Warnings: There is mature sexual content and canon typical violence. I do not give specific trigger warnings. If you have triggers, this may not be a story for you.Â
I do not use Ai in my writing.
Also available on A03
Multiple Part Fanfic (in progress)
Summary:Â The Mandalorian Bounty Hunter has unintentionally rescued you from raiders- at least that's what you thought. Now he's agreed to escort you back to civilization. You've got secrets you need to keep and he seems to be carrying one of his own. After a major betrayal, is he your enemy or your lover?
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Part of the In the Dark Series: 18+ Smut & Story /Romance and Adventure Din X Fem!Reader Insert
Just a reminder, I DO NOT post specific trigger warnings, so if you have triggers, this may not be a story for you. Read at your own risk.
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Branches from flora and various shrubbery whip lashes against your skin as you blaze a trail through the lush green forest. A streak of blaster light spears past, narrowly missing your head. The faint smell of burnt hair stings your nostrils, confirming it was indeed a very close call. Your heels pound the leaf strewn path in an effort to put more distance between you and the source. A hundred feet ahead, the fog lies thicker- potential cover. You charge ahead, until you enter the heavy mist and divert from the known path. You tuck yourself up against a moonraker, the bark digging into your back as you press yourself flat. Your chest, desperate for more air, rises and falls with heavy breath, making it difficult to be quiet. The enemy grows nearer, slowing to scan the area.Â
You know your surroundings well by now and use the knowledge to formulate your next move. You slowly circle around the tree- its massive trunk shielding you from sight. The enemy halts, listens. You pick up a stick and hurtle it in the opposite direction, hoping even a second or two of distraction will give you the head start you need to make it to the gorge. When you hear the enemy move in that direction, you sprint off the opposite way. Ahead, the deep gorge- maybe thirty feet wide and two hundred feet deep. Its craggy walls are covered in slick moss, so even if you were to climb down the side, thereâd be little hope of holding on.Â
You pump your arms faster, knowing youâll need every bit of speed you can muster to make it to the halfway point over the middle. Confident in your decision, you speed forth, waiting until the absolute last second- your toes hanging off the edge of the cliff face before you take a flying leap. Your arms swing wildly in a windmill motion as nothingness passes below your feet. The opposite side of the gorge feels miles away- youâll never make it on your own.Â
Luckily, there are thick ropes of jungle vine that hang from the canopy above. Sometimes they give, like the snap of a rubber band, and sometimes they hold. Sometimes. Today is just another roll of the dice.Â
Your hands squeeze tight when they meet the thick cord of green rope. Your body slides down- the slick of morning dew making it difficult to hold on until you squeeze even harder, hands cramping, knuckles tensing. The power of your jump gives you the momentum to swing the remaining distance. You let go, tumbling into a roll. Another laser blast hits the soil next to your face, a spray of dirt hitting your eyes. The enemy is relentless. You clamber back to your feet, knowing every second is precious.Â
The path is rocky, littered with rolling pebbles and thick tree roots. You nearly stumble, as your toe catches on one, the path now heading down the mountain. Another blast zings past your shoulder, causing a flock of birds to scatter from the brush. You instinctively duck as more blasts fire in quick succession.Â
The path begins to level out just as you approach a secondary forest within- this one made up of a thick grove of bamboo shoots. Maneuvering quickly between the tall stalks is challenging, but it also provides added cover from more blaster fire.Â
The enemy is gaining, and you are starting to slow down. You consider two options. You could try climbing the stalks, which jut upward into the canopy. Your enemy might not think to look up. It's possible youâll be able to take cover from above, if you can get out of sight in time. If not, youâll be an easy target. Looking up and assessing your energy level, you decide to go with option two instead. Picking one of the more juvenile stalks, you grab a hold and bend it down, using all your strength to snap the stalk at a low point. Stalk in hand, you race to the edge of the grove where a robust stream carves its way through the landscape.Â
You run, full steam ahead, stalk poised for your next maneuver. When you are mere feet from the waterâs edge, you thrust the stalk into a gopher hole, using the leverage to vault yourself up over the swampy water. You stealthy land on the back of a mud yak, peacefully napping in the marsh. He lifts his head and grunts a protest as you skip across the backs of his herd companions. Blaster fire erupts all around you now that you are out in the open, peppering the waterâs surface and splattering you with muck. When the path of mud yak backs runs out, you say a silent prayer and hope one of the mossy rocks doesn't take you out completely. You nimbly hop from one to the next, substituting rocks for protruding water cypress knees when necessary. With one final leap, your feet make an impact with dry land.
Blaster fire ceases as your attention is drawn to a slow clap.
âLook at you. Not a single hit this time?âÂ
A quick body check confirms you are mostly unscathed, if not dirty. Luke confirms as much as he gently pulls a leaf from your hair.
âNope, and I think I shaved a few seconds off my time.â you say, bending over, hands on your knees as you catch your breath.Â
âYouâd have been even faster if you had taken the light saber, like I suggested.âÂ
âI told you, Iâm more of a blaster girl, or knife girl.â
Luke inhales deeply, likely tired of this same old argument.  âSabers are the weapons of the jedi- you canât avoid them forever.â
Watch me.Â
Deciding better of it, Luke drops the issue and hands you a water bladder. You tilt your head back and chug the cool water, caring not one bit that rivulets stream down the sides of your mouth. When youâve had your fill, you dab your wet chin into the crook of your elbow.  The training bot that had been chasing you hovers over, awaiting its next instruction.Â
âBetter luck next time.â Luke says, before dismissing it for the day.Â
âIâm proud of you, youâve come a long way.â
When Luke had first brought you to Ossus, you had spent weeks just healing your body and recovering from all the neglect you had suffered on Gideeonâs ship. You hadnât realized the amount of weight you had lost, both muscle and mass. Hadnât realized how depleted you were. It had taken a solid month of rest and regular meals before you were able to start physical âtrainingâ. After that it had been months of running the training course before you were able to get through it all, and now, more than a year later, you were finishing it with nary a scratch on you. Truth be told, it was your favorite part of training. Being out in the wild felt like home and when you were running the course, there wasnât time to get lost in other thoughts. Because thatâs what happens. Sessions of silent meditation and contemplation that were supposed to âconnect you to the forceâ, instead lead you down a rabbit hole to the past. Thoughts of Din. Thoughts of your brother, sometimes even of your parents. You may have made great progress so far as physical strength went, but when it came to making strides as a force wielder, you felt no stronger than you did the day you arrived.Â
An hour later, you and Luke sit opposite each other, your legs crossed, eyes shut, as you once again try to connect to the force. Short blades of grass tickle your ankles as the cool breeze flutters past. One-eyed bullfrogs croak a chorus with the river reeds while crickets chirp in the background. And between you, lay a pile of river rocks that should be hovering midair. You sneak one eye open for a peek- not a single rock floats, not even a wiggle.Â
âAhhh!â you blurt out in frustration. âItâs no use, I canât do it!â you say, plopping on your back, arms splayed to your sides in defeat.Â
Luke sighs. âCanât or wonât?â
âDonât you think I would if I could? You say youngling padawans can do this- why canât I? I just donât feel it the way you do.â
âBecause you donât want to.â
âYou think Iâm doing this on purpose?â
âI think youâre still in denial that you have this ability, Iâm just not sure why.â
You look away, swallowing the lump in your throat.
