CHAPTER 25
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EVENT OF CALAMITY!
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They're not here.
Mando's stomach recoils to defying heights, and his breathing stumbles as if his airway made the startling decision to close up. His grip on the reins secured to the dewback becomes more tense than ever before, his heart beating faster and stronger as the blood in his ears surges higher and higher than he ever thought possible, — but possible it is, just as it was possible for something terrible to happen in his absence, as it did. He watches with intense eyes as the dewback treks closer. The suns are high and above in the cloudless sky as if promising a splendid day, yet the day ahead of him couldn't have been farther from such an empty promise.
Mando reels the dewback in. His legs are pressed against the creature's sides, his overwhelming fright prompting him to dismount and look around while he runs to the sprawled body laid by a few rocks.
Mando knows for a fact that it's not Gaia. The outfit and the tied hair doesn't match her appearance in the slightest, but it absolutely does so of a certain high-valued assassin.
Fennec is dead.
Gaia is gone.
And Toro never fulfilled their bargain.
Mando must have searched the whole area for an hour or so, shouting Gaia's name until his voice may as well have turned raw, before having to accept the harsh truth. The truth being that Toro may have dealt his obscure hand and killed Fennec in cold blood, as well as taking Gaia hostage for his own sinister reasons. The possibility of another incident having occurred is very much there but also unlikely since the tracks spin an unforeseen tale in the shifting sand. A tale of two people, one standing superior and dragging the body of the other to a specific point right before it disappears, as if the perpetrator had hauled them onto a speeder bike and driven off.
Toro.
The name lingers on Mando's tongue like poison, his mind curling with the thought.
He can feel a hint of nausea in the back of his throat. Perhaps it's because his hands are shaking so badly and his stomach churns uncomfortably with the situation, or maybe it's because Toro — of all people — plucked away the person who has somehow become so important to him in the span of such a short time, soothingly crowding his isolation that he's been so adamant on letting thrive.
Gaia may have become significant to Mando, too significant in many people's opinion — an opinion speaking of foolishness at how easily she could've tricked him and done as Toro, or still can; terminate him while his guard is lowered and hijack his ship and take The Child for her own gain. Mando may not have known Gaia for years and years on end as some people have with their companion, and he's truly sad to say so, but still he chooses to trust her and sincerely believe her to be a good person, regardless of the danger in letting her take a small step closer for each day and each riveted beat of his frail heart.
Mando had a moment of weakness on Nevarro, he's now willing to admit.
Gaia was a nobody on the desert of Arvala-7 — just another soul willing to go on for another day when she assisted him, when she was laughing and grinning and scowling in her own right, but then came her stolen sword. It was the first time he witnessed vulnerability in her, the first time he came to respect that she was surely more than just a bounty hunter whose purpose was to earn money. It made him falter, consider things to an extent and that's why he began to rely on her also, never coming to reject her for staying a while longer in his own starship.
Gaia put her faith and trust in him as no other person had done in a very long, long time.
It has crossed Mando's mind a few times that the reason why he permitted for her to tag along was so as to fill his profuse loneliness at first — to have some sort of connection there to keep him from going crazy and that's what he so selfishly intended although she seemed interesting enough from the beginning, and that's what took over in the end: intrigue.
It canceled the desires for just any type of plain social presence to instead be replaced by sheer and genuine mutual feelings of friendship. A relationship in which they both may heal from as long as it takes. A bond he never knew he wanted, needed, or deserved.
Mando cannot say what this searing warmth inside of his heart is whenever Gaia so much as just looks or talks to him — and yes, his head have already long since been twisted by being so unsure about whether he would or should ever act on it, and yes, it is confusing and thrilling at the same time — yet it's also comforting above else when she comes to mind among the people he cares about, when he has this fickle wish of falling asleep while holding her hand, caress her scars, or remain by her side with every adventure and many other similar cases which he doesn't dare breathe to another living being. He has yet to decide if it's actually good or bad in itself but promising it is, nevertheless, and that's all he needs for now at least — endearing hope.
And as he needs it, he also intends to wholeheartedly keep her safe with it.
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"You'll regret it, what you did." Gaia attempts to place herself differently against the Razor Crest's wall, but her body won't allow it. The smallest movement irritates the fresh wound sitting right above her abdomen, causing her blue complexion to blanch and sweat to gather on her face; a torrent of pain almost stealing her consciousness. Her eyes are half-lidded, voice meek and vague as she glimpses Peli and The Child across from her. The mechanic is held at gunpoint by Toro, rigid and uncomfortable, while The Child is as oblivious as can be. Gaia would've smiled at him if the situation was any different, but it's not as the pit droids have taken refuge in Peli's office and Mando has yet to show up.
Mando. . .
The mere thought of him is what keeps Gaia fighting to stay awake and talk right now.
"Not even close to it," Toro drawls, staring at Gaia who's sitting on the floor. "Fennec was just another obstacle I had to overcome."
Gaia can't help but give out a worn laugh, right in the face of Toro himself. The flexing of her belly hurts with the injury and one can easily see it on her expression yet she continues to gaze calmly up at him. "Not Fennec," she states before sighing. "Mando."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Gaia blinks. "When he discovers Fennec's body, he'll come looking for you."
