Stowaway | A Mandalorian Love Story | Din Djarin x OC

Chapter Three: The Rescues

AUTHOR'S NOTE
Suggested Listening:
T-Rex Rescue & Finale - John Williams (from Jurassic Park) - ...the melee
Skateboard Chase - Alan Silvestri (from Back to the Future) - ...the melee continued
Rattlesnake Ridge - Joel Mcneely (from A Million Ways to Die in the West) - ...holding hands
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Suddenly, a great roar pierced the air, and I heard screams. I froze, just in time for a barrel to whump past me and smash into a ship. I wheeled around to see a rancor stretching into the air, snapping the ropes that were connecting it to the hands of some almost pathetically incapable smugglers. It took a great swipe and two of them tumbled to the side. The whole port sprang to life — some fled on foot, others ran toward the danger, but most hastily ran to their ships to get their hardware out of there as quickly as possible. The rancor began rampaging into the crowd, roaring and demolishing crates and speeders. Tourist families ran screaming, but the rancor wasn't to be outrun. In the melee, I saw a small child, a boy, wailing — the stampede had ripped his family in different directions and he was frozen, clinging to a crate, in the direct path of the rancor. I looked around, frantically, and grabbed a small, heavy barrel, heaving it toward the fracas. It bounced along, crashing into the rancor's head — not enough to do any damage, obviously, but it wheeled around and locked it's raging eyes on me. The boy was scooped up by an adult — I hoped it was his mother — and the rancor began careening in my direction. Yikes. I dashed away, weaving in and out of crates and ships. Maybe I could lose it in the mess.

I dodged and scrambled, but eventually I ended up cornered against a ship. I slipped underneath it, and was about to roll out the other side, when I felt a hand grab me. I looked to my left to see the Mandalorian, on his hands and knees, crouched down next to me.

"You!" I gasped.

A barrel crashed into the ship and it shook with vigor.

"Come on, we've got to keep moving," I hissed, and made to pull away, but he was stronger than me.

"Wait!" He insisted, and held me in place.

"Are you kidding? It's going to come down on the ship and crush us!"

"Just trust me," he said, and pointed forward. The rancor ran up to the ship and I closed my eyes, bracing for impact — but instead, it barreled right into the ship, rolling with it off of where we were crouched and tumbling past us.

"NOW run," he said, and we both scrambled up.

We ran back in the opposite direction and hid behind a shipping container as the rancor wrestled the ship, trying to get back up.

"Where's the kid?" I panted.

"He's somewhere back there," he nodded toward where his ship was parked, breathing heavily. He sounded afraid. "I lost him in the mess."

"You LOST him?" I asked, more accusatorially than I meant to.

"He's fine," he grunted, firmly. "He can take care of himself."

I could hear that he was trying to convince himself as much as me.

"Come on," he ordered, and I followed him, sprinting toward his ship — no sign of the kid. "Dank Farrik," he cussed to himself.

"There!" I pointed, and he followed my gaze to the kid, perched on a crate, looking around with a worried expression.

"Stay here," the Mandalorian said, and took off toward him.

Stay here, I thought, and rolled my eyes. Yeah, right.

I looked back at the rancor, which was now surrounded by men tossing ropes up, trying to wrangle it to no avail. The Mandalorian was trying to get through the crowd and mess of zooming speeders to the kid, but was having trouble. With another piercing roar, the rancor erupted, flaying its arms out to swat away its suppressors. Filled with a fresh burst of rage, it began barreling forward — straight toward the kid.

I ran forward and clambered up on a shipping container. From there, I could hop from crate to crate, coming to a place almost directly in between the beast and the kid. It roared past me. Force save my little broken body, I thought to myself, and leapt, just barely grasping it's back and head. It skidded to a halt, right in front of the wincing kid, and directed its attention to it's newest annoyance — me, hanging around it's neck and trying to scrabble my feet onto it's back. It bucked and spasmed, trying to shake me off. I held on for dear life, trying to figure out what to do next. With a mighty throw of it's head, I flew off, crashing into a crate and rolling on the ground. Ow.

Fearfully, I looked back over at the massive beast that was about to bring its mighty fists down on the crate in front of it — and the kid. Suddenly, the little one stretched it's tiny green hand out and closed it's eyes, and within seconds, the rancor flew backward, careening into a ship and landing with a disconcerting WHACK on the pavement. That seemed to do it. A group of people approached the heaped body — it was definitely knocked out now. They began roping it up again with alacrity.

I heaved a massive sigh of relief and staggered to my feet. My body was in shock. I could tell that the whole left side of my body was going to be bruised tomorrow, but nothing seemed to be broken, and thankfully my head was bump-free.

The Mandalorian grabbed the kid off the crate, checking in with him, examining for any injury or sign of distress. I approached them.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine," the Mandalorian said, relieved.

"You weren't kidding, huh," I panted. "When you said he could take care of himself."

He chuckled.

"Yeah, he's pretty good with these kinds of situations."

I looked at the kid — gone was the worried look in his eye. He looked quite content being held by the Mandalorian, and was babbling happily again.

"Hi, little friend," I said softly. He turned his wide eyes to me and reached out a little hand. I looked to the Mandalorian for permission, which he granted with a small nod. I held my hand out to the child, and he wrapped his little hand around one of my fingers. He beamed at me, and my heart filled with a warmth I hadn't felt in years. I chuckled, and swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn't want these strangers to see that my eyes were brimming.

"You put yourself in danger to protect him," the Mandalorian said. I looked up at him. He swallowed and shifted his weight — he, too, seemed to be a little uncomfortable with showing his emotion. "Thank you."

"I don't think he needed it," I laughed.

"Still." His voice was sincere and steady. "You did it. Thank you."

The corners of my lips curled in a tentative smile.

"Any time."

I looked back at the child and played a gentle little tug-of-war with my finger, casting him a playful grin.

"What brought you back to the port?" The Mandalorian asked. "You need another ride?"

"Actually, yes," I said. I gently took my hand away from the child, who burbled with disappointment. "It turns out this isn't the place for me. I wasn't coming to find you, though—" I assured. "I was just going to find a new lift."

"Clearly this isn't the place for you," he said, the tiniest glimmer of amusement in his voice, and gestured around at the mess. "Twenty minutes here and look."

"I didn't do this!" I protested, laughing incredulously. "I could say the same about you! Wait... are you leaving already, too? You just got here."

"We're leaving." He sighed, annoyed. "The lead was useless. Do you want a lift?"

I looked up at him, uncertain.

"As a thank you," he continued, soberly. "For your act of bravery."

"Please," I said, after a beat of thought. "Thank you."

We walked back over to his ship, slowly. On the way, the Mandalorian stooped down and picked up the dented bassinet off the ground. When we arrived at the ship, though, we saw a massive dent crumpling the side.

"Dank Farrik!" He cursed. I nodded, echoing the sentiment.

Dank Farrik indeed.