âTalk to me- I canât help you if you donât tell me what youâre feeling.â
It takes you a moment. Sharing feelings in a therapy sesh isnât exactly standard practice growing up in an orphanage. Suck it up, swallow it down and ignore it, that's the way you âdealâ with it.Â
âYou say, with the force, I can lift a rock as easily as a whole ship- that the difference is only in my mind.â
He nods, âThatâs right.â
âWell if thatâs true, and I have this abilityâŠthat means I could have saved my brother, and I didnât.â
Realization dawns on his face. He slides over the grass to sit beside you.Â
âYouâre carrying guilt that you arenât responsible for. You have to find a way to let go of it, or youâll never get past this.âÂ
âHe might still be alive if I hadnât been so weak.âÂ
âYou canât think that way, it wasnât your fault.â
You begin plucking blades of grass, needing to find something to do with your fingers as your mind struggles to process the emotions reeling through you.Â
âI know how you feel- the guilt. Iâve been right where you are.â
âYou have?â you ask, sitting up.Â
âRight before I found out I had the ability, my aunt and my uncle were killed. They were the ones that raised me.â He says by way of explanation. âI should have been there, but I wasnâtâŠand they were where I should have been.â
âLuke,â you hesitate. âI had no idea- Iâm so sorry.âÂ
âI used to think, if I had been there, theyâd still be alive.â
You remain silent, not sure what to say.Â
âBut I had to let go of that.â
You try to contemplate how exactly you are supposed to let go of the guilt. Holding on to it had proved to be easy. Letting go was a different beast altogether. Images of Halo plague your brain. Everything he had done for you. Tore you away from your father, hid you away where you wouldnât be found- going on the run and taking the heat for all of it, leaving behind the life he had built, all to protect you. Gone in a few moments because you were too weak to seize this ability and save him. âHow?â
âI suppose, it was realizing that it wasnât my fault. Bad things happen everywhere- all the time. The Empire hurts people all the time, regular people, farmers, families. Those people arenât force wielders, theyâre just ordinary people trying to live their lives. And thisâŠâ he continues, looking down at his hands, âYou canât look at it like a curse. You have to embrace it, as a way to help those people.âÂ
Silence reigns as his words sink in. You had viewed it as a curse, and had said those very words to yourself time and again. Hadnât you thought yourself a monster, but really? Iâm just trying to live.Â
âHow do I get past it?â
He smiles. âRather than focusing on whatâs been lost, try focusing on gratitude for whatâs been given. I lost my father, I did lose my family, but found another one in the process.âÂ
And heâs giving up time with them to train me.Â
You take that in and let it sit. Great, more guilt.
After a few more moments, he nudges you with his shoulder. âHey, I think thatâs enough training for today. Weâre long overdue for some fun, donât you think?â
âSure, fun sounds good, what do you have in mind?â
âWhat do you want to do?âÂ
Drumming fingers over your bent knee, you consider the limited options available to you on the far outskirts of Ossus. A few rounds of sabacc? Rather than playing with credits, you and Luke had taken up some high stakes games, betting the homestead chores as wagers. Field tennis? Target practice? Nah. Your brain lands on the funnest thing youâve done since coming here. Without saying a word, Luke returns your smile and says, âYeah, thatâs what I thought youâd say. Last one there is a rotten gartro egg!â
A few hours later, youâre worn out from having the most fun youâve had in a long time. You flick off the last few switches, effectively shutting down the engines of the Eclipse - a modified starfighter, conveniently lifted from Moff Gideonâs cruiser. Luke had chosen to hijack the ship, picked for its maneuverability, speed, hyperdrive, laser cannons, and most importantly- its extra seat. R2 had piloted back his preferred X-Wing, while you two had gotten acquainted over the journey.Â
What should have been one of the most awkward and uncomfortable get-to-know-you situations of your life, had turned out to be peaceful. Luke's presence was comforting- a welcome surprise considering your initial introduction had been a plea into the void and then witnessing the man completely annihilate a garrison of dark troopers without breaking a sweat.Â
As months fell off the calendar, the two of you had spent many hours on the ship. At first, they were spent making modifications. First to go, was all location transponders and identifiers. Later, it was repainting the black and red exterior. When all the old paint was buffed away, Luke had assigned you the task of picking the replacement color. When you stared back at that freshly buffed chrome, it reminded you of beskar. âLet's keep it the way it is.â
You often wondered whose ship it might have been, but your feelings had landed on the logical conclusions. It belonged to either Flint or Jax. Most likely it had been Jaxâs. You wouldnât put it past that arrogant asshat to coordinate the colors of his ship to the colors of his wardrobe. You hoped it was his, because in that case, thereâd likely be nobody looking for it. And if it wasnât? Well, then youâd have to add theft to the list of things you now owed Flint for.Â
Kindness â
Killing Jax â
Potentially sacrificing his mission â
Helping me escape â
Ship â
You think about him often, wondering if he escaped the ship in another spacecraft, as not to compromise his identity? Or was he discovered by the crew of Mandalorians that had overtaken the ship? Did he and Din ever cross paths?Â
With the previous ownerâs identity in question, Luke had preferred to stick to the immediate area, out of sight from anyone who may be on the lookout for a missing starfighter. He taught you to fly, and in only a matter of months you had moved beyond basic maneuvers and into battle ones. Sometimes youâd play non-lethal war games and dog-fight him with simulated blasts while he piloted his x-wing. He was an excellent pilot and to date, you hadnât yet landed a shot on him, but your confidence was growing. You may not be much compared to a seasoned pilot, but you were a dead shot when it came to hitting the targets he set up for you.Â
Other times, youâd take the ship to the nearest mountaintop village of Knossa, when you needed supplies or found yourself going stir crazy.Â
You take off your helmet and goggles, leaving them behind and climb down from the cockpit. Luke does the same from his ship and you meet in the middle as you make your way back towards the shelter you now call home. âI almost had you! I was so close!âÂ
âYeah, I thought for sure youâd catch me coming off that barrel roll.âÂ
âMe too, but you just completely disappeared from sight, whereâd you go?â
âLanded on that asteroid that was passing by.âÂ
âWhat!? No way! Unbelievable.âÂ
âLearned that one from an old friend.â
âIâll keep that in mind, next time.âÂ
âTell you what, why donât you take the rest of the afternoon off- Iâll see you for last meal?â
âYes, Master.â
You walk into your small stone hut, tossing your jacket onto the bed. A nap sounds great- rotations on Ossus are thirty-one hours, making training days long with a few breaks scattered throughout. Mid-day sleeps are necessary for the body to recover, but since you had the rest of the day off you decide to get on with your chores instead. If all goes according to plan, youâll hit the sack right after last meal and tack on that extra two hours to your sleep night. You bend over and tap the little metal dome youâve come to love.
âWake up DUM.âÂ
The modified pit droid wakes, unfurling his robotic limbs from his compact resting position. He stretches his brown and gray plated limbs into the air and mimics the sound of a human yawn- which makes absolutely no sense for a droid to do. A lot about him doesnât make sense, including why he has a tan hat with goggles around the rim. Somebody had retrofitted a chest compartment, complete with tools as well. Luke had hypothesized it had something to do with his custom coding, and a brain module which appears to have come from the remnants of a safari droid. Nevertheless, you have come to love the little hairbrain, affectionately dubbed DUM, not only because he is a second class, D-U-M series pit droid, but because he is also kind of, wellâŠdumb.Â
DUM was a gift from Luke months ago when he had worried that you were growing lonely, silently pining over your lost Mandalorian.
âYou miss him, donât you?â
âVery much.â is all you had said.Â
Not long after, Luke had found the little guy waiting to be demolished at a scrap yard and figured you could use a companion other than himself. Though he in no way makes up for the loss of the Mandalorian, he did provide some welcome companionship and occasionally, entertainment. Mostly he likes to accompany you outdoors and observe the local wildlife. Thatâs what safari droids are for- programmed to survey and research the galaxyâs creatures and environments. Mostly he runs around imitating what he sees in nature and is a complete menace in the process, chirping like a bird, purring like a loth-cat.
âHad a good sleep, did you?â
BATTERY 100. BATTERY 100.Â
Thatâs the other thing. At some point his external vocabulator had been damaged- or maybe it was his processor. Now he has a limited index of maybe two-hundred basic words- mostly all fauna related- and he repeats everything he says twice.Â
âHowâs Edy today, did you water her?â For some reason you had taken to naming each and every plant you nurtured from a seedling, assigning each a name that coordinated with their subsequent imagined personality. A colorful name for the ones you dub as dramatic- dropping yellow leaves or wilting when youâre a day late for watering, and more serious names for the ones that stand proud.Â
DUM WATER. DUM WATER.
