Chapter Twenty-Seven: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓.
word count; 5.0k
"What was that?"
"What was what?!" you snapped. Adrenaline still tracked itself intensely throughout your entire body, a fierce and hostile wrath reigning over your actions and emotions, contorting your face underneath your mask into an aggrieved glare. With you one big, raging step ahead of Cobb Vanth who strives to pursue you, you approached the small-scale fire the group was previously camping at—although what with all the commotion from five minutes ago, everyone had disappeared from it.
"That back there!" Cobb raised an emerald beskar-clad arm, towards the direction in which that pestering fight occurred. It was evident that he was dominated by his own slice of annoyance and exasperation as well, considering you hadn't even offered the slightest bit of information for him other than don't say my name in front of Mando and I need to get away from him as soon as possible. But that was nothing compared to the fury fuming within your heaving chest. "You know what I mean— do you know each other?"
"Obviously!" You continued down the course that led to your campfire, weaving swiftly through the several tents set up by the Tuskens. You released an irritated groan, fingers curling up and forming a strictly clenched fist as you attempted to suppress the anger threatening to escape from within you. "Why else would I have wanted to leave so quickly?! Cobb, this is exactly why I didn't want to come—"
A scoff was audible from behind you. "Maybe if you'd bothered to fill me in on the situation, I would've—"
"That's none of your damn business, alright?" you barked, whirling around to face him—though the visor of your dark-colored mask prevented true eye contact with the chocolate hues in his eyes. You urged yourself to wind down a bit in fear of awaking the remaining Tuskens any further. Disgruntled grunts were already discernible, indicating you'd annoyed quite a few of them—and so you gradually lowered your voice. "We had a past I'd prefer not to talk about. It's nothing of your concern."
A sigh escaped from Cobb's lips. "What were you doing all the way over there, then? Why did you disappear?"
"I left to escape from all that arguing—it was ticking me off!" You set a hand on your hip, leaning your weight onto one leg. "Apparently, I couldn't escape from that... Plus, I had to drink that— that stinky melon thing. I didn't need Mando seeing my face... looks like I couldn't avoid that either." You let out a vexed puff of breath, shaking your head as your mind raced and struggle to provide yourself a solution to all this. Then, "I'm heading back to town. I need to leave."
"No, we need your help with the Krayt dragon," Cobb instantly denied the idea, clearly disliking it. "I need your help. You know I don't wanna do this alone with Mando."
"Well, I also happen to hate Mando! I know you don't understand, but I need to get as far away from him as possible. I'm sure that, with the help of the Tuskens, you guys won't even need my assistance."
"I thought you were gonna rest here for a few months..." With his gaze trained steadily on you keeping your attention, you had a gut feeling he was going to attempt to guilt-trip you as he'd previously done to convince you into joining this mission (and, unluckily for you, it had successfully worked... because how could you resist him when he looked at you with those eyes?) Then, "...with me?"
"That was the plan," your prominently distorted voice softened. You gnawed at your cheek with your teeth to remind yourself you urgently needed to go, no matter what Cobb said. "But things have changed. My top priority tight now is finding a Jedi and you know that—I've told you a million times. Maybe once I've done so—and when Mando's gone—I can come back and visit again, but... Sorry. I have to leave."
"...but I need you."
"No, I need to go—"
"At least until we're done and over with the drago—"
"No—" you spun around as quickly as you could to escape from his attempt in persuading you, heading straight towards the speeders' direction instead. "No. Cobb, you're not doing this alone, you've got the Tuskens and Mando to help you. You don't need me."
A warm hand enveloped itself around your palm, calloused fingers entwining with your own, causing you to freeze in your tracks and once again turn to look into those honey eyes. "Please?"
"Vanth! You—" a groan escaped your lips, your digits tightening around his. "Ugh! Fine."
If there was something you figured out these recent months, it was this: you were a sucker for bucketheads.
(Sometimes, you despised the fact—other times, it wasn't so bad."
"But don't expect me to stay much longer afterwards, alright?"
"Not to worry—I'll keep Mando away from you."
An inevitable grin snuck onto your lips. "Yeah, I'm sure you can keep Mando away but will you be able to keep the kid away from me? I doubt it."
