"So, we're going to Nevarro?" Cara seems to have calmed down a bit, but I still catch her giving me dirty looks. Maybe it's my imagination. Or maybe she knows what the Mandalorian and I just did.
"Have you ever been?" I force myself to sound lighthearted.
"No. We lost a lot of our forces there. The city's dug in pretty deep. No cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control 'till the end of the war."
Everything Cara says goes over my head, but I'm glad that she's not accusing me of being a killer anymore. I try my best to picture this war that Cara and Kuiil served in. I know a lot of junk from space battles floated down to Jakku from this war, but that's where my knowledge ends. I don't want to seem stupid and ask.
"The warlord we're taking down was an Imperial officer." The Mandalorian's tone is grave.
"What position?" Cara pulls out her blaster and begins furiously polishing it.
"Hard to tell. No insignia anymore. I took out the safe house when I snatched the kid. More Imps have reinforced since."
"There's something more going on," I murmur. I don't know how I know, I just feel it. I know it in my heart.
"I agree," Cara says, much to my surprise.
"Maybe. We'll find out more when we land."
The doors opens abruptly. In stumbles IG-11.
"I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?" IG-11's robotic droning voice interrupts our thoughts.
"I'm not hungry," the Mandalorian says tersely.
"I'll eat here," I say, not one to turn away free food.
"Under no circumstances does that thing leave the ship," the Mandalorian grits.
"You've got a real thing for droids, don't you?" Cara laughs as she accepts a plate of food.
"I got a real thing for that droid," spits the Mandalorian.
"The Ugnaught said he rewired it." Cara speaks through a mouthful of surprisingly good food.
"That thing was designed to kill things. I don't care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature."
"Well, it shouldn't be a long job anyway," I say, trying to keep us upbeat.
"We take out the head Imp, the rest will run like rats." Cara adds in agreement.
The rest of the journey is spent in terse silence. Kuiil works on the Child's cradle. Cara paces nervously. I fidget with the blaster that the Mandalorian has given me. I know how to shoot now, but that doesn't make me feel any safer.
We're greeted by a small band of the Mandalorian's associates when we land. Leading them is the man I assume to be Greef Karga.
"Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando, but things have gotten complicated since you were last here." Karga eyes our blurrgs. I'm sure we look strange. The Mandalorian and I share one, while Kuiil rides to our left and Cara to our right.
I take the change to the study Greef Karga. He appears to be in his late fourties, although people tend to age faster on desert planets such as this. His rich brown skin is lined with deep wrinkles and I'm surprised to see smile lines on his face. He has short curly hair that's black with gray peppered in. A fat mustache dominates his upper lip. All together, he doesn't appear evil. But looks can be deceiving.
"It appears that introductions are in order." Karga studies our group while I look at his. "It seems we've both provided a security detail. I recommend the shock trooper guards the ship. These lava fields are lousy with Jawas."
"She's coming with me." I can feel the tension radiating from the Mandalorian.
"But the town is now run by ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up." Karga protests lightly, but I can tell his true intent: he wants the Mandalorian with as little protection as possible.
"She's coming."
"Fine," Karga spits as Cara fixes him a menacing glare. "Fine. At least cover your tattoo. No need to flaunt it. Now, where is the little one?"
Our small gang exchanges a glance. Suddenly, we're past our petty fighting. Now, we're one.
The Mandalorian presses a button on his wrist guard. The Child's pod drifts forward, right to my side.
"Ah, I see you've brought him a nanny." Karga eyes me, no doubt trying to assess if I'm a threat or not.
"A nanny who can shoot," I say sweetly. The pram hisses open and Greef bends down to eye the Child.
"So, this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about." I can feel the Mandalorian's fingers inching toward his gun. My own hand rests on my blaster.
"What a precious little creature," Karga says, lifting the Child out of the cradle. "I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on it's wrinkled little head." He sets the Child back down. "Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all.
The Mandalorian presses another button, and the lid to the pram closes. The pod shoots back behind us.
"The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out on the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light." Karga proposes. The Mandalorian hesitates before nodding.
The trip is unlike anything I could have imagined. Greef and the three bounty hunters lead us on foot. We follow on the blurrgs.
We travel across steaming lava fields. The sulfurous smell surrounds us, stinging my nostrils. The heat is nearly unbearable, causing sweat to dampen my thick curls. It's grueling, and yet, it's strangely beautiful. The black crusted harden lava is unlike anything I ever saw on Jakku. I can't help but stare, mesmerized by the occasional ribbon of hot lava.
At last, we arrive at our campsite. The hardened lava fields gave way to soft black sand. As I sit down, I run my hands through it. The sand stains my fingertips.
We light a small fire as one of the bounty hunter searches for dinner. No one speaks as we wait. I keep one hand cautiously placed on my blaster.
It doesn't take long for the bounty hunter to return with a goat. He must be good at his job.
We cook it over the fire. Everything is silent except for the occasional crackle of the fire and the sound of hissing lava.
The spell of silence doesn't break as we eat. The goat is good, so I begin feeding small chunks to the Child. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
"I guess the little bigger's a carnivore," Karga says, breaking the silence. I could almost cry with relief. "Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie."
"Let's go over the plan again." The Mandalorian interrupts grimly.
"We both enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him." When Greef says it like that, our plan sounds easy.
"Tell me about his reinforcements."
"They're all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they'll all scatter."
"And what if they don't?"
"They will," Karga assures us.
"That's not good enough," hisses the Mandalorian.
"If, for arguments sake, a few of them don't realize that I'm their best path to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock trooper, will cut down anyone who bucks."
"How many will there be?"
"No more than four." Greef Karga stands up stiffly. "He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. Trust me. Nothing can go wrong."
As a scream echos through the night and a large, flying shape swoops down at us, I realize how big of a lie that really is.
YOU ARE READING
The Mandalorian's Slave
FanfictionI was born a slave. I'm used to being traded and sold. The universe seems to be on my side because I'm unnaturally lucky. That's how I became the Mandalorian's slave and how I left Jakku.