â Good, and how are the propagations? Have they rooted yet?â
NEW GROWTH. NEW GROWTH.Â
âExcellent! Looks like Iâll have to weave another hanging basket. We can put it rightâŠâ You scan the small room for a potential empty spot and find none that the sunlight can still reach. Vines of Undying Heart, cover nearly every wall surface including the ceiling above. âDamn. Looks like we might be outta space.â
OOOoooh. OOOoooh.
You sigh, âBig brotherâd be proud.â
You look back at DUM, eagerly awaiting your next words, like a hound wagging its tail, ready to be walked.Â
âShall we do our rounds?âÂ
He beeps and does a little twinkle-toes happy dance, making you smile.Â
A few hours later and the garden has been tended, the eggs collected, and the traps checked for game. The sun was finally starting to set, the sky awash in swatches of light pinks and purples.
You sit at the meadowâs edge near the riverbank, elbow resting on your knee, head tilted and propped by the support of your palm and watch as DUM darts in and out of the brush every few minutes. Heâs taken a liking to a flock of miniature churi that have nested nearby, but they seem thoroughly annoyed with their new admirer. You grin as a churi sprints out of the bush, proclaiming its annoyance with loud, stressed squawking noises as DUM trails behind, flapping his mechanical arms, and doing his best to imitate the sound. It's funny as hell.Â
A moment later, the two are facing off in the meadow. The large bird splays its wings, vibrating them in a colorful display of dominance, shifting its weight from foot to foot. DUM does his best to reciprocate, extending his arms and dilating his lens as his antennae swivels. With his white and yellow paneling and bright pink sensor, heâs actually holding his own. The bird tilts its head, intrigued, and then startles DUM with a new delighted chirping sound. The roles quickly reverse, and the bird chases after DUM, who is now panicked.Â
âCareful DUM, you might have just accepted a marriage proposal with that little mating dance,â you softly laugh to yourself.Â
DUMâs antics are often entertaining, and even with his limited vocabulary, he has proven to be a decent companion. Sure, Luke had become a good friend, and over the past year you had spent more time with him than most other people in your entire life; but he is also your teacher-your master foremost, and maintaining a friendship with somebody that is also constantly giving you instructions and rules to follow, can be challenging at times. There was a line there that you are constantly aware of. Â
DUM emerges from the bushes a few moments later. His head is down as he slowly walks toward you, staring at something in his metal hands.Â
âWhatcha got DUM?âÂ
He was always bringing you new things to examine and identify in an effort to expand his catalog of nature knowledge. Little cotton balls, twigs, feathers, even a tadpole once.Â
He makes sort of a sad sound- a modulated whimper, extending his hands to you. BROKEN. BROKEN.
In his hands, is a young churi, its downy wings still lacking the vibrant color of the adult birds. Its left wing is clearly broken, bent back at a nearly ninety degree angle. A fatal wound for its age and species.
âOh no DUM, what happened? Did you do this?â
DUM FOUND NEST BROKEN, he repeated twice.Â
âYou found him like this? Poor little guy, what a shame.â
LIVE? LIVE?
âWill he live? I doubt it buddy. Heâs still young and without the use of his wing, he wonât be able to fly or defend himself. Predators will target an injured bird pretty quickly, Iâm afraid.â
DUM makes another sad sound as he looks down at the injured creature. It's barely moving, as if the little thing has already accepted its fate.
DUM extends his hands out to you in offering. FIX? FIX?
âFix it? Iâm no vetâŠ.â you trail off, your heart sinking when DUMâs antennae lower, mimicking two sad eyebrows.Â
âWell, I suppose I could try.â
DUM perks up at your words, his plate feet alternating as they stamp the ground with hope.Â
You carefully take the bird into your hands, being mindful not to touch the broken wing. Two little yellow eyes look up at you and then away, too weak to fight back, as if it was saying, make it quick.
If it werenât for DUM, youâd consider the thing as found breakfast, but as it were, trapping was good lately, and the food stores were currently enough to get by for a month without adding to them. Appeasing your mechanical friend is the obvious choice. Â
You hold the small creature in one hand, covering it with the other. You close your eyes and search for the little light that lives down deep inside, the one you abandoned on Gideon âs ship. At first you think the light might be gone, nowhere to be found after a year of not looking. But eventually, the small soft light begins to grow, expanding until itâs large enough to tug on. When you have a good mind-grip on it, you begin to push it forward, channeling it outward, and into the small bird. You slow the flow when you begin to feel fluttering in your palms, and cut the stream off completely when it begins to flap its wings.Â
You open your eyes and move your hand revealing a completely healed bird. It stands in your palm, its head bobbing slightly as it turns. You run your finger down, from the top of its head down its back a few times.Â
âI think we did it, DUM. All fixed.â
FIXED. FIXED. FIXED. FIXED. DUM repeats, his tone excited as he claps and beeps. Where did he learn this stuff?
His excitement startles the bird, and it quickly takes flight, back in the direction of its family's nest. DUM takes off too, tracking his new step-child, it would seem. The whole scene makes you smile.
âIâve failed you.â Luke says, startling you. Unbeknownst to you, he must have witnessed the whole thing.Â
âWhat?â you ask, as he comes over and sits beside you on the grass.Â
âIâve failed you.â
Your stomach turns, instantly soured by his words. âYou haven't failed me, if anything Iâve failed you.â
He slowly shakes his head in disagreement. âI just watched you heal that creature, on the brink of death, with little effort. I donât think you realize how extraordinary you are. What you just did is practically unheard of. Jedi masters have studied the ancient texts for decades and never come close to achieving that ability.â
âFirst of all, it wasnât with âvery little effortâ, I actually tried really hard. And second, If Iâm so âextraordinaryâ, why can I do that and yet, not lift a few rocks off the ground?â
âAnd therein lies my failure.âÂ
You look at him questioningly.
âTell me about the other times youâve used the force, the other times you have done what I just saw.â
Taking a deep breath, you start detailing the history of your power use. You start at the beginning- the incident with your father. Then it was at the orphanage with Tuck. The mudhorn with Din. On Lahsbane, when you and Din were falling from the sky and again when he was injured without his helmet. On Gideonâs ship.Â
Luke nods. âAnd tell me how you did it.âÂ
âHow?â It seems like a silly question coming from someone who has mastered his own force abilities.Â
âYes, how did you access the force in those times?â
You feel a little embarrassed to try and describe using the force to him- a pro, but ok, here it goes.
âI close my eyes, and search for a little light that hides deep in my chest. If I concentrate hard enough, I can see it begin to grow. It builds and builds until there's enough light, and then I loose the energy where I need it to go.â
He looks stunned and a little⊠disappointed? He rubs the scruff on his chin with his solid hand, pausing with his fingers over his mouth.Â
âWhat? Is thatâŠwrong?â
âIâm whatâs wrong.â He shakes his head. All this time, Iâve been telling you how things are instead of teaching how they are. Iâm so sorry.âÂ
âWhat do you mean?â
âIt makes so much sense now.âÂ
âLuke, nothing youâre saying is making sense. Please, explain.â you say with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. He seems so defeated.Â
He sighs. âYou are truly a rarity.â You shake your head, still not comprehending what is now clearly obvious to him.Â
âMost sentient beings- even the ones who are not gifted with the force- have a natural inclination, a desire, an impulse, or even an instinct to want to control their surroundings.âÂ
âOkâŠâÂ
âWhat have I told you about the force, what have I made you repeat a thousand times over? Where is it?â
âThe force is an energy that binds all things in the galaxy. It is everywhere, in everything.â You say, reciting the words from your many lessons.
âRight, and the natural instinct of most every force wielder is to bend, to borrow, to influence the force that surrounds them. But not you.â
You shake your head slowly, still not comprehending.