"What, you hate the baby, too?"
"No, of course not," you replied, gaze slowly dropping. "I just don't need him bothering me..."
Correction: you don't need him getting in the way of yourself desperately trying not to attach yourself to him again.
And ever since he'd reappeared back on Mos Pelgo, that easily became gruesome to avoid. Those large dark eyes, long and pointy ears, cute little smiles and giggles—you missed him so damn much, and there was nothing you could desire more than pick him up and hug him so close to you, never allow yourself to leave him again... That was highly improbable, though. And it had pained you to compel yourself to push him away yet again, when you initially believed you would never have to do such a thing again. Turns out that conclusion was extremely erroneous.
"I'm going to sleep," you finally spoke up after a moment of losing yourself in your asphyxiating thoughts. You approached the fire that was now a few feet away, before plopping yourself down besides the flickering flames, immersing yourself in the pleasant warmth it provided throughout the chilly desert night.
"Here? There's a tent left you can take over there."
"You take it. I'm fine here." You lifted your gaze when he hadn't inched away the slightest bit. "Go, I'm fine! I promise. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he whispered back, before reluctantly stepping away and heading towards his tent.
Your decision was to wait a short amount of time before truly deciding to fall asleep. Once everything seemed to calm down, the Tuskens were returning to the security of their tents, and a certain Mandalorian was out of sight, you slid your hood back down and removed your mask for the final time tonight. Now that your vision was clearer and lacking the usual dark tint of a thin visor, you set the object down besides you (making certain it was in reach this time). A couple of feet away from the fire—close enough to keep you warm throughout the night and far enough not to irritate or possibly burn you—you laid yourself down and shifted around to find a comfortable position. That proved to be quite onerous, given that you were laying on the ground with nothing other than your cloak to cover yourself with. Plus, your armor was making it increasingly intolerable and difficult to sleep with, though you wouldn't dare separate from it around here.
You had absolutely no clue what you were thinking back then by setting your mask down such a distance from you, but you certainly hadn't expected Din to start searching around for you like that—not to mention he had indirectly accused you of taking the Child away from him. All of this could've easily been avoided if you'd simply elected not to take a moment to rest from your suffocating mask straight after drinking that abhorrent milk within the black melon. You could've plainly dismissed the Mandalorian with a mere I don't know, your voice accompanied by deep distortion that would obscure your identity from him. That was why you couldn't bring yourself to reply, because he would've undoubtedly recognized your voice. But then, he did seem as if he were suspecting something, and may have tackled you either way. Still, your face wouldn't have been risked...
If your covering hadn't been so damn asphyxiating underneath Tatooine's strangulating climate, you wouldn't have had ever removed it in the first place. The mask had been hiding away your features ever since you'd caught that flash of a glimpse of the undeniably familiar silver beskar-clad man mounted on a speeder bike, leisurely driving deeper into the city. As soon as you'd seen him, you couldn't help but panic and rush over to the temporary living home you shared alongside Cobb Vanth. You remembered it painfully clear—one second, you're speaking to one of your fellow companions from Mos Pelgo, and the other, you're rushing inside, frantically preparing yourself with your entire set outfit: armor, cloak, and mask, before immediately heading out to investigate the situation.
Your primary trepidation was that he'd returned for you, had somehow pinpointed your exact location to meet with you. You feared he'd regretted his decision, that perhaps he'd wished to apologize.
To which you wouldn't have forgiven him, considering all he'd done to you...
Luckily, that wasn't the case, and your shrouded uniform server you well... momentarily. As soon as you learned that the Mandalorian had solely arrived for Cobb's armor, you could sigh a breath of well-needed alleviation. Sorta. Until that fight minutes ago.
With your back facing the fire behind you, and your eyes still wide open, lacking your usual tiredness, you released a sigh. You pulled your cloak tighter around your figure, strengthening your hold around it to conserve your body heat. It was quite tedious how rapidly the temperatures altered in the deserts—but at least you weren't melting underneath the scorching binary suns.
