Adrift [A Mandalorian Fanfiction]

The Barter

That night, they set out for the Jawas. Doc decided to come along, mostly out of curiosity. She had only had dealings with the Jawas once on Tattooine, and was keen to learn more about their species. She was also keen to see if they had any... supplies she might be interested in.

Kuiil hooked up a sled to the back of a bluurg that the Mandalorian, Doc, Nala, and the child all rode in. Nala had become especially curious about the small green child. As rain poured down on them – one of the few rains of the season – Nala's fur sparkled with live electricity.

"Should we be concerned about your sparking dog?" the Mandalorian asked, scooting ever so farther away. Thunder boomed in the distance accompanied by lightning lighting up the sky in patches.

"She just gets excited in storms," Doc said as the rain pounded against her gray cloak. "Nala, go on. Have your fun."

The hound kicked off the platform eagerly and disappeared into the night, sparks flying off her as she cornered a ridge.

The child was asleep in his container that Kuiil had outfitted for him, rain pinging against it in a cacophonous manner. It took them until morning of the next day to reach the site where the Jawas had set up an area to trade.

Kuiil gave them a hearth greeting, but the Jawas seemed apprehensive to the Mandalorian pointing his rifle at them.

"They really don't like you for some reason," Kuiil said.

"Well, I did disintegrate a few of them," the Mandalorian said.

"Real classy," said Doc. She looked up to see Jawas peeking out from the windows of their fortress, beady red eyes watching their every move.

One of the Jawas signaled with his gun.

"You need to drop your rifle," ordered Kuiil.

"I'm a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion."

"Then you're not getting your parts back."

The Mandalorian reluctantly set his rifle down with an annoyed fine. Doc swung out of the carriage, puffs of newly dried dirt fanning out. The Mandalorian closely followed her along with Kuiil to a neutral location. The Jawas stopped them again.

"Don't think they care for your blaster, either," said Doc. The Mandalorian gave her a look before throwing it into the back of their cart as well. The child looked at him eagerly, anticipating some kind of event happening.

Kuiil went ahead, speaking words of friendship before ushering them both over. Doc wasn't sure where to look – at the Jawas in front of her or those above her. The way their yellow eyes seemed to glower at them had always made her uneasy, but her curiosity was more potent than her fear.

They came to all sit together on a carpet the Jawas had spread. The Mandalorian and Doc took their places behind Kuiil.

"They will trade all the parts for the beskar," Kuiil translated. Doc knew how this was going to go down.

"I'm not going to trade anything. These are my parts – they stole them from me," said the Mandalorian. He tried to speak Jawa, but it was broken and unrefined, even to Doc's ears.

"You speak terrible Jawa," they teased in their language. "You sound like a Wookie."

"Oh yeah? You understand this?" The Mandalorian activated the flamethrower on his wrist, sending a stream of flames towards the Jawas who scrambled to get out of the way. Doc reacted quickly, grabbing his wrist and clicking off the activator button, but her hand grabbed too close to the flame and burned the skin.