âYouâre the exact opposite. When I lift this rock from the ground, Iâm influencing the force around me. The force in the air, the ground and the rock itself.â He demonstrates as a palm sized rock floats easily between you. âYou on the other hand, the only force you are wielding, is your own lifeforce- the force that lies within. You pull and tug and push it outward into the universe, right?â
It finally makes sense. You nod.Â
âThatâs probably also why you frequently passed out afterwards.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âThink about it. Every situation in which you blacked out after, was a life-or-death situation. Under those circumstances, you were willing to sacrifice your own lifeforce to save someone elseâs. Even that bird a moment ago- his life was on the line.âÂ
âSoâŠyou donât have a little light in you that can âŠaffect things?â
âThe light you see in your mind is just the tool your brain has chosen to focus and visualize your power. Instead of using the light you see inside yourself, I want you to seek out the light around you, the light that surrounds us and push that instead. Eventually, Maker willing- you wonât need to visualize it anymore, youâll simply sense it.â
You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them as you ponder the potential of this revelation. Your heart begins to pound with excitement. Things are finally, after all this time struggling, starting to make sense. Sure, maybe you couldnât lift the rocks- because there was no real danger. There hadnât been a motivation big enough to drain your lifeforce, butâŠ
âSo, Iâve been digging a well, while everyone else collects rainwater.âÂ
Growing up on a dry planet, Luke always appreciated a good water analogy.Â
âYouâve tapped into a well most Jedi forgot existed. If you can figure out how to get water from bothâŠâÂ
âIâll never be thirsty.â
âBut hereâs the difference. You are right to visualize your life-force like a well, something that can be drained, because if youâre not careful with how you use it, it can run dry. You understand the ramifications of that?â
âI die if I drain it completely?âÂ
He nods, âI think youâve been very lucky, itâs probably been your body's way of self-preservation, when you pass out before you completely deplete yourself.â
But itâs been worth it every time.
âWhen it comes to wielding the force around you, I donât want you to think of it as a well. Instead, I want you to think of it as a muscle- it will continue to grow in strength the more you use it.âÂ
Finally- it finally makes sense! All this timeâŠWhen it came to moving rocks, lifting a tin can- whatever it was, you had always drawn on your lifeforce because thatâs what you had always done. That was what had worked the first time and so that is how you thought it always had to be done. It never occurred to you that there was another way. Excitement and a previously unknown contentment battle for dominion in your heart. Clarity at last.Â
You sit together in silence for a while after that, watching the sun make its slow descent behind the slate mountains.Â
âYou donât have to stay.â He finally says, breaking the silence. âWhat?â you say, jerking your head in surprise.Â
âI donât want you to feel like you have to stay. In fact, Iâm not sure you should.âÂ
âYouâre kidding right? We finally have a breakthrough, and now youâre doubting me?â
âIâm not doubting you at all. Iâm doubting myself. I should have figured this out a long time ago.â
âCâmon, donât do that- Itâs not exactly like we have the resources of the old jedi. They had libraries, temples and a community to learn from. We just have each other. All things considered, I think weâre doing pretty good.â you say, nudging his shoulder.Â
âStill. Iâm not sure Iâm the best person for your training, I hardly had much training myself.â
âYeah yeah, I get it, youâre a natural. Luke, the student prodigy,â you joke. âBesides, if not you, then who?â
He doesnât say anything, but his eyes answer for you all the same. You look away, not wanting to talk about it.
âYou still love him, donât you?â he asks.Â
A year had come and gone a long time ago, and your love for Din hadnât wavered one iota.Â
âCan I ask you something, Luke?â
âShoot.â
âHave you ever wished you had a⊠normal life? That you didnât have this ability?â
He thinks about it for a moment and then answers. âGrowing up on Tatooine, I spent most of my youth looking forward to the day I could escape my mediocre existence. All I wanted was to get away and see what else the galaxy had to offer. When I finally did get away, I had no idea what was waiting for me out there. This thing, this ability that we haveâŠwell. Itâs not overstating it to say that it has saved a lot of lives.â Luke was being humble. You knew well that he had played a crucial role in bringing down the empire. Â
âStill...I had this dream not long ago. I was back on Tatooine, and I was married to this girl, Camie. Camie was a friend of mine back then and truth is, I had a big crush on her when I was young.â Luke smiles a pure genuine smile you've never seen before, his cheeks blushing slightly.
 â I never did anything about it though, because she was going with my friend Laze at the time. Anyways, in this dream, Camie and I were married. We had a child and were just living an ordinary existence back on the moisture farm- no force powers to speak of. I donât remember much else of the dream, but I do remember feeling like I was âŠ..â
âHappy.â you say at the same time.Â
He smiles at you, and you smile at him. The pink and purple clouds are backlit with the illuminating glow of the setting sun as it sinks behind the highest peak of the furthest mountain top. Water trickles in the background as you inhale the clean air and tranquility. Youâve managed to carve out a slice of heavenly peace in the center of the universe.Â
With all the ugly in the galaxy, death, the destruction, the sadness. The evil, the grime and poverty. Here, none of that exists. After years of running, and being afraid of what you are, you finally feel like thereâs some hope. That maybe you can stop running from it and finally become worthy of it. Stop mourning what was lost and be thankful that you had it at all- even for a moment. You look up to the fading light above as the first stars of the night wake in the sky. Reaching out with your senses, thereâs light all around you. Itâs everywhere, in everything.Â
Later that night, you lay in your cot, the soft glow of the lone candle dissipating as hours pass by. You can finally sense it, lifeforce everywhere. In the air, in the ground, in every green leafed vine hanging from the ceiling. At the start of the day, you werenât sure youâd ever be able to leave this planet again. Now, the endless possibilities beckon. Instead of running from your past, you can run toward a future.
You turn your head and blow out the candle. No longer afraid of the pitch black of darkness, instead you welcome it with open arms. For in the dark is where he meets you. Where you see him in your dreams and get to talk to him, kiss him, hold him again. You may not be able to fully trust the image of his face that you conjure- no doubt a pale comparison born of the precious few seconds you were given to imprint his features into your memory- but Maker, you know his voice, his hands and his kiss. Â
In the early morning hours, before the first light breaks, you finish stuffing your rucksack with only the necessities. You take a last look around, marveling at the place youâve called home for the past fourteen months. Your heart squeezes at the sight of every green plant youâve cared for and the sight of little DUM, looking small and confused. You canât take him with you, as you have no idea where youâre heading and the little safari droid is ill-equipped for galaxy travel. You press your forehead to his cold dome.Â
âDonât forget to put the seedlings in soil when the roots are six inches long. I know you can do it buddy.â
He answers with a sad sounding beep that tugs at your heart strings.Â
Luke enters the doorway, beaming when he sees three rocks floating in whimsical formations in the center of the room. He leans against the doorway, not bothering to hide his pride at the sight.Â
âYouâll look after him, wonât you? Heâs not very needy and heâll tend to the plants- that is if you want to keep them going.â
âOf course.âÂ
âCan you spare R2 for a rotation? He can drop me at the nearest star port.â
âNo, I want you to take the Eclipse. Itâs yours.â
âI couldnât- itâs worth too much.â
âI donât need two ships, and I prefer the x-wing. It should be safe enough for travel, and if youâd rather sell it, you should fetch enough credits to get you set up anywhere you want to go.â
âI donât know how to thank you enough⊠for everything.â
âYou donât have to.â
You slip your bag onto your shoulders and hug Luke with all the thanks in your heart, knowing thereâs always the possibility you may never see him again.
He squeezes back, a palm on the back of your head.
âIâm sorry,â you whisper in his ear, tears threatening to spill. âIâm sorry Iâm not what you thought. Sorry Iâm not a jedi.â
âJust so you know,â he answers back, âThe goal was never to make you a jedi. It was to make you safe. I think we accomplished that much.â
âI think so too,â you say, the rocks begin spinning faster in place and he smiles at your new-found control.Â
âWhat will you do now?â you ask.