If only you'd continued bounty hunting whilst simultaneously pursing a Jedi instead of coming here for a few months' rest. Hunting had, after all, provided you with everything you could ever need and desire. With Greef Karga promising that your Guild rates would increase drastically, that had encouraged you to return to bounty hunting, even though you weren't exactly feeling your best after everything that had occurred... At least you earned additional credits—more than you ever had in the past cycles you'd been a member of the Bounty Hunter's Guild.
That allowed you to purchase your outfit from an exorbitant emporium located on a bustling industrial planet overpopulated by excessively monumental cities. The scarlet cloak in particular was the one that had instantly caught your eye—it's silky softness seemed pleasant to wear, and considering its dark color, plus the hood, it practically screamed that you were a dangerous bounty hunter, an elite member of the Guild at that, and combated with heightened skills. Then, there was the mask that you'd purchased. It was actually a broken and fragmented Stormtrooper mask, which you had decided to reconstruct, fix, and refine to your own liking (the visor had been the most difficult part of rebuilding it). The armor was the most costly of everything you'd bought that day, but it was damn worth it. Not only did it come equipped with jet rockets in the calf armor that could assist you in gliding and ultimately saving your life in case you fell from high altitudes, but its manufacturer stated that it was formulated by Zillo beast scales.
You hadn't believed that at first. But the industrialist had allowed you to test it out, and everything checked out. The tawny plates of armor deflected literally anything that attacked it—blaster bolts, blades, a variety of weapons, and if you still had access to your lightsaber, you would've definitely experimented with it. You'd immediately bought the armor, and so far, it had saved your life several times. That, along with the cloak and mask, had also helped you conceal yourself from the entire galaxy, given that now the grand majority of the people surrounding you recognized you as a Jedi.
If only they knew of the things you'd done in your past, of the ways you'd utilized the Force in such abhorrent ways, of how you couldn't possibly deserve to be known as a Jedi.
Setting all that stuff aside, the credits you acquired through hunting was sufficient to allow yourself a well-deserved vacation here, to an isolated city you'd heard rumors about. Sure, it wasn't the best planet... Sorgan and Nata had crossed your mind, but— well, stuff happened over there.
Stuff you'd prefer to forget rather than remember every waking minute of your life.
So, Mos Pelgo seemed like the most desirable option at the time. Yeah, there was the unbearable heat, endless dunes of sand, a variety of dangerous people around... but then you bumped into Cobb Vanth. You'd actually met him cycles previously, and it was definitely a surprise (a pleasant surprise at that) to to encounter yourself with him again. Occasionally, you'd return to Mos Pelgo to visit the city's Marshal, stay for a month or two, then go back to hunting... This particular occasion, however, was shortened and not exactly well-lived. And—
"Patoo."
You had never bolted up right so quickly in your entire life.
Your heart had nearly jolted right out of your chest as you whirl around on the ground to face the Child across the other wide of the fire. Your gaze landed on his petite figure, pointy ears perking up upon realizing your face was entirely exposed and he could finally see you instead of the mask. He'd known the whole time it was you underneath all those layers of cloth and armor. It was completely understandable—he'd clearly felt your familiar Force presence, sensing that you were the enigma that Mando couldn't fathom. His little mouth quirked up into a smile, flashing those cute baby teeth that absolutely melted you. You released a breathy giggle for a second, before widening your eyes as he started his way towards you ecstatically, lifting his claws towards you.
"No, kid, you need to go back to Mando, alright?" You shook your head, trying your best to refuse him. But when he'd climbed up onto your lap, you couldn't help but freeze, unknowing what you should even do. You needed to return him to Mando, but... you didn't really feel like confronting him right now. "You can't be here. Go back."
You attempted to lift him with no avail, the effort ending up with him struggling against your hands, whining and protesting, until you eventually slumped your shoulders as a puff of frustrated breath escaped your lips. As soon as you'd set your hands aside, the Child recognized you'd given in and snuggled nearer to your body, finding comfort and contentment curled up into a ball close to your abdomen. A strict claw clutched onto your vermillion cloak, gripping so firmly, as if he could be abruptly separated from you any second now. You couldn't help but tense up, recognizing the consequences of what this could lead to—attachment.
And you couldn't allow that.
Not again.
Not after everything that happened...
