The Mandalorian's Slave

The Hidden Society

Waves of nausea crash over me and it takes everything that I have not to vomit all over my Master. I've fallen hard before from junked ships in the desert on Jakku. Nothing has made me feel like this. Besides the pounding in my head, I feel weak. Drained.

The Mandalorian reminds silent, but it's not a stony silence. Instead, it's becoming more and more comfortable. Because it's not completely silent. There's the roar of the engine, the soft electrical sound of the lights, the slight squeaking of the pilot's seat. It's different from what I'm used to, but it's not bad. Not bad at all.

It seems to take ages to reach Nevarro. Maybe that's because I'm actually awake this time though.

By the time we reach the volcanic planet, head is throbbing so strong that I just want to close my eyes and sleep for days. It takes effort to keep my eyes open as we land. The Crest lands awkwardly, the ship groaning as it touches the earth. It'll need repairs, but I'm sure the Mandalorian already knows that.

The hatch screeches as it lowers. The beast may not have killed us, but it left its mark. The sun glares down at me as I step out of the ship. My eyes water and my head spins, but I manage to take in my scorching surroundings.

Nevarro is nothing like the frozen planted we just left. There the air was pure and fresh. Here the air carries the rotten stench of sulfur, mingled with sweat and dung. Here the world is bathed in the warm colors of red and cold. There, the world was white and blue, the snow shining like diamonds.

I stumble behind my Master as he marches forward. His pace is brisk and hard to keep up with. He must notice my struggle because he stops and waits for me.

"Here." For the second time today, the Mandalorian offers me his hand. I take it. His grip is firm and steady. "Just keep walking. Close your eyes if you have to."

The Mandalorian pulls me forward. Despite my squinting, I notice a few things. One: we're entering a crowded bazaar. Half of the people here are humans, the other an assortment of aliens. Two: the crowd parts slightly for my Master. Nothing terribly dramatic, but enough for me to notice. Interesting.

We wind our way through the bazaar as new scents wash over me. There's tangy spices, sweet perfumes, and grilling meat. My stomach growls loudly. Does the Mandalorian never eat?

I swear I'm going to faint when we reach a narrow alleyway. The buildings are so close together that I have to walk behind my Master. Lose sand kicks up clouds behind us.

The Mandalorian crouches down next to what appears to be some sort of ancient cellar door. There's a small knob protruding from it, which my Master turns rapidly. There's a series of small clicks, followed by one large clank. The door swings open on groaning hinges.

I peer into the darkness below. All I can see is a small, rickety ladder. But I can feel something. Something powerful and secretive.

"You're wearing a dress. Go first."

I can't argue with that logic. The ladder creaks beneath me as I step onto it, but what choice do I have? Splintering wood digs into my hands as I lower myself into the cavern below. 

I watch as the Mandalorian climbs down easily. The ladder doesn't make a noise for him. That doesn't make sense considering he has to be almost double my weight with all that armor on.  

"Follow me." The Mandalorian extends a hand to me.

"No I planned on finding it myself." I say with a smirk. My Master lets out a grunt. Does this guy never laugh?

He leads me down a narrow hallway. I can't see anything. The only thing I feel is the Mandalorian's gloved hand wrapped around mine and the rough floor beneath my slippered feet. The air is cool and moist, but not stagnant.  Something is keeping everything flowing.

We take what feels like a million twists and turns. At least the darkness doesn't hurt as bad as the light.

Suddenly we're stopped. There's a knocking sound and then rocks grinding against each other. Light filters through a narrow gap in the wall in front of us. It's slowly growing bigger.

The Mandalorian lets go of my hand. I shouldn't feel my heart drop the way it does, but it happens anyway. It's a good thing it's dark so he doesn't see my flushed cheeks. I hate the hopeless romantic part of me.

My Master slips through the growing crack and I follow him. I step down into a small room with rows of white cots. Sitting in a overly plush chair is another Mandalorian.

This one is smaller than my Master. Their head snaps up as we enter the room.

"An outsider? Here? Have you gone mad?" A feminine voice exits the helmet and fills the room while venomous hostility. Although I can't see her eyes, I know she's staring directly at me.

"Please, she needs help. And she's not an outsider, she's my slave." I'm surprised by my Master's pleading tone.

The other Mandalorian is silent for a long moment. I can practically feel her thinking. Finally she says, "Only because she's a slave. But I'm not happy about it. What's wrong with her?"

"She's exhausted and she hit her head badly." My Master answers for me.

"I know exactly what to do." She disappears behind a curtain. I can faint rustling and clanking of dishes. A moment later she's back, with what looks like a cup of tea and a balm. "Chug the tea while I apply the ointment."

I do as I'm told because I'm a slave and it's not like I have much of a choice. The tea is so bitter that I can't help but make a face as I taste it. The female Mandalorian points toward one of the cots so I tentatively sit on the edge of it.

"Chug now. It's supposed to be bitter like that."

The taste is overwhelming but I manage to drink it anyways. The balm stings as she applies it to my forehead. I must have an open scrape or something because my head screams in pain.

It's over as quickly as it begins. "You should feel tired now. All you can do is rest."

"I must go find a new assignment. May she stay here while I return to the world above?"

The female Mandalorian lets out a snort. "You really are testing me today. Yeah she can stay but not past nightfall. And if I get in any trouble you're taking all the blame."

I don't want him to leave, but my Master nods as if her demands are normal. "Get some sleep Aster."

"Ah, so she does have a name," the female Mandalorian says with glee. "Well Aster, you had better lay down and sleep before your Master gets denounced for break the Code."