âIâm not sure.â
âI was thinking about it last night. There has to be more out there like me. Maybe even young ones who are lost. Teachable ones! You should find them, Luke. Bring them here. Do for them what you did for me.â
He smiles. âMaybe I will.â
âGoodbye.â You kiss him on the cheek and head out the door, rubbing DUMâs head as you pass, the rocks coming to a gentle landing on the ground.Â
You step out into the morning air and breathe in slowly. Your future is out there somewhere, waiting.
âHow will you find him?â Luke calls out behind you.
âI wonât. Heâs a bounty hunter. If he still wants me, heâll find me.â
Din
Morlana One looks like a hundred other planets the Galactic Empire has left its mark on- dark, dreary, and hiding a corrupt underworld of villainy under the guise of free trade and security. No doubt, there is probably a section of landscape carved out for the elite to retreat to and bask in their spoils- but work never takes me to those places; and for every city block featuring fancy sky towers and cloud cutters occupied by the rich, thereâs ten times the amount of space dedicated to the scourge. Dank back alleys with shady deals, legal and illegal gambling, and brothels- which is exactly where Iâm headed.Â
Cold rain pummels me from above, seeping through my flight suit by way of the gaps between my armor. I have to work overtime to keep my steps uniform in outward appearance, but on the wet concrete, I can pick up on the sound of the uneven steps due to my limp- an unfortunate mishap of my own doing during an acquisition a few weeks back. Maybe itâs because I was outnumbered, though five to one had never been a dealbreaker before. More likely, itâs because my head wasnât in the game- hadnât been since leaving Moff Gideonâs ship.Â
I tried to bury myself in work, taking on every bounty I could get my hands on and in a record amount of time. Anything to distract me from my thoughts. Thoughts of being cast out as an apostate from the Tribe. Thoughts of her- where sheâs at, what sheâs doing, and who sheâs doing it with. My imagination has become my worst enemy. Taunting me with images of her, sharing a bed with the jedi.
The light in the dark alley flickers in time with the seductive rhythm of music, beckoning callers inside with the promise of a good time. If you have the credits, then that which you desire can be bought- for a short time anyway. And thatâs exactly what I want. A distraction, and ultimately a release. Maybe thatâs the catalyst I need to pull my head out of the fog and start moving on with my life. Iâve been stuck in limbo, unable to move forward in any direction. Maker knows she was able to move on, and Iâm glad for it. Thankful sheâs safe. But for some reason, my headâs still stuck back on Tython, watching her slip out of my arms. Iâm stuck chasing after something, only this time, Iâm not sure exactly what it is.Â
When she was taken, my sole purpose became getting back what I had lost. Every second spent not in pursuit of that goal was either a waste of time, or an obstacle to overcome. Even stopping to eat and sleep felt like time lost that I came to abhor.Â
Now that the mission has been completed, I find myself unable to move forward, my purpose undefined. Iâve tried to revert back to old ways, to pick up where I left off at the beginning of all this. Before her, survival was the goal. And I achieved that by doing what I was good at, hunting. But now, survival isnât enough. Iâve had a taste of what lies beyond survival, and Maker knows it was far more fulfilling.Â
Unable to concentrate, I began slipping up. When the majority of my bounties were being turned in cold, it was Carga who had suggested âa release might be in order.â After hunting down every available bounty in the parsec in record time, heâd grown tired of my relentless pace and questionable executions. Said it was âbad for business.â "I have other guild members to satisfy you know, and youâre making them all look bad. You do the work in half the time for the same price.â
âTheyâre making themselves look bad. You know most are either lazy or purposely hold off for weeks, just so they can drive the price up.â
 âThat may be the case, but either way, I canât keep giving you jobs like this and keep the guild happy. So effective now, youâre on a hiring freeze.âÂ
âIâm the best hunter you have, and youâre putting me on a freeze? For how long?â
 âUntil you get your shit together.â
 âMy shit together? I've turned in more bounties than all of these guys put together."
"And how many of those yielded no reward because they were turned in cold?"
I don't answer.
 âMando, Iâm your friend, you know I like you, but you canât keep going like this, if you do, itâs going to catch up with you sooner than later. You need a reset. Slow down, put all those credits youâve earned to good use. Take a vacation. And if a vacation isnât in the Mandalorian code, why not at least go find a release somewhere. Listen, I have a connection at the twi-lek healing baths, the girls are clean, theyâll take real good care of you.âÂ
That had been months ago. Youâd walked out of Cargaâs with a âNo thanks,â but after months of continuing on the same course and no change, now Iâm thinking, maybe he was right. Maybe all I needed was a good release to clear my head and get back in the game. It had been forever since I had one that wasnât by my own hand, and itâs not just because I spend the vast majority of my time alone on a ship. And why have I put it off for so long? Itâs not as if this was exactly new to me. I lost my virginity in a brothel, been to plenty of them over the years. It made sense for someone whoâs never in one place for more than a few days at a time and prefers to avoid attachments. I learned that lesson the hard way in my youth. Learned that some women quickly grow attached, when I had a one night stand with a mercenary working a mutual job. Needless to say, I haven't worked on a team since. And thatâs why brothels are perfect. Get in. Get off. Get out. Â
Thereâs a bouncer at the entrance, hidden mostly in shadow until I approach, and he warns, âSorry Mando, no weapons, no comms.âÂ
âIâm not here on business.â
 âDonât care. Rules apply to everyone, so unless you plan on popping that lid off and removing the suit, you donât have entry.â
 âLet him pass Tensee,â a husky female voice says from the doorway. She lightly drags her nails along the wall as she approaches, taking in the sight of me.Â
âBusiness or pleasure?â she asks.Â
âIâm not here on business.â I repeat.
âWell, in that case, I think we can make an exception for one of the galaxyâs fiercest warriors, donât you Tensee?â
Tensee is clearly annoyed but doesnât make a peep about the woman overriding him, which means sheâs probably the owner of the establishment.Â
âWelcome,â she says, as I follow her down the dimly lit hall that opens up to a bar and lounge area. Thereâs only a few patrons scattered around the room. None appear to be threatening. It must be a slow night- maybe thatâs the reason sheâs breaking her own rules.Â
âLooking for something special?â
Historically, Iâve never been too picky when it came to women. Any humanoid species will do. Size, shape never mattered too much. In fact, there's an element of freedom that comes with experiencing variety. Never judge a book by its cover and all that. Which is why I surprise the hell out of myself when a veritable list of attributes tumbles out of my mouth. âThis tall,â I level with my palm, followed by species-human, weight, skin, and the exact shade of eye color.Â
âDroid or biolog-â,Â
âNo droids.â
âAre you sure youâre not on duty?â she responds, and I realize I just sited a list like a specific chain code.Â
âNot on duty. JustâŠparticular.â
âI see. Well, I donât have anyone that matches that exact description, but I think youâll be happy with what weâve got.âÂ
âFine.âÂ
âAnd the helmet?â
âStays on.â
âUnderstood. Give me a moment and Iâll see whoâs available.â
âAnd tell her not to talk.â
She pauses, looking like she might be regretting breaking her own rules after all- like Iâm sending off red flags as some creep.Â
 âIâm not gonna hurt anyone, I just have particular tastes, that's all.â
She nods her acceptance before disappearing behind a curtain down the corridor. A few minutes later, and Iâm in a private room where the neon glow of the bar and the moans from other customers canât reach me. When the private door slides open, the Madam returns with a woman.
âMando, this is-âÂ
âThat wonât be necessary,â I interject.Â
She nods again. âOf course, you can call her whatever you want- she knows the rules. Iâll leave you two to get acquainted." She slips out the door leaving me and the woman alone. She cautiously approaches. Her hair is the right color, but itâs done up all wrong, her eyes arenât even close and sheâs about four inches too tall.Â
âLose the shoes.â
She immediately obeys, kicking off a pair of pointy ball breakers with a five-inch spike for support. Better. Her face is all wrong, sending up warning bells in my brain, but thatâs easily remedied. Just take her from behind. She reaches for my belt buckle and my hand immediately shoots out to grab her by the wrists. Itâs instinct and I have to remind myself that this is what I came here for. She swallows hard but doesnât back away. I unfasten my buckle, removing the belt, short blade and holster. I set it down within arms reach and return to the task at hand. I unzip and loosen my flight pants just enough to give her access. Iâve learned over the years that I donât have to shed much clothing to get business done and itâs a hell of a lot more convenient.