"I need to take you back," you whispered, although your low and hardly audible voice evidently hadn't helped with keeping the infant awake. He hadn't answered or even moved the slightest bit, merely continuing to grasp onto the silky red fabric. Saltwater brimmed the lining of your eyes, beginning to irritate and blur your vision—but you couldn't permit them to fall, and you wouldn't. All you could possibly do right now is hope the Child would come to his senses (though you highly doubted persuading him into returning to Din was even possible. Not after all the time he'd gone without seeing you). "Mando's probably looking for you..."
The Child, per usual, refused to listen to you. That left you with no other option than to wait, until he fell asleep. To which then you could then, reluctantly, go searching for Mando and hand over his kid.
You could still manage to recognize when the Child truly was lost in his dreams, recalling those restless rotations spent alongside the Mandalorian, putting in your utmost efforts to get the relentless infant to fall asleep. All the kid had wanted to do was play, play, eat, and play—time for sleep was not on his schedule. Of course, he'd solely dozed off when it wasn't exactly the time you needed him to (like that wretched day you and Din partnered with that pestering group to rescue a prisoner, resulting in a betrayal). For now, though, you knew the Child was still awake, with his rapid breaths and the unyielding clasp on your cloak. Although you couldn't quite watch his expression since he was in a coiled position, you had a feeling his eyes were shut closed and he was nearly sleeping already.
As much as you despised these memories recently returning to your exhausted brain... the initial few rotations lacking his company were absolute hell.
You'd spent what felt like cycles, an everlasting eternity, constantly thinking about him, constantly worrying over him, constantly wondering whether Din were caring for him properly, constantly curious whether the baby had been affected by your unexpected departure. Eventually, you'd come to the conclusion that overthinking was not beneficial for you, what with your return to bounty hunting that required the grand majority of your thoughts and attention, plus your new mission to seek a Jedi. You found yourself, as strenuous and demanding as it was, compelling yourself to completely forget the Child and neglect the fact that you loved the little womp rat. Your protection was no longer required, Din had made that crystal-clear... Originally, you hadn't understood why Din had ordered you to leave in such an unanticipated manner (especially given that you'd recently almost died, and spent the entire remainder of that fight with painfully broken ribs and a rather traumatized head), and honestly, you still couldn't comprehend the true purpose of that. But what you did recognize was, it was for the best.
At least now you had all these credits and expensive belongings and new weapons...
That didn't do much against the fact that you still weren't happy.
When you'd forcefully drawn yourself out of your thoughts, you couldn't help the grin sneaking onto your lips. Your gaze dropped again, listening as soft snores escaped the Child's mouth and realizing his claws not quite clutching onto the scarlet material as strictly as before. The previous tears edging your eyes had disappeared long ago, yet they'd managed to sneakily form and well up once more...
You'd missed this. You missed keeping the Child safe within your arms, fast asleep, with absolutely no concern (other than the bounty hunters relentlessly hot on your tails), when you'd spend the lazy days within the Razor Crest, traveling securely through hyperspace, and you and Din would spend the day indulging in unimportant small talk whilst momentarily playing games to keep the Child entertained. You longed for the sorta serene times before Greef Karga had offered Din that proposition, before you'd insulted Din with those unkind and hurtful words, before you nearly left the Child lacking his sole two protectors.
As crucial and complicated your circumstances seemed back then, they were surprisingly simple compared to the present.
And to top this glorious night off, the familiar figure of Din Djarin was approaching from the distance. You figured he'd eventually bump into you after searching the entire camp for the Child, even though he evidently seemed to be wanting to avoid you as much as you did. Sucking in a sharp breath, you mentally prepared yourself to camouflage the disarray of emotions swirling wildly within you in this very moment. Hesitantly, you stood and walked towards the Mandalorian who was already making his way towards your direction.
The both of you had halted in front of each other, and for what felt like forever, an intolerable silence stretched endlessly between you two. The repulsive discomfort was utterly insufferable and aggravating altogether, even more considering that particularly painful fight, plus the fact that you were currently deficient of your mask and your hood no longer concealed a portion of your face. Tension enveloped the ambience without ceasing nor straying away as you merely gazed into that dark visor—the damned visor you had convinced yourself that you'd never have the chance to see again.
