Balance || The Mandalorian [ON HIATUS]

✦ Fifteen

A sudden whimper in the midst of the mayhem caught my attention, and I swiftly turned my head to meet the eyes of source of the pitiful sound.

A young boy who appeared to be hardly eight years old sat in the corner of the room, wearing faded, ragged clothing with his arms and legs bound in ropes. Thin strands of black hair framed his grimy face as he shrank away from the commotion, trembling and trying to make himself as small as possible as if a mere fly on the wall.

With my jaw set, I aimed my blaster. Three shots rang out, and the three men dropped lifelessly to the ground, skirmish forgotten in death. I lowered my blaster and finally entered the room, gaze fixed on the young child.

He stared straight ahead at me with a dazed, yet fearful look in his green eyes. He hugged his knees and stayed completely still, observing my smallest movements with apprehension. Pure fear rolled off of him in waves. What is a child doing in a place like this? 

I slowly approached him, lifting my hands up off of my blaster to show that I had no malicious intent. "My name is y/n." I kneeled down in front of him, and spoke slowly and quietly, not wanting to startle or further frighten the boy. "Can I free you?"

He hesitated, then faintly moved his head up and down by a few degrees. I drew my knife, causing him to flinch and lean away from the Beskar blade with a sharp intake of breath. "Hey, it's okay. I'm going to use it to cut the ropes. Is that alright?" Another faint nod. With deliberate caution, I sawed at the ropes, and they fell apart within moments. 

The boy sighed in relief, massaging the areas on his wrists and ankles that had formed dark bruises. He looked up at me with wide, sea-green eyes, waiting for my next move.

With a pang of guilt, I recalled my padawan and his eyes of the same hue, his hair of the same unruly type. Similar, yet so different...

Enough, y/n. Help the boy.

"Here." I handed him the pouch of credits given to me by Silya, hoping he would accept it a sign of goodwill. After a moment's hesitation, he took the pouch and drew his hand back quickly as if afraid I would take them away. "You can keep them. I'm going to help, I promise." He looked up at me once more, still uneasy, but with curiosity piqued.

"Are your parents here?" At my question, the child visibly deflated, and he shrugged sadly. "It's okay, I'll help you find them." I sent him gentle ripples of comfort through the Force, hoping it would alleviate some of the tension in his mind.

With the boy sticking close to me, his fear giving way to intrigue, I left the room, choosing to explore the rest of the compound for any potential threats or lost children.

Most doorways we stumbled upon lead into rooms that housed Toydarians in a drunken stupor or circles of people playing intense games of Sabacc that, more often than not, broke out in brawls. The members of the crime syndicate were all heavily armed, with each person carrying multiple blasters, vibroblades, and the like. Upon closer inspection, they seemed to be celebrating a victory and were in no state to use their weapons.

I breathed an unconscious sigh of relief, knowing that the use of my lightsaber would be unnecessary for this task. As much as the violet blades would provide an odd sort of comfort with the looming prospect of being hunted down by Imperials, it would not be wise to activate them in a place such as this.

Leaning against a wall of an empty room with the boy following suit, I shut my eyes for a moment, immersing myself in the Force to determine whether there were any enemies lurking in the shadows. All the hostile beings seemed to have been occupying the rooms I took a look into, however, a tremor in the Force told me that there were more people present. Their Force signatures were not malevolent, but curiosity won out and I decided to investigate.