She drops to her knees, which is just fine. At this angle I won't have to see as much of her face. Reaching in, she pulls out my dick and starts stroking. I close my eyes and throw back my head in an attempt to concentrate- which is a new development. In the past, by now, Iâd be rock hard and well on my way to release. Now, It feels like a mental fight just to get my dick to stir. She switches to using her mouth, and at first I think, thisâll work. Then I make the mistake of looking down and into her eyes. Wrong. Everything about her is wrong. This isnât going to work, I canât even get an erection, Iâm literally limp in her hands. Itâs awkward as fuck. I step back, tucking my dick back in my pants and grab my belt to re-arm myself.
âIâm sorry,â She speaks. âIf you give me some more time-â
âDonât be. Itâs not you.â I say, fastening my belt in anger. Iâm not embarrassed, Iâm just frustrated that I really thought this might be what I needed to clear my head. I pull out a stack of credits and leave it on the bed as I head out the door. The Madam is waiting at the front entrance as I make my hasty retreat.Â
âYou overpaid.âÂ
For a second, I wonder how she knows Iâm not just a short fuse, but then again, she was probably watching the whole thing on some hidden viewer as a safety precaution.Â
âWasnât her fault, she did her job.â
âIs she dead?â
âDead? I told you I wouldnât hurt her; you can go ask her yourself.âÂ
âNot her.â
She continues when I donât answer. âThis tall,â she says, reciting back my wish list of features. âIâve seen it before, more often than youâd think. There are several reasons for this scenario.â she says, alluding to my failure in the bedroom. âOne is age, which by the looks of you, isnât it. Your body is strong, itâs your mind thatâs warped. Drugs- also no. Then thereâs PTSD or some kind of sexual trauma, which Iâm also guessing is a no. That leaves the last.âÂ
âWhich is?âÂ
âWidower syndrome. Men who have loved and lost their wives come here in the hopes of recreating that emotional connection. Sometimes, we can fake it, but most of the time, itâs not enough to come close to replicating what theyâve lost. They either end up curled up in a ball, crying on the bed, or they just canât get it up. So, am I right? Did she die?â
âNo. Sheâs not dead.âÂ
âHmmm. But she left you? Let me guess, upset that youâre more committed to your profession than you are to her? You refused to settle down?âÂ
âNo.âÂ
She looks perplexed, until a dawning realization washes over her face. âWas it the helmet? Because I wonât lie, itâd be fun for a while, but thenâŠâÂ
âNo, she never asked me to remove my helmet.â
âWhat then? I know she didnât leave you for another man, youâre a walking wet dream in that department, even with the helmet on, so what was it?âÂ
âYou really need to know that badly?â
âIâm a problem solver at my core and my entire profession is based on knowing the minds of men, so yes, it is driving me absolutely insane to not know why.â
I inhale. âWeâre sworn enemies. I told her to leave, that sheâd be better off with her own kind.â
â....Damn- Iâll give you that, I haven't heard that one before. Do you really believe that?â
âI thought I did.â
âAnd now you donât?âÂ
âI donât know what I believe anymore.âÂ
How in the worlds I got wrapped up in a conversation about my personal existential crisis with a brothel owner, Iâll never know. But here we are, and somehow, putting words to the way this feels and letting this complete stranger playfully delve into sorting out my personal problem is oddly comforting.Â
Been cooped up on the ship for too long.Â
âI bet sheâd take you back.â
âA lot of time has passed. Itâs too late for that now.â
âYou donât know that for sure. If sheâs alive, thereâs still a chance.â
âI sent her straight into the arms of someone like her. Someone who isâŠher equal.â
âListen Mando, I donât know a lot about matters of the heart, but I do know that when the Maker sends you the one , itâs never your equal.âÂ
âAnd you know this becauseâŠÂ youâve found the one? â
âHell no! But I did find the wasnât ,â she smiles before continuing. âBut, all those widowers I was telling you about, the ones that curl up and cry, well trust me when I say, I was getting paid to listen to hours of stories about their wives, and in every scenario, the Maker has paired them up with someone who on paper is their complete opposite. Itâs not about being equal, itâs about being balanced.â
âYou donât know anything about me.â
âI know that the only difference between you and those widowers, is that they donât have that chance anymore.â
âYou hand her another credit, 'for the friendly advice'Â and head out into the still pouring rain.Â
âHey Mando!â She shouts, âFor what itâs worth, I hope we never see you again!â
Thirty minutes later and Iâm back on my ship where I can relax under the added protection of hyperspace travel. I take a cold shower-another failure in my attempt to clear my head. Afterward, I collapse into my cot naked, feeling no rush to jump back into my armor. Thoughts quickly turn to her- they always do the minute my head hits the pillow. I think of her face, her body, her voice, the things we did, what we went throughâŠand sure enough, my dick is harder than beskar. A few strokes in and Iâm already there. With a free hand, I yank the pillow out from beneath my head and place it over my face, inhaling deeply. I donât know if her lingering scent is a reality, or if itâs something Iâve conjured from a memory, but one deep pull and Iâm coming faster than warp speed.Â
My dick is a traitor.Â
Add it to the list of things gone wrong. A ship that has seen better days. A 'hiring freeze' by my employer. Cast out from my tribe- an apostate with no prospects of redemption. A Mandalorian no more.
And it was worth it. Given the choice, Iâd do it all over again to ensure her safety. So why canât I let go?Â
I canât stop thinking about what the Madam said. 'Itâs not about being equal, itâs about being balanced.' We had felt balanced. âItâs what we do, we save each other."Â
And right now, I need her to save me.
I jump out of my cot, and climb up to the cockpit, quickly pulling up the navigational maps.Â
In the days that followed the events on Gideonâs ship, I assisted the rebel crew of Mandalorian outsiders in the acquisition and systematic dismantling of Gideonâs ship. They seemed excited to gain access to potential intel- none of which interested me. But after I saw her reaction to a cryo-freezer, and Gideon said she could be carrying a child, I made it my number one priority to eradicate any information on her. Medical files, biologic data used for tracking fobs, and every known marker of her chain code. The destruction of that data would help ensure theyâd never find her again, and I made sure of it. But not before noting her final transponder location.Â
I plug in the coordinates, and detailed data on the planet Ossus appears. The chances that it wasnât just a stopping point and she has remained there all these months- well over a year- is small. But itâs a start isnât it?  If anyone can find herâŠ
And just like that, the clouds muddling my mind part to reveal my renewed purpose. Find my girl. With a clarity I haven't possessed in months, my thoughts come into clear focus, shining a beacon on a singular objective. Iâm in the dark, and she is the light.
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A/N: Yes, I will finish this story. I know I said one more chapter, but it turned into two. So, one more chapter to go after this, and part one will be finished. I've already plotted the first 6 chapters of part two and have renewed inspiration to get there. For those who patiently wait and support the necessary leave of absence author's sometimes have to take, I thank you.
*This chapter's playlist includes:
Star Wars | Jedi Knight Meditation Music & Ambience
(SW) The Mandalorian | Man of Honor
Not sure if I still have followers, but here is my last known taglist:
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Lady or GN reader. Taking up my time and mind. Layered, unhurried, and all consuming stories I canât get enough of. Binge worthiness. Pretty much all 18+
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Have a series recommendation not listed? please share below!
