distance, claiming this land as their own.

"Not much to see out here," Din mutters. "Never had dealings with a Jedi before."

"There's a first time for everything." I draw in a nervous breath. "Let's head into town. See if we can pick up a lead."

We walk for about half an hour. I force myself to memorize everything: the way the ground squishes beneath my feet, the way Din's armor fits him, the way he smells. Just in case it's my last time. Just in case this Jedi isn't what we think she is.

The town is protected by a thick, stately wall. Three armed men stand on top of the gate, wearing armor the same shade of brown as the wall.

"State your business," one of the men calls down to us. He's the only one not wearing a helmet, so he must be in charge. He's got an angular, pointed face and sharp eyes. I resist the urge to squirm underneath his gaze.

"Been tracking for a few days," the Mandalorian begins lazily, "looking for a layover."

"Nice armor. You a hunter, then?"

"That's right."

"Guild?"

"Last I checked," Din says. Not technically a lie; he did get kicked out the Guild, but supposedly Greef Karga let him back in.

"Open the gate!"

Fortified iron doors squeal open as the guard continues to stare down at us. We walk briskly inside, not wanting to remain in his sight any longer.

The streets of the city are wide and paved with thick stone slabs. A generous layer of mud and grime covers most of them, but that's not what strikes me as off-putting. The lack of sound does. The villagers dart around, wearing drab clothes in a variety of gray and brown colors. They keep their eyes down, their hands at their sides, and yet, they say nothing. I touch the blaster hidden beneath my cloak for reassurance.

We spot a salesman with a table full of rusty parts. "Pardon me, vendor," I begin, but before I can finish, the man darts away into a nearby alley.

We follow him into the alley where he quietly speaks with two dirty-faced children hiding behind piles of trash. "You there," Din says. "I need some information. I'm looking for someone."

"Please," the vendor says, "do not speak to them, or to any of us."

"Look," I say, forcing a positive smile, "we just want to know-."

"The Magistrate wants to see you." I whip around to face the warbled, mechanical voice that spoke to us. It's two more guards. Every inch of them is covered in either armor or grimy brown fabric. Their faces are covered with adaptation masks, meaning they must be either aliens or humans using scare tactics.

I glance at the Mandalorian, waiting for his lead. He nods. We follow the guards, heading toward the largest building in town. That's when I notice the prisoners.

They line the street in thin electrical cages, balancing on the precipice of life and death. "Help us," one of them cries as we approach. He's immediately shocked. His skin is sunken and sallow while his bones stick out like limbs of their own. My stomach churns as my blood runs cold. I try to keep my eyes down, to not let my fury show as we're escorted within another set of gates.

We pass through a second set of gates. This can't be good. But as the second doors open, a serene courtyard awaits us. A raised walkway free of cracks divides a shallow blue pond into two. Bonsai trees grow out of the water, their leaves meticulously trimmed. The stark contrast between this and the poverty of the common people makes me want to burn the place to the ground.

"Come forward," a woman beacons us. She's standing on the walkway, her eyes scanning the lush zen garden instead of us. "You are a Mandalorian?"

"Yes," Din replies, stepping in front of me protectively.

"I have a proposition that may interest you," the Magistrate says, sprinkling something on the surface of the water.

"My price is high," the Mandalorian warns. But I know money won't be an issue for her. Her thick gray hair is tied back in a neat braid and gleams with health. Her eyebrows are thin and neatly trimmed, placed perfectly on a nearly wrinkle-less face. She wears fine green robes with a golden chain. Expensive, yet not flashy. Tasteful.

"This target is priceless," she says smoothly. I notice a small tattoo near her hairline, yet I don't recognize the symbol. "A Jedi plagued me."

My heart hammers wildly. What if this is trap?

The Magistrate continues, unaware of my plight. "I want you to kill her."

"That's a difficult task," Din says.

"One that you are well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore."

"As I said, my price is high."

She smoothly reaches behind herself. A guard marches forward, carrying a spear.

"What do you make of this?" The Magistrate asks, pointing the deadly tip toward us.

The Mandalorian steps forward cautiously, wary of any sudden moves. He holds out his hands, and she places the staff into them. He clanks the metal against his armor, and a sound rings out, pure and true.

"Beskar," Din says in wonder.

"Pure Beskar," the Magistrate says with a smug smile. "Like your armor. Kill the Jedi and it's yours."

Din returns the spear to her. "Where do I find this Jedi?"