She must have fallen asleep. She didn't remember falling asleep.
When she wakes, she finds herself curled around the Child's small cradle on a slab of metal behind the Mandalorian. Jawa shouts echo in her ears. Instead of moving, she simply lets one of her hands dangle into the cradle and readjusts, her eyes still closed shut. She has a sneaking suspicion that the Mandalorian knows she's awake.
"They really don't like you for some reason," the Ugnaught says.
"Well, I did disintegrate a few of them."
Ugh, that robotic voice is starting to get on her nerves.
"You need to drop your rifle."
Now, Alora might be getting a bit worried. She cracks an eyelid open to glance at the Mandalorian's back. If she wanted to, she could reach out and grab his blaster easily, maybe even snag the weapons he took from her.
"I'm a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion."
"Then you are not getting your parts back."
Alora sits up loud enough for the Mandalorian to look back. She knows he is watching her closely as she surveys the chattering Jawas and their ship, watching them scatter and regroup around them.
"Fine," he sighs, setting his rifle down. "Don't touch it," he warns.
She holds her hands up mockingly before pointing to the blaster at his hip.
"And the blaster."
A laugh bubbles in her chest, hoping that the Mandalorian would put up a fight.
Unfortunately, he simply puts the blaster down and goes after the Ugnaught to trade with the raiders. Alora watches them closely, swinging her legs over the vehicle and swinging them side to side before taking the Child and placing him in her lap. He too watches the Mandalorian closely, and she can't help but wonder why.
She gasps when fire erupts from the Mandalorian's arm. That is a surprise; she didn't know he has a flamethrower attached to him. Good to know. With a sneer and a shake of her head, she bounces the restless Child on her knee, eliciting a sharp giggle from him.
That is until two Jawa approach curiously. She snarls, whipping the Child back, her fingers tingling at her sides, ready for blood.
"Get away from them!" The Mandalorian shouts.
Something in Alora's blood stirs at the tone. She is usually the one with that spitting, horrid voice. The one that terrifies any normal creature from here to the outer rim. The tone that implies care.
Then again, he might just want his bounties kept safe.
Before long, the Jawas start to chant, never-ending and growing in volume. Alora crinkles her face when they start to move to the beat of the chant: "The egg! The egg! The egg!" The whole Jawa tribe guides them through the valley, escorting Alora and the Child along with the Mandalorian and the Ugnaught onto their vehicle. Alora may be used to cramped spaces, but this is a bit much; she keeps a tight hand on the rim of the Child's cradle.
This better be a really important egg.
Alora forces the Mandalorian to take her as well, ignoring his warnings and threats by simply walking with the cradle. She does not care what he says; the Child isn't going anywhere without her.
The three of them walk together to the coordinates they received from the Jawas only to find a deep, dark cave. She and Child stay back as The Mandalorian inspects the opening, adjusting his weapons methodically.
A small whine echoes from the cave.
Alora's knuckles go white as she tugs the cradle back, ignoring the small cry from the Child as The Mandalorian walks into the darkness. It doesn't take long for Alora to feel something shift in the air.
The Mandalorian's blaster goes off before he is thrown from the depths of the cave at Alora's feet. Before he can get up, she kicks the Child's cradle away and kneels down, retrieving her stolen knife. Instead of stabbing him as she probably should, she takes a step in front of him, the knife held as ready as possible, despite the cuffs rubbing against her wrists.
Alora watches as a large mudhorn slinks out of the cave, its roar soaring into the air as the Mandalorian reloads his blaster. He curses when he realizes it's stuck, but even Alora could have guessed given the amount of mud covering them.
She jumps out of the way just in time to avoid the mudhorn's charge. The Mandalorian is not so lucky.
Her heart stops in her chest when she sees the creature rush at the Child. Thoughts—strategies—run through her mind: none would save him in time, especially with someone else watching.
A sharp noise draws her attention to the fallen warrior as he tugs the Child out of the way with a hook. The mudhorn slams into the back wall as the Child coos nervously, his eyes darting between Alora and the Mandalorian.
The creature charges at the Mandalorian, an enraged snarl erupting from its maw. Alora knows she might regret this, but she jumps onto the mudhorn, her knife slicing into its rough skin just as the Mandalorian unleashes his flamethrower.
She can feel the heat from the flames against her skin as she grips the creature between her knees, Soon enough, it rears back, the Mandalorian's hook in its face. Alora manages to hold on as it drags the warrior behind it before throwing the Mandalorian away. It bucks and roars, but Alora's knife stays buried in its back, never wavering and never moving, even as it tosses the Mandalorian away once more.
Until she catches a glimpse of the terrified Child.
