Cataclysm ─── The Mandalorian. ¹

xxxvii. fear is a deadly weapon

            Zoya fires up at its feet, hoping to force it to drop the Trandoshen, but it vanishes into the smoke too quickly. A fraction of a second later, one of the winged demons drops onto the back of a Blurrg, the beast wailing in pain.

            "Drop her!" Kuiil yells.

            Cara's blaster fire rockets into the screeching creature's chest, and it plummets to the ground on top of the Blurrg with scorching holes in its sternum, both dead.

            "Nice one," Zoya says breathily, clapping a hand onto Cara's shoulder.

            "Thanks," she huffs. "Didn't save the damned Blurrg, though—"

            Din's choked yell sounds from behind them, and the two women whirl. One of the demons slams him to the ground, shoving him through the dirt. Zoya jumps towards him immediately, a cry ripping from her lungs that doesn't sound like it could have come from her mouth, her words from mere seconds ago echoing through her mind.

            I don't want to die.

            I don't want to die.

            I don't want Din to die.

            Zoya and Cara explode forward in unison, leveling their weapons at the creature as it scrapes Din against the ground. And though panic bubbles in Zoya's chest, crowding her throat, leaving no room for oxygen, she should have known that the Mandalorian could take care of himself—it's what he's always done.

            Din's on his feet in an instant, fire spilling from the flamethrower on his right wrist, bathing the creature in sweltering, red-orange light. Wailing, it flaps its enormous wings, body on fire as it ascends into the smoke, its brethren not far behind. Bolts continue to puncture the darkness until they're completely gone.

            Warily, they crowd around the child's cradle, watching the sky for another strike. But none comes. Zoya finds that all she wants to do is sink to the dust, body weak and trembling, but she turns to Din, chest rising and falling faster than it should, fear still snatching the breath from her lungs before she can exhale.

            The sight of Din on the ground, pinned by the screeching beast, inches from death, had rattled her more than it should. She swallows, turning away from the group to press her fingers to her chest, trying to get in a deep breath that might help dry her eyes.

            A hand lands on her shoulder, gloved and steady and warm, and a tear spills over, cutting through the dust that clings to her cheek. Din applies gentle pressure to her shoulder, pulling her around to face him. Zoya doesn't erase the tear from her face, though it leaves her feeling vulnerable as she looks up at him, lips trembling. His hand cups her cheek.

            "What's wrong?" His voice is tense. "Are you hurt?"

            She shakes her head.

            "Then what—"

            Zoya pushes forward into his chest, wrapping her arms as tightly around him as she can, squeezing her eyes shut. Taken aback, it takes Din a moment to reciprocate the gesture, but when he does, she feels as if she can almost hear his heartbeat through the Beskar, like a beacon calling her home.

            "I thought you were—" Zoya chokes on the words, unable to complete her sentence, anguish rising again within her just at the thought. The Beskar becomes slick beneath her cheek.

            "I'm right here." Din's hand smooths over the back of her head, and beneath the helmet he grits his teeth together. He'd never expected to see her cry again, not since that night on Tatooine, where he'd held her underneath the galaxy and felt as if the stars were draped around them, sparkling like crystals in the air. "I'm okay."