𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 - Star Wars Story

Chapter 7: Veiled Arrival

As consciousness returned, I found myself no longer within the confines of the New Republic vessel. Instead, I was nestled aboard the familiar hum of the Razor Crest. A sense of disorientation washed over me, but I quickly recalled my true nature - I was a dragon, after all. The notion that Mando had single-handedly transported me here seemed preposterous, yet there I was.

My gaze drifted downwards, settling upon the source of the heat radiating from my core. There lay Gorgu, peacefully slumbering in the crook of my underbelly. Unable to resist, I gently nuzzled his scaly head, eliciting a soft murmur from deep within his chest. My heart swelled with affection.

The metallic scrape of Mandalorian armor against durasteel drew my attention skyward. Descending the ladder with practiced ease was none other than Din Djarin himself. Though obscured behind his T-visored helm, his presence remained unmistakable: the subtle shift in air pressure, the faint trace of ozone detectable only to my heightened senses.

"He likely won't abandon you, not even for a moment," he offered, drawing nearer. His tone resonated with sincerity, striking a chord deep within me.

"I wouldn't wish him to depart either," I replied softly, my voice rich with adoration as I gazed at the tiny creature cradled between us. Turning back to Din, curiosity piqued, I queried, "How did you manage to convey me from that vessel unto this one? Surely, such a feat requires strength beyond human norms?"

Din shrugged nonchalantly, replying, "It posed little challenge." His response carried an undertone of modesty, hinting at unspoken abilities beneath his stoic exterior.

Intrigued, I pressed further, arching an eyebrow quizzically. "Truly? No one has ever successfully moved me hitherto. You must possess considerable might." Playfully taunting, I watched as color rose in his cheeks, betraying a blush hidden behind the mask. With a cough stifled by gloved fingers, he hesitated briefly before conceding, "Perhaps..."

Chuckling quietly, I stretched lazily, extending a wing to create a makeshift bed alongside Gorgu. "Rest if thou wilt," I urged, inviting him to join us in our respite. Rolling my eyes good-naturedly, I settled back onto my haunches, preparing for another bout of well-deserved sleep.

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When consciousness claimed me once more, the atmosphere within the Razor Crest held an unfamiliar tang. It took mere moments for my keen senses to discern the additional aromas permeating the cabin.

Lifting my gaze, I encountered the welcoming sight of Cara Dune's beaming countenance. Instinctively, I nudged my snout into her midriff, earning a startled yip followed by a reassuring pat on my head. Despite our size difference, I harbored genuine fondness for the former Rebellion shock trooper who had assisted us on Sorgan.

Her assistance appeared to extend to our current situation as well, judging by her presence here.

"What brings you aboard, fair warrior?" I inquired genially, unable to suppress a grin.

Cara glanced aside, responding, "We've been summoned by the Mandalorian." She hesitated, adding, "If that's alright with you, of course."

A deeper baritone joined the conversation, prompting me to raise my head and behold a stranger. Tall and lean, he possessed an air of quiet authority. Extending a hand, he introduced himself as Kuiil. I reciprocated with a gentle bump of my muzzle, intrigued by this unknown variable.

His subsequent remark caused my ears to perk up: "So, you're the mythical white beast the villagers spoke of." Amusement colored his tone, inciting a rumbling snort from deep within my chest.

"Indeed, I am," I confirmed, regarding him intently. "And pray tell, dear sir, do you happen to know our destination?"

Kuiil nodded solemnly, relaying, "Our objective lies in confronting your captor, the warlord Greef Karga seeks to eliminate."

At this revelation, indignation surged through me, igniting a fiery glow in my emerald eyes. How dare that fiend continue to pursue me! Yet, amidst the fury coursing through my veins, concern for Gorgu tempered my wrath. Lowering myself onto my haunches, I carefully monitored the infant Dragon while issuing instructions to ensure his safety.

Once satisfied with their compliance, I fixed each crew member with a steely stare. "None shall accompany us save ourselves," I declared firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. Their wide-eyed astonishment merely fueled my determination. We four stood united—and prepared to vanquish any adversary threatening our makeshift family.

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Upon reaching Nevarro, I activated my cloaking device, ensuring I remained concealed from Greef Karga's scrutiny. Silently, I navigated the sandy terrain, maintaining a discreet distance behind Mando, Cara, and Kuiil atop their respective Blurg mounts. The reek of these creatures nearly overwhelmed my olfactory sensors, but professional courtesy prevailed—they weren't food, after all.

As we approached the base of operations, everything transpired exactly as anticipated. Karga stood defiantly, feigning offense at our arrival. Keeping my composure, I released a barely audible growl, confident that neither party detected my presence.

Mando maintained his silence throughout the exchange, allowing Karga's curiosity to escalate. Finally, the charade ended, culminating in my dramatic reveal. An array of expressions flickered across Karga's entourage, ranging from terror to fascination. Ignoring their reactions, I focused on the task ahead.

Despite my misgivings, I accompanied the group toward the encampment. Alongside Mando, I whispered sternly, "Should danger arise, flee." Before he could respond, I strode past him, positioning myself among my trusted companions. Together, we ventured forth, ready to confront whatever challenges awaited us within Nevarro's shadowy depths.