Alora goes flying through the air, the knife lost as she tumbles around in the mud and lands just beside the Mandalorian, now holding his own knife at the ready. She grits her teeth to stop a shout of pain from escaping as her vision blurs. The mudhorn roars, its footsteps getting closer and closer until...nothing.
When her vision begins to clear, Alora looks up to find the creature floating in the air, bellowing in fear and confusion.
Alora's own fear begins to rise. She must get to the Child. She must protect the Child from harm. Managing to rise to her feet, she steps in front of the cradle as the Mandalorian chances a look at them.
The Mandalorian is trained enough to know what she is feeling. If he does not recognize it, he's a sorry excuse for a warrior in Alora's book.
The moment does not last long as a tired squeak escapes the Child. The Mandalorian moves fast, sticking his long knife in the side of the creature's face, slaying it almost instantly. Alora stays by the cradle, frantically watching the tired, passed-out Child.
It takes her longer than she would admit to realize that the Mandalorian is satisfied with his kill and watching them. She stands between him and the Child, an unshakable barrier that would not bend to the Child's will this time. If the warrior hurts a single hair on his green head, Alora will kill him.
"I'll get the egg," the Mandalorian says, and he disappears into the cave.
✦✧✦✧✦
The girl has proven as adept with a wrench as she is with a knife. All night, the three of them worked on the Razor Crest, and now, thankfully, Mando's ship is fully operational. They could finally get off this dreadful planet and close this dangerous chapter.
Watching from the hull of his ship, Mando narrows his eyes as the girl takes the Ugnaught's hands into her own with a soft smile on her lips. She sends the Ugnaught a nod before she leaves him, making her way up to the hull. Stopping in front of him, she waits, her eyes set on the back wall.
"Take the kid to the cockpit. I'll be there in a moment."
Surprisingly, she complies.
He sighs in relief as the Ugnaught makes his way up to him. "I can't thank you enough," he says. "Please, allow me to give you a portion of the reward."
"I cannot accept," the Ugnaught replies. "You are my guest, and I am, therefore, in your service."
"I could use a crew member of your ability, and I can pay handsomely." Truth be told, Mando likes having the Ugnaught to talk to. He is wise and understanding, always choosing his words wisely. Most of Mando's recent bounties have been easy, boring, and ramblers. He would be a nice change.
"I am honored, but I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude."
"I understand. Then, all I can offer is my thanks."
The Ugnaught nods. "And I offer mine. Thank you for bringing peace to my valley." As he descends from the ship, Mando can't help but feel saddened. He may never want to return to this planet, but it had certainly been interesting. A bounty he will never forget. "Good luck with the child and the girl," the Ugnaught says once settled on his stead. "May they survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken."
As Mando nods, there is a part of him that recoils. He almost forgot he had to turn the two in to the Empire, or what's left of it.
Mando slowly makes his way to the cockpit, settling in his chair. He notices that the girl has set the Child who is still asleep on her lap, both strapped in tightly as Mando starts the ship and eventually flies into space.
The vastness of space is a blessing and a curse. Mando often finds himself thinking too much as he flies past star systems and planets he's never visited; now, he can't stop reliving that horrible moment. He had accepted his death, but the Child saved him. And the girl feared him.
The girl can hold her own. Her resistance and strength with the mudhorn was something to admire, but any warrior worth their creed knows what fear looks like. Not once had she been scared—not once had she looked at him with anything other than a predatory gaze. But she had been afraid. Not for her, he realizes. For the Child.
"Still asleep?" He asks, looking back.
She nods as she tilts her head down.
"You could've run, but you didn't. Why?"
Her gaze flickers up. Those eyes are like his: haunted, broken, war-ridden. She looks down at the Child again as if it were an answer.
"Did you lose the ability to speak?"
She does not move.
Annoyance flares in his gut. He never tries to talk to his bounties, so why start now? Turning back to the front, he stares out at the open space in front of him.
After a while, he notices a shift in the air. Looking back, he sees the girl, her head resting back on the chair with her eyes closed and lips slightly parted. The Child lies awake in her arms, snuggling into her chest with a coo so soft, the helmet muffles it.
Something pangs in his chest, a feeling he can't remember ever identifying before. Unfortunately, nothing can change their destination. Not the Child's eyes, full of innocence and mischief. Not the girl's soft snores that barely make noise—they simply sound like quiet sighs. And not the feeling blooming in Mando's once frozen heart.
He will turn them over and return all that stolen beskar to the Mandalorians. This is the Way.
✦✧✦✧✦
Hehe. I love the actress I picked for Alora. I think I nailed the vibe :)
Hope you enjoyed!
-L