đź = HALL OF FAME selections
ADDING MORE AS I GO â¶ MAIN MASTER LIST
ONGOING SERIES
A FRESH START @theidiotwhowritesthings
Marshal Mando + nanny with a secret- sooo slow satisfying burn, great Mayfeld/Vance/Cara/Karga/Peli/Bo/Paz additions
AND ALL THE STARS ALIGN @inthe-dark-tonight
Din is hired to fight in a duel between two waring planets. You're the princess....
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING on AO3 @keeshya6
Holy moly this series is so well written, innovative, witty, and compelling. Din + princess turned slave and their destiny pull towards one another
AS WE COLLIDE on AO3
Din + Lady medic in a hidden rebellion base, she saves his life, their relationship is the heart of this story.
BELOVED @groguspicklejar
Din + woman on the run from bad relationships/being married off against her will, slow burn
đź BEST KEPT SECRET @luckbealincoln
Din bodyguard + unhappily married princess⊠rules are made and broken
THE CASSANDRA COMPLEX @netherfeildren
Din + lady reader who is conflicted in the Force and with herself. Walking a line of peace, destruction, violence, vengeance, love⊠and finds a deep and inexplicable connection in the Mandalorian.
THE DISTANCE @outercrasis
Din + Grogu + N1 joins loner pilotâs ship- large enough to carry the N1
đź EVERYTHING AND MORE on AO3
Din + working class lady tailor. Din is a reclusive suit and helmet wearing billionaire and richest man on Coruscant and has an eye and unlimited spending money for the tailor. While in the Star Wars universe, this is well after Mando series events if all the characters became corporate workers. This was really fun series to read (reading it gave me crazy tingle feelings like having a huge crush + first date (and Iâve been married for 13+ years and not into sugar daddy tropes đ))⊠New chapters have not been posted in a year đŹđ PLEASE come back!!!!
FOUR HOURS @split-spectrum
Reader accidentally borrows Mandoâs tools and for longer than she should. Then a threat shows up in the hangarâŠ
HURRICANE @oscarseyebrow
Din + lady reader / bounty / worked for and now running from Moff Gideon, special abilities and past, love growsâŠ
ICE COLD on AO3 @e-m-d-m
Din catches his quarry/reader and is shocked to discover your past connection⊠Din is protective/dom and reader is stubborn, compelling relationship builds, action loosely tied to threats in series, story goes in many unique directionsâŠ
IâLL BE HERE IN THE MORNING @spvce-cowboy
Din crash-lands to discover a siren song⊠medic/nanny companion turned lover with bumps in the road
đź IN THE DARK @coreychick
Din + lady love captive/bounty in place of Grogu. Really cool take on the series with more original concepts, action, wit, sarcasm, twists... Fun read- canât wait for more! đđ»
I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU @lahooozaherr
Din hired as bodyguard to a princess for senate gathering on Naboo and boy are they hitting it off⊠but sheâs in danger
LOVE AND WAR @inej-ruination-ghafa
Din + famous rebel with a famous brother đ
đź ROUGH DAY @no-droids
Din + nanny in a truly beautiful and steamy romance with stakes
SAFEST WITH YOU @604to647
Modern day. Youâre in line for your morning coffee and help an old lady out when an asshole customer makes a scene⊠and helping you is a tall stranger...
SECOND CHANCES @djarinmuse
Meet cute/idiots in love/medical emergency Din and artist reader over the course of 2 years on Coruscant. Reader struggles with depression after her motherâs death and cuts herself much more dramatically than intended with Dinâs vibro blade. After the incident they discuss what happened and Dinâs response was "This is not weakness, some fights are personal, that doesn't make them less of a struggle."⊠and there we have it folks. This story hooks you wonderfully right in! (Iâm only 2 chapters in and yep, itâs a winner)
THE SILVER LINING @theetherealbloom
Jedi/force sensitive + Din + saving Grogu from Navarro The Client/Imperials
STITCHES @djarinsbeskar
Grumpy, gruff, hardened Mandalorian Din + lady medic that is so hot it will burst into flames. Portions of series events, but takes off on its own action and adventures. This is not a fluffy sweet Din OMG
SUNSHINE @zialltops
Post Mandalorian series, Din settles on Navarro and enrolls Grogu in school. And falls for the teacher hard. Reader is a teacher with glasses who loves gardening⊠secret past. Din has a glorious breeding kink, possessive/protective, ongoing series.
SUPPLY RUN @thepascalofus
Din + reader who is hired as his assistant, feelings grow, ways they care for each other, but theyâre idiots in love đ Fun read, canât wait for more!
UNEARTHED @grippingbeskar
Queen of peaceful planet in need and King of Mandalore Din marry for mutual benefit, revenge, love
YOU WERE MARKED @handspunyarns
Din accepts an ambiguous bounty for an impressive sum. It takes him days out of the charted galaxy through hyperspace to an unknown planet with inhabitants ruled by men, secretive, and unlike anything Din had experienced before. He meets a woman living alone outside of the protected boundaries of the communityâŠ
COMPLETED SERIES
Go ahead and binge a whole series!
đź BE-ALL AND ENDOR @djarins-cyare On AO3
Din + near crash into loner woman on Endor with a brain and a past, exciting original adventures, slow burn, phenomenal writing and detail, should be published Iâd buy all the copies â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
BESKAR DOLL @justagalwhowrites
Din + ex Naboo handmaiden who is wanted by the Empire. Cargo to much, much more. So prolific and exciting! Slow burnâŠ
BLEED FOR ME @saradika
Vampire Din looking for a companionâŠ
EXTRASOLAR and INTRASOLAR @the-scandalorian
Taking place soon after Din takes Grogu back from the Empire, they are hiding on a backwater planet and get to know a waitress who dreams of leaving the planet behindâŠ
I ONLY SEE DAYLIGHT @millersdjarin
Heck of a decent human being Din (while still being formidable Mando) + lady hiding alone on a desolate planet from THEM. He & Grogu crash land nearby and they save each other⊠Other characters and locations appear as wellâŠ
KNIGHT IN BESKAR ARMOR @floral-force
Angsty Din + Princess of Naboo reader- Din works for the King who is readying the princess to take over the throne or marry for an alliance. During an important ball blaster fire breaks outâŠ
SET IN STONE @omgreally
Din takes a job transporting carbonite chambers, malfunctions happen and one unfreezes, blind and suffering from amnesia as to who she is or where she came fromâŠ
SOMEWHERE BEAUTIFUL @peetiespetals
Din + slave woman he saves from a bounty and tries to free only to discover she must stay with him⊠mysteries of her past slowly uncover
đź SUDDENLY @dilf-din
Din + new to town reader on Navarro. She opens a flower shop and Din melts for her. 4 part story and lovely romance.
TORMENT @djarinmuse
Din + Ellis/lady reader- each taken captive on the ring world/station Glavis. It quickly becomes clear they are in deep trouble⊠read content warnings
THE WORLD IS LIGHT, EMBODIED @davnittbraes
Loner ex slave looking for home in the stars. Stumbles upon Din + Grogu and adventures begin. Assisting Din in finding the Jedi, falling in loveâŠ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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@coreychick sent me the most gorgeous handcrafted stickers and card and Iâm so so grateful that lil ole me won the giveaway đ go check her out, her fic is literally my all time fav Din fic and her work is so amazing, it deserves all the love in the world!
Iâm gonna show my appreciation by rereading and reblogging my all time fave chapter where the character development and world building is so immense, itâs like itâs straight out of the writers room (prestrike ofc)
Part of the In the Dark Series: 18+ Smut & Story /Romance and Adventure Din X Fem!Reader Insert
Just a reminder, I DO NOT post specific trigger warnings, so if you have triggers, this may not be a story for you. Read at your own risk.
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Today feels different from the hundred days before it. An overwhelming feeling that something monumental is impending, gnaws at your senses. Indecision is a constant tick in your brain, one that looms over you like a dark cloud.
Pershing is noticeably absent from your daily schedule of pokes and prods. Today, the medical droids are administering the usual cocktails and vitamin injections under the watchful eye of several storm troopers.
âWhereâs the doctor?â you ask the medi-droid.
