The Mandalorian's Slave

Rebuilding

The sky was black by the time we arrived back at the ship. Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, but it looked even more wrecked, more hopeless, than I remembered.

We got to work immediately. The Mandalorian doubted me at first, but I quickly proved myself. We worked so hard there was barely time to speak. In a way, that was a blessing.

We're all gathered in the cockpit, the child sleeping peacefully in my arms. This is the moment of truth. If the engine doesn't start, we're stuck and all of our hard work was for nothing. I hold my breath as the Mandalorian flips the switch. The engines roar to life immediately, letting out a healthy purr.

I smile to myself. Not bad work for a scavenger slave. The child snores softly, oblivious to victory I just had.

The Mandalorian powers the ship down and turns to Kuiil. "I can't thank you enough. Please allow me to give you a portion of the reward."

"I cannot accept," Kuiil says, shaking his head slightly. "You are my guest, and I am therefore in your service." He bends down and picks up his tool kit.

"I could use a crew member of your ability, and I can pay handsomely." The Mandalorian is persistent for someone who claims to work alone.

I try to ignore the stab of disappointment I feel in my chest. Yes Kuiil was very helpful, but so was I. But it's not a slave's place to be praised. I did what I had to because it's my purpose.

"I am honored, but I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude." Kuiil's voice is gentle and I hear genuine sadness in it.

"I understand," the Mandalorian says curtly. "Then all I can offer is my thanks."

"And I offer mine. Thank you for bringing peace to my valley." Kuiil nods to me, and I bow slightly to him before he leaves. "And good luck with the child," he calls over his shoulder, as an afterthought. "May it survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken."

I wave as Kuiil mounts a blurrg and rides off into the distance, kicking up clouds of dust in his wake. I will miss him.

I walk back to the cockpit and place the child in its cradle. I sit down in the passenger seat as the Mandalorian fires up the engines again. The sound of the engines is sweet as we take off, leaving the rocky planet far behind us.

"You should rest." The Mandalorian says it as a command, not a request.

"Yes Master." I'm too tired to argue, and frankly I do want to rest. My body is sore and my eyes are struggling to stay open. I open the bedroll and fall asleep almost immediately.

"Wake up." The Mandalorian is standing over me, the child in the floating cradle next to him.

"Have we reached Navarro?" I get up quickly and immediately begin cleaning up where I slept.

"Yes. The child is to be delivered to the client directly. You can't come with. Wait here and guard the ship." There's a certain undertone in his voice that warns me that arguing will do me no good.

"Yes Master." I bow my head obediently and watch as he leaves the ship. There's something special about that child. I know it.

I take my place in the passenger's seat and watch out the windshield. Navarro is a dirty planet, with all the life compacted into one place. And yet, I feel drawn to it. I want to leave the ship, to walk down the winding streets. But of course I can't. A command is a command and I can't afford to break anymore.

Time seems to crawl by. I watch the sun slowly travel across the brilliant blue sky. I try to ignore the anxiety knotting up my stomach. Surely the Mandalorian should be back by now? Unless something terrible happened...

I try to distract myself by attempting to tap into that strange feeling I occasionally feel in my stomach. I sense it there, slumbering. I try to access it but it slips away. Maybe I'm a freak. Or maybe I'm just insane. That would explain the past week.

The day slips by slowly as I wait for the Mandalorian. I'm starting to get worried when I hear the hatch open. My Master looks different. His armor is new and shiny. I also noticed new weapons strapped to his belt.

"What happened to the child?" The question leaves my mouth before I can stop myself.

"It is against the code to ask." The Mandalorian sits down in the pilot seat. He reaches toward the shifter, but stops.

The silence in the cockpit is heavy. I swear I can feel his conflict internally. I'm fervently praying that he'll change his mind.

"Wait here." The Mandalorian gets up. "I'm just going to make sure they won't harm the child. Nothing more."

"Thank you," I gush.

The Mandalorian gives me a curt nod before leaving the ship once more. I stare out the window eagerly. There's something special about that child, I know it.