Stowaway | A Mandalorian Love Story | Din Djarin x OC

Chapter Two: Neon

AUTHOR'S NOTE
Suggested Listening:
The Vinciguerra Affair - Daniel Pemberton (from The Man from U.N.C.L.E.) - ...planetary approach
Stealing the Pinch - David Holmes (from Ocean's Eleven) - ...neon and noise
Volcano Springs - James Horner/Simon Franglen (from The Magnificent Seven) - ...recognized
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"So..."

It had been an excruciating ten minutes of complete and total silence — save for the occasional coo of the kid. I was used to silence — namely, my own. I'd grown adept at avoiding connection, letting the conversation of saloon patrons wash over me — past me — to the next set of ears available. Quiet was powerful. Quiet was safe.

Yet here, on this ship, hurtling away from the only planet I'd known for the past six years and back into the wide, dangerous expanse of the galaxy, I was finding silence deeply uncomfortable — mainly because I didn't know my driver's name.

"To whom do I owe my thanks?"

His helmet pivoted as he threw a look over his shoulder in my general direction. He didn't answer.

"Only because I like to thank people who help me, and thanks are so much more effective with a name attached," I tried a disarming smile, but his gaze had returned to the looming space ahead.

"You don't need to know," he said.

"Fair enough," I conceded. I glanced sideways at the kid, now stretching his arms out toward the ship's controls. "How about his name?"

The Mandalorian glanced back at the kid.

"You don't need to know his name, either."

I raised an eyebrow, curiously. Almost in response to the Mandalorian's gruffness, the little one waved at me and giggled.

We shuddered out of hyperdrive and the glittering, looming form of Coruscant appeared before us. Dank Farrik, I thought to myself.

"Where are you going on Coruscant?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"The lower levels of the Uscru District," he replied. "I'm following up on a lead." He didn't elaborate further, but I had the information most pertinent to my situation.

The lower levels, AKA the snake's nest. Perfect.

Of all the planets and moons and asteroids in the entire galaxy, we were headed for the one spot where every person I ran into would probably leap at the chance to turn me in for my ransom.

"You're taking a kid down there?" I looked over at the little guy, who was seemingly trying to gauge how many funny noises he could make in one breath.

"He's safe," the Mandalorian replied, an edge to his voice.

Ooh. Touched a nerve.

We landed in a port in Uscru that was bustling with people — most of them looked like excitable tourists from all over the galaxy. My chest felt heavy. I hadn't been around this many people since before I ran away, and my mind was fizzing. How could I possibly keep track of them all? Well, I thought, with a deep sigh. I've done the small hideout thing, and that didn't work in the end. Maybe I'll try the little fish in the giant, enormous pond thing.

We disembarked and the fresh night air had a touch of moisture to it. I remembered hearing about some silly rule that it wasn't allowed to rain at night here — I wondered if it was still true.

I turned to face the kid, who's bassinet floated serenely beside the Mandalorian. He didn't seem intimidated by the big city in the least — the opposite, in fact. I gave the Mandalorian a tight smile.