"He was... He came looking for me," you muttered, precisely loud enough for him to hear. The Child sleeping in your arms remained still and unmoving, immersed in a deep sleep now. You outstretched your hands, leaning forward a bit to offer him the infant.
"Thank you..." Swiftly and carefully, you'd exchanged the Child into the Mandalorian's grasp instead. The gentle brush of his orange gloved fingers inevitably returned specific memories to your mind, and in a split second, it was gone. The Child had been taken away from your warm embrace, leaving you feeling bitterly cold.
"Goodnight," was all you could muster afterwards, wishing for this pestering situation to vanish already. Din nodded, once, whispering a hardly audible goodnight before quickly spinning around to split ways with the Child snug and tucked into one of his arms.
You watched as he stepped away, the beskar shining spectacularly underneath the moonlit sky and prominent amongst the tan-colored tents and plain surroundings, before he was ultimately out of your line of vision. Then, you settled yourself down again, this time hoping you could catch a bit of slumber—which didn't seem very plausible... not tonight.
↯
"They say it lives in there."
After Din's statement, you eyed the colossal cavern gracing the mountainous rocks up ahead, hoping to catch the slightest bit of the Krayt dragon that caused so much destruction and frustration. Your group comprised of you, the Marshal, the Mandalorian, the Child, and several Tuskens alongside their banthas—a rather strange band of people you might add. While the Sand People traveled on their mammoth-sized mammalian beasts, you and the rest trekked through the Dune Sea on your speeder bikes. Currently, you were high up on the ledge of a mountain, peering down below towards the pitch-black cave.
As soon as you'd arrived at your destination, you couldn't help but shiver. The cavity in the mountains extended deep within the tawny rocks, almost like an endless abyss of utter darkness—which only brought Mudhorn flashbacks to mind.
Except the Mudhorn, as monstrous and frightening as it had seemed back then, was nothing compared to the Krayt.
"They say it sleeps," Din translated each and every word the chieftain spoke. The Mandalorian borrowed a pair of binoculars one of the Tuskens had come equipped with—a familiar set of binocs, and you knew exactly why... Then, "It lives in an abandoned sarlacc pit."
Cobb Vanth nearly scoffed. "Lived on Tatooine my whole life. There's no such thing as an abandoned sarlacc pit."
A wince appeared on your features, though your expression was concealed bu your mask, its thin visor directing itself towards Cobb. "Not unless you eat the sarlacc within."
It made absolute sense, actually. From what you'd seen (and you hadn't had the chance to see much, that dragon was unfathomably enormous, not to mention tremendously dangerous and hazardous if agitated. If it was capable of tearing straight through civilization and thick sand dunes, then that monster needed to be taken care of and quick. Or else soon enough, Mos Pelgo would suffer even worse consequences, and truly be wiped off the surface of Tatooine.
"What's with the bantha?" you questioned, watching as a Tusken down below approached the Krayt's den whilst leading a furry, horned creature. With you being side-by-side with Din and Cobb, practically sandwiched in the middle, you would admit (though not out loud) that you were rather... uncomfortable. But your question was an attempt to rid your brain of the tension between you and the Mandalorian, no matter how difficult and improbable that proved to be. If you at least tried to get along with the man, perhaps the whole mission would be smoother, although your patience wears thin with these type of things.
Din had returned the binoculars back to its rightful owners. Then, "They're laying out a bantha to protect the settlement. They've studied its digestion cycle for generations. They feed the dragon to make it sleep longer." The Mandalorian paused, everyone watching as the pair below halted in front of the dark cavern. "Watch, the dragon will appear."
Within a split second, the Tusken raised both its gloved hands, cupping the area of his mask where his mouth was supposed to be, before releasing a deep, reverberating bellow. The cry echoed throughout the entire cavity, unquestionably awaking the perilous beast within it. The Child had appeared besides you, now peering over the rocks and breathing out a gentle whimper, indicating the both of you were undergoing the exact feeling—the Force was warning you both that what was occurring below was highly life-threatening. A menacing growl was audible, emanating from within the cavern, causing the Tusken to whirl around and leave the bantha behind for the Krayt to devour.
