𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄 » 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗇

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

SHE DIDN'T LIKE THIS IDEA.

She didn't want the child in the hands of the Empire, who would surely mistreat him, like they did her, and she couldn't let that happen. The more she seemed to think about it, the more her list of worries increased. The Mandalorian seemed to act like he didn't mind, when in fact, he too was having the same conflict.

"Don't follow me," he told her as they stood on the ship, in front of the exit ramp, "Remember, you're still being hunted. I don't want you to be hurt."

Faeyth opened her mouth to argue back, then shut it, and chewed her lip worriedly, "Okay."

"And don't touch any buttons, and try not to be seen. I'll be back in a little while."

"Promise?"

He looked at her and nodded, "I promise."

Mando gave her one last incline of the head and then walked away, the crib floating at his side. Her stomach knotted anxiously, an ill feeling settling over her as she watched him disappear into the crowds of Nevarro.

She climbed back into the cockpit, taking her normal seat and crossing her legs and starting to meditate.

The air was cool and calm, yet there was a hint of restlessness in it. Her thoughts turned to her Master, whether he would've approved of her being with a Mandalorian, let alone revealing to him that she was a Jedi.

"Faeyth," a voice called, a twinge of familiarity going through her as the echoing words brought her back into real life. She broke concentration, hitting the floor with an ungraceful thud, opening her eyes to see the translucent version of Yoda sitting on a box near her. A smile seemed to automatically make it's way onto her face, her heart lifting at the sight. "Master Yoda," she bowed her head in respect.

His lips twitched into a smile, "Faeyth. Good to see you, it is, but ungraceful that fall was."

She rolled her eyes, "Well you broke my concentration."

He laughed at her, before his expression turned more serious, leaning forward on his small cane, peering at her with curiosity in his squinted eyes, "Conflicted, you are. Why?"

"Am I on the right path Master? Am I doing the right thing? This child is—"

"A Jedi too, Grogu is," he mused, leaning back slightly. She frowned: it's name was Grogu?

Faeyth furrowed her eyebrows, deciding to change the subject, "That day Mando saved me, the Force told me to trust him. Was it the right decision?"

"A nice man, the Mandalorian is. Cares for you greatly, he does," he revealed wisely, "Right one, your path is, don't doubt the Force, Faeyth. Protect the child, you must. He is like you."

Her eyebrows furrowed again, then they relaxed, and she nodded, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Thank you Master. I was unsure. It feels both right and wrong, and I'm not sure leaving him with the Empire is the right decision."

"Correct you are," he tapped his cane on the floor but didn't elaborate further, which made her sigh, "Get him back, you must."

There was the sound of footsteps downstairs, making her confused. Mando was one person, not multiple, and he would not walk that slowly, or deliberately quiet. To be honest, he probably would've ran up to see if she was still there. Besides, he was at that place, currently trading the child for a reward.

She looked at the now empty spot where Yoda had been a few seconds ago, before she stepped down the ladder, going to investigate the people, turning to see the some men crowding the ship, their guns aimed at her.

Her tilted her head quizzically; who were these people? Were they like the men before? The ones that tried to take her?

"They were right," the leader said, stepping closer to her, the guards following his movements, "You are a true Mandalorian."

It was like she was frozen, paralyzed with cold terror, her chest tightening with trepidation, she had forgotten to wear her sabers, and now they were in his grasp. "Your kind are hard to come across," he told her, "But then again you also travel with another person who is hard to come across."

"Who are you?"

He tilted his head, his smile spreading into a cruel, twisted smirk, one that made her heart skip a scared beat, "You are worth a heavy bounty, running away from the Imps and all."

Faeyth was shaking, and she knew that, she could feel her knuckles turning white she was clenching her fists so hard, "Who are you?"

One of the guards pushed her forward, towards him, losing her footing and falling into his arms. Immediately, she shoved him off, standing up and backing away, into the chest of another man. "Come with me, you don't have to be frightened, dear," he said in a menacing fashion, "I'm not going to hurt you."

She shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat, "You're lying."

He had lost his nice façade, his expression changing from welcoming to harsh and scary in the matter of alarming seconds, "Now don't be difficult, I don't want to have to hurt you just to get what I want."

"I'm staying here," Faeyth said adamantly, "With him." Her mind was reeling and she was alarmed; she didn't want to go back, she didn't want to leave her friend, she didn't want to be hurt again. Where was he? she wondered helplessly, the small window of hope closing in her heart. "I don't want to go."

He smirked, "We both know you don't have a say in that."

Her eyes stung with tears, her chest tightening uncomfortably as she stared at his cold, malicious eyes, all the horrible memories resurfacing from where she had tried to push them away.

"I'm—" Something small and thin was stabbed in her neck, making her stop, immediately feeling an overwhelming sense of weariness, swaying on the spot, blinking but her eyes felt as heavy as lead, "What- you...?"

She didn't finished her sentence, passing out cold on the floor of the Razor Crest, the last thing she remembered hearing was: "Take her back."

Well, shit.