The Sweetest Taste

Chapter 45 - I was never yours to lose

Din had been to Nar Shaddaa more times than he could count.

It was a dark and dismal moon, and only the worst of the worst remained there long. The rest going for what they came for, and getting out as soon as they could.

Din had only been here perhaps an hour, and already he could feel the thick toxic smog settling over his lungs, despite having switched the seal on his helmet only ten minutes after arriving.

The tall Mandalorian stood now in a dingy little control room in the top of a tall black tower, which stood in the centre of the imports district, which welcomed thousands of shipments of all kinds of illegal goods a day. But Din was not here to cast judgement on how the criminals here made their money. Not today at least.

Right now Din was here for one thing and one thing alone.

"I shouldn't be doing this, y'know-" came the voice of an old acquaintance of Din's.

Ghonda was a Mon Calamari who certainly owed Din more than one favour for sparing his life almost a decade ago, and then again three years later. Din had heard that Ghonda was working here a while back, and yet now after all this time, much to Ghonda's surprise and dismay, Din needed to call in that favour.

"You owe me, Ghonda," said Din in a low voice. "I could have killed you all those years ago..."

He disengaged the safety on the blaster in his hand with an audible click.

"...and I still can."

Ghonda gave a visible gulp now, shaking his head. "Ok, ok, keep your beskar on, Mando. Let me just look see."

Din Djarin was not in the mood to be messed with. He feared he had already delayed too long in getting here and finding wherever Crix may have taken Lysa. And so, with urgent adrenaline pumping through his veins, Din felt twitchy and keen to get out there and start searching for her.

Ghonda, who worked in the imports and cargo control tower, tapped ferociously on the terminal before him, before pausing.

"Ok, I've only got three ships on our list that arrived from Nevarro in the last twelve hours," he said, sitting back a little in his seat, as Din leaned forward to look at them.

Placing his hands to the scroll button he looked at the ships one by one.

The first was a small modified gunner that Din knew would only have fitted a pilot inside, far too small for any men plus Lysa. And the second was a cargo vessel. This time too large to have fitted anywhere near to Jawa territory back on Naboo without being noticed by them.

But the third, which Din paused on, one hand on the dial, was a small-sized freight vessel. It was nothing special at all, but certainly large enough to fit several people inside.

"This one," said Din in a husky voice. "Do you know where it docked?"

Ghonda tapped the terminal again before he brought up a set of coordinates.

"It's a hanger bridge on the south-side of Nar Shaddaa," he said promptly. "I'll transfer them over to your wrist comm."

The strap on Din's wrist dinged a second later.

"So...we even then?" said Ghondu, swivelling in his chair and peering up at Mando.

But Din, eyeing the orange coordinate holo that streamed from his wrist, turned on his heel, not even giving Ghondu a final backwards glance.

"For now..." he murmured in a dark voice, as Ghonda gave a hard sigh, watching the Mandalorian as he left the control room.

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