Toro smirks, a very crude amusement in his dark eyes. "That's what I'm counting on."
"Then you're counting wrong. You have no idea what Mando is capable of," Gaia says with assurance in her voice, fire ignited within her soul. "He's reliably competent unlike you, you bastard. He's one of the greatest people I've ever met, and that says something. You cannot even hope to rival his spirit. You're just nothing. . .Toro Calican."
"Are you done?" Toro asks with a scowl.
"No," Gaia breathes, features hardening and venom spitting from her teeth. "Fuck you."
Gaia leans her head against the chilly wall, somewhat content with the offensive language she just spewed at Toro. She closes her eyes, only opening them when she hears the faded sound of the hangar's automatic door suddenly going off. Her blood runs cold, and Toro shuffles to stand properly as his gaze darts to the lowered ramp of the Razor Crest, moonlight pooled at the bottom of the ledge as if harbouring a glimmering ocean.
Gaia's attention is sundered for a moment. She can hear Toro call out to someone but not who as her focus remains with the opposite wall of herself, and it's enraging if anything.
"Took you long enough, Mando." Toro emerges from the writhing shadows of the Razor Crest, holding The Child in his arms and Peli at the mercy of his blaster. "Looks like I'm calling the shots now, huh, partner?"
Gaia's head lolls to the side. She observes Toro's back and the surface of Mando's flickering helmet, eyes eventually closing. She's drifting on the edge of unconsciousness and somehow never straying fully into it. Toro's little spiel with Mando is never comprehended by her — none that she would come to distinctly remember anyway, merely the murmur of their voices and quiet footfalls across metal and sand. It would end up being somewhat anticlimactic for Gaia as the distant noise of a flash charge goes off in the next second, the scattered bolts of a blaster, and the more concentrated one followed by a battle-hardened Mandalorian. And even if she did have her wits about her, she would surely not blink once with Toro Calican's death.
"Gaia. . ."
"She's injured—" Peli's scuttled voice reaches Gaia, faintly stirring her awake, "and it's bad."
Gaia's eyes quiver open under the fluorescent lights, recognizing the man in front of her. "You're here. What happened to the asshole?"
"A blaster bolt," Mando reveals, voice unusually serene despite the dark undertone.
Gaia nods in acknowledgment. "Good."
"We should get her patched up before it gets worse," Peli suggests with a concerned frown. "If I remember correctly, I might still have some medical supplies left in my office."
"Anything would be appreciated." Mando dips his head in gratitude, watching Peli lower The Child to the floor of the Razor Crest. She then scurries out of the starship, discussing shortly with the pit droids about what to do with Toro's body on her way out.
"Gaia?"
"Mh?" Gaia automatically raises her head, exhaustion carried deep in her response.
"I'm going to move you now," Mando warns her softly, grasping her shoulders. "You should be lying down when Peli gets back so we can have a better look at your wound."
"Mm. . ."
Gaia's brows are pinched together as she makes her best effort to help Mando place her fatigued body on the floor. She hisses and curses under her breath along the way as they just manage, exhaling with short-lived relief when her back meets with the cold deck. Mando then remarks something to her which she just barely hears, listening to his retreating footsteps as he exits the Razor Crest. The Child has made his way over to her in the meantime. "Hey, little one," she greets fondly, her eyes drooping lower and lower.
The Child coos at her, watching her for a moment before extending his tiny hand and resting it on her forehead as if trying to help.
"Mhm. Thanks," Gaia cherishes with a fleeting smile. "I'm all better now, huh?"
In the same moment the words leave Gaia, Mando returns. He kneels by her side and places a brown pouch off to the side which most likely contains credits or alike by the edged noise as it sags on the floor. Gaia doesn't ask into it, too tired to focus on the minority of things for the time being. Instead, she blinks up at Mando's visor. "Djarin. . ." she calls, bringing him to flinch — pleasant chills rummaging over his body and skin. "Do you ever take that off? Your helmet, I mean."
Mando hesitates, but only because of the unexpected turn of things. "Sometimes."
"When do you do it? I don't think I've ever heard you tell me I should turn around or close my eyes, or similar things like that."
"Well. . ." Mando says slowly, "I usually do it when you're asleep. It's just easier that way."
Gaia expels a weary sigh, humming. "If you ever need me to leave the room because you have to take your helmet off, just tell me, Mando. Please don't ever be afraid to say so, because I'll do it, and you can't stop me. . ."
A smile dances on Mando's lips and his heart skips a ringing beat. "Is that a promise, Ascena?" he asks in a lighthearted manner.
"What else would it be, Djarin?" she cheerfully counters, mildly grinning.
Gaia's elated expression sinks. Her joyful mood turns upside down and her vision grows a bit out of focus as she starts to feel lightheaded. Blinking several times and attempting to ignore the repetitive, throbbing sting near her abdomen and lower back, her breathing goes from light to moderately heavy. The top of the Razor Crest seems to spin in circles upon circles and Gaia tries to grab at the floor, closing her eyes to subdue the rising nausea in the back of her throat.
"Mando?. . ."
"Yes? What is it?"
Gaia inhales with a strained look, gulping. "I think. . .I'm pretty sure I'm about to faint."
— Author's Note —
Me, looking at Mando: baby boy. baby
Toro:
Me: evil