WIRED, d. djarin ¹

01.2

⠀⠀⠀ He sighs again, and starts walking.

⠀⠀⠀ IRONICALLY, IT IS the wind that saves Mando. In one of its lulls, he catches a glimpse of his speeder, barely visible. Then the wind pours snow between them again, and Mando fixes his eyes on the spot, even as it vanishes. A minute later, he nearly falls over it.

⠀⠀⠀ He rights the speeder and begins zipping back toward the town. There are dangers around him, Mando knows, and he keeps his eyes open and ears pricked. A good thing too, because it takes him a second to register splintering ice.

⠀⠀⠀ He doesn't bother looking down, just swerves away from the jagged gash in the ice. And not a second too soon; behind him, a ravinak erupts out of the ice, its massive jaws snapping shut where he was a second ago. Shards of ice shoot out, pinging off his beskar, and freezing water pours down the cracks in his armor.

⠀⠀⠀ Mando grits his teeth as the ravinak crashes down again, spraying him with more icy water. He begins to zigzag across the frozen sea. Behind him, the ravinak bellows in rage. Then the town looms out of the snow, and he's zipping between buildings.

⠀⠀⠀ HE'S THANKFUL FOR the tracking fob, because without it, Mando would be lost. The buildings form a ghost town, a silent, snow-cloaked maze that he doesn't trust. Several times, the fob begins blinking slower, and he turns until it begins picking up its pace again.

⠀⠀⠀ He wonders if - hopes that - the thief has crashed somewhere, and he can just cart her off to the Crest. That would be lovely.

⠀⠀⠀ But Mando is not an optimist, and he laughs at himself beneath his helmet. 

⠀⠀⠀ He's laughing less when the fob begins blinking furiously, and he finds the wreckage of the thief's speeder. It's crashed into a wall, and there really isn't much left. Where its remains burn, the snow has melted, leaving a halo of warmth and no sign of a body.

⠀⠀⠀ Unbelievable. He's beginning to understand this kid's track record.

⠀⠀⠀ He steps back, looking for footprints, an indent in the snow, anything to tell him where the thief has vanished to. But if there was any sign of it in the first place, it's gone now, wiped away by the screaming wind.

⠀⠀⠀ He does not relax. The fact that the fob is still blinking madly means that she's nearby, and Mando doesn't know where.

⠀⠀⠀ He slings his rifle off his back.

⠀⠀⠀ Bang.

⠀⠀⠀ He's familiar with the sharp rapport of a blaster, muted as it is by the snow, but he's not familiar with not being able to see where it came from. The blast hits him hard in the shoulder, and he stumbles back.

⠀⠀⠀ In an instant, his rifle is on his shoulder, safety off. A few extra credits aren't worth his life.

⠀⠀⠀ The fire at his back begins to die in the cold wind, the shadows lengthening and dancing wildly across the blowing snow. He waits, watching for any flicker of motion in all the white. Because in all the nothingness around him, someone is prowling.

⠀⠀⠀ He jerks around when he hears a voice behind him.

⠀⠀⠀ "...ando!" it shouts, and it is everywhere and nowhere all at once. Mando's finger tightens on the trigger.

⠀⠀⠀ "..ive me... the tr... ing... ob!"

⠀⠀⠀ "I don't have it," he lies.

⠀⠀⠀ "...u're... ying."