You frowned underneath your mask. "Wait, but wouldn't the Krayt just—"
The dragon emerged from the cavity, opening its mouth wide and exposing its intimidating rows of keenly sharp teeth. But instead of taking advantage of the bulky and meatier meal that was initially designated for it, the beast had simply set the bantha aside and solely headed towards the Tusken who desperately attempted to rush away to salvage his own life. But next thing you knew, the Tusken was consumed whole by the Krayt dragon.
"—eat whatever is moving..."
A crackle in Din Djarin's voice modulator indicated a deep sigh. Then, "They might be open to some fresh ideas."
↯
"What are the bones?"
"That's the Krayt dragon."
"And those little pebbles?" You join in.
"...that's us."
You stare into Din's visor with disbelief etched all over your obscured face. Apparently, Cobb couldn't believe his statement either, "That's not to scale."
"I think it is."
"Can't be. That's too big."
The Tuskens alongside your group were congregated, inspecting the miniature layout which provided you with a better understanding for the plan—all thanks to the helpful Tuskens. Tiny grey rocks were set around a larger-scaled skeleton of some unknown dead creature. Your 'team' were ants compared to the 'Krayt dragon,' which only added to your trepidation. You despised dealing with these type of monstrous creatures, and it seems the dry desert planets have the worst of them... You hoped it weren't to scale, because it'd be nearly impossible to—
"It's to scale," Din confirmed after exchanging a brief question with the Sand People.
"I've only seen its head and neck," Vanth stated. "It's bigger'n I guessed."
"This is crazy... Cobb—" you called for your partner, catching his attention immediately. You shook your head with evident refusal. "We can't do this."
"Yeah," he agreed, glancing over to Din. "I'm thinkin' maybe we need to rethink our arrangement."
Din spoke to the Tuskens again, and within a few seconds, there were additional pebbles accompanying the original 'combatants.' Apparently, gaining this beskar was much more important to him than you initially imagined.
"That's more like it," Cobb commented. "Where are they getting reinforcements?"
"I volunteered your village."
That mere sentence was sufficient to cause that all-too-familiar wrath to swell up within your chest again, already beginning to dominate your emotions and actions. Your fists clenched tightly together, gaze snapping towards the Mandalorian, meeting him visor-to-visor with a stance that radiated nothing other than your anger. "What— Are you out of your mind? You're gonna bring them into a fight against a monster over ten-times their size?"
"It's their town," Din reasoned, per usual remaining calmer than you—temporarily. Although his irritation with the subject was already beginning to show in his modulated voice. "It only makes sense that they fight for their own city, too."
"I know, but you've seen the size of that thing!" You barked, a hand gesturing towards the model plan on the ground.
"All the better reason to recruit more people!"
"We're not doing this," you ordered, a tone of finality in your voice as you took a step closer.
"We did it on Sorgan," Din argued with his voice already beginning to raise to match with yours. "Don't you think they'll want to fight against the creature that's been pestering them for years?"
"That was a completely different situation, Mando! We're going against a kriffing monster here, not a group of raiders! We can't put their lives at risk for this!"
"Their lives already are at risk—"
"Okay, okay!" A new voice, dripping with an accent joined in and paused the argument in the nick of time. Several Tuskens nearby were already beginning to become aggravated with the constant disputes and yelling. Cobb continued as his eyes landed on you, "Now I'm sure the citizens of Mos Pelgo will oblige if it means we'll rid of the Krayt. We need all the help we can get."
So now he's on his side. Your chest heaved with a conspicuously heavy sigh, crossing your arms across your armored chest. You shook your head, wholeheartedly denying and disapproving the idea—but it seemed the two weren't going to change their minds. And they had reason not to—Cobb was hell-bent on destroying this pest once and for all, and Din was confident that he'd retrieve the armor that rightfully belonged with the Mandalorians. Your sole desire now was to leave this wretched planet, purchase transportation to a world a long distance from here, and never have to encounter the damned Mandalorian again. Another puff of breath escaped your lips, this time a sigh of utter defeat. "Fine. Let's get this over with already."