âDr. Pershing is currently unavailable. Do not worry. Dr. Pershing has left explicit instructions on your medical protocols, and we are more than qualified to see to your care.â it says, in its most reassuring droid tone.
âWhat could be more important than this? Did the doc find someone better to torture?â
âThe results from donor testing have arrived. Doctor Pershing was sent to retrieve the most favorable candidate for your breeding trials.â
Breeding trials. Your stomach plummets like a broken lift, falling out from under your feet.
So, this is it? Times up.
Your heart begins to pound faster, while at the same time, your soul goes numb.
âWhoâs the lucky winner?â you ask. Images of both men flash through your mind. The face of one, the intimidating mask of the other. Granted, neither would be welcome, but the masked man had left haunting chills over your skin for days after your introduction.
âDr. Pershing was sent to retrieve â--â
âHey medic, shut your trap and finish your job before I rip out your voice box and rearrange your circuits,â one of the troopers threatens.
The medi-droid does a double take, and thinking better of it, doesnât finish its sentence.
Doesn't matter much anyhow. What it does mean, is that you have a choice to make, and you have to make it now. Dr. Pershingâs absence has provided you with a unique opportunity. The medi-droid had prepared several medical trays lined with every possible tool it might need. Only an armâs length away, lay a syringe full of the one you recognized as the paralytic. Hell, even if you were wrong, you could empty the syringe and use it to deliver an air bubble through the vein. While neither a paralyzed heart, not an air embolism sounded like your idea of a good time, the pain couldnât be any worse than the torture you had already endured on this ship. And the end result would mean that Gideon would fail. You would be dead, but he wouldnât be able to continue this twisted experimentâŠ.until he finds someone else.
âHow much longer?â One trooper asks the medi-droid. âOne more round.â it replies, sticking the last plunger into your bicep. âGo report that we are almost done.â he directs his fellow two troopers. They shuffle out the door the way troopers tend to do, their plastics thumping in succession.
Only one trooper left, you can do this.
The lone trooper raises his blaster in your direction, on edge as he waits for his comrades to return. His head swivels back and forth between you and the door.
Not yet. Wait for it.
âHurry up and finish,â he commands the medi-droid.
âAlmost finished.â The droid says, removing the last plunger from your arm.
A tiny drop of blood wells to the surface of your skin.
âCan I get a bandage?â you ask the droid, calmly.
The droid turns away, to retrieve a sterile wipe and bandage from one of the trays. Your heart pounds out of your chest as you wait. The trooper looks away, at the empty doorway. Your hand snaps out, plucking the syringe from the tray. You quickly tuck it up your sleeve- no easy task when your hands are in binders. Itâs out of sight, just as the trooperâs helmet turns once again, the clanking of armor signaling their return.
âTheyâre informed and waiting.â the trooper announces.
âLetâs go!â the impatient one says, yanking you by the other arm, off the table, before the medi-droid has time to place the small cotton swab on your skin.
It doesnât escape your attention that youâre headed in the opposite direction, away from your cell. âWhereâre you taking me?â you ask, but none answer. Itâs just as well. Thoughts begin to race through your mind. This is it. You have a decision to make.
You silently check the position of the syringe, concealed beneath your sleeve. Itâs there- if the situation becomes more than you can handleâŠ.itâs a last resort, but itâs there. Your thoughts begin to drift, shifting to the one sole comfort youâve found on this cursed ship.
Days had passed since Gideon had delivered Mandoâs message. At first, the decision of whether or not to play the communication a second time or not, warred in your mind. You didnât want them to see how much it meant to you- how much he means to you. And, they were always watching.
You had tried to bluff your way through the obvious, tried to convince Gideon that his perceptions were way off, that the Mandalorian was just another enemy on a different day of the week. But letâs face it. He was two steps ahead with everything. And even if you had managed to plant the smallest seed of doubt in his mind, Mandoâs message had confirmed everything he needed to know.
She means more to me, than you will ever know.
His voice played over and over in your mind, until eventually, it wasnât enough. The need to hear him, to see him again, trumped your pride. Over these last days, you had played Mandoâs message againâŠ..and againâŠ.and again. Maybe a hundred times by now. And of course, itâs exactly what Gideon wanted, because he was right. It felt like a reason to keep fighting.
So lost in thoughts of Mando, you scarcely realized you were heading for a part of the ship you had never been to before. You make a concentrated effort to remain calm and collected on the outside, despite the thundering in your heart as you come to a stop in front of large doors. They woosh open and the two troopers in front of you split away to reveal a large conference room. Itâs dark, illuminated only by several patterned light panels on the wall, and a few glowing control screens. There's a large oval shaped table in the center, the surface- a pristine black glass, void of even a single smudged fingerprint. Around the table, several sets of familiar eyes stare silently back at you. The energy of the room feels dark and heavy, like a tangible weight pushing down on your very being.
The trooper behind you jams the tip of his blaster between your shoulder blades, nudging you further into the room. A couple of officers, Moff Gideon, and Pershing, occupy the outlying seats, but itâs the cold, dead stare of a black mask, seated at the center of the table that has your blood running cold.
Everyone rises from the table- everyone but the man in the black mask- he leans back in his seat, kicking his boots up onto the table. The fact that he sits at the head of the table and not Gideon, is curious, but it also confirms what youâve known all along. There is always someone more powerful, and the empire is an endless line of power-hungry thieves, lying in wait for their turn to take something from you.
Gideon approaches you, his officers falling in line, close behind.
âI hear youâve been enjoying the message from our mutual friend, seems you like to play it over and over.â he says, a hint of taunting in his voice. You look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking into your eyes and seeing how his words sting. âI watched it myself a few times.â he admits casually.
Heâs goading, trying to get a reaction from you. You give him nothing, though your chest rises and falls as you struggle to maintain even breaths. âOfficer Ryn, remind me later, I must send a thank you message to the Mandalorian, for delivering her to me, a second time.â
Your anger continues to rise, but you remain quiet. The fight is still to come, and it will be of no use to waste your energy on a verbal sparring match with Gideon- not when the man in the black mask is staring you down.
âYour silent resolve tells me that you understand the inevitability of your situation, implicitly. Nevertheless, it bears repeating; Your cooperation is neither demanded, nor is it necessary. Either way, I will get what I want. It merely informs me on how to proceed with you in the future, and despite what Dr. Pershing thinks, I am not convinced your usefulness exists beyond the delivery of my future asset. So, you may want to consider that when you have a choice to make, and you are weighing violence over compliance. Because soon, the tables will turn, and it will be you, who is wanting something I have.â
At the implication, your eyes raise to meet his, and you can see he means every word he just said. With a satisfied smirk, he proceeds to exit the room, spouting off directives to his underlings. The room empties, leaving the masked man at the table. Pershing is the last to leave, hanging back until the doors close. He looks nervous and remorseful, and tears begin to well in your eyes at the sting of betrayal you feel towards him. Heâs weak, a puppet too blinded by the power of creation to do the right thing. âHere, let me give you this.â he says, holding out his palm.
âWhat is it?â
âTwilight,â he says, revealing yet another syringe. âItâs a sedative. Youâll be in an altered state of consciousness, but you wonât feel anything. Youâll likely not even remember it happening.â
And you wonât be able to fight.
You look straight into his eyes. âYouâre not like them- youâre worse. Because you know this is wrong, and yet you do it anyway.â
âPlease, take it,â he pleads. You press your lips together and turn your chin away, refusing to spare his weakness another second of your time.
âLeave.â you say.
Pershingâs face looks anguished, his shoulders deflating as he slowly leaves the room. You hear the blast doors close behind you. Now itâs just you and him- the Sith who has the prestigious appointment of sperm donor.
Youâre terrified but find the courage to take steps toward the table.
âSit.â he commands, peeling his gloves from his fingers, one digit at a time and dropping them on the table. You do as he says, choosing the chair furthest away, at the opposite end. He studies you for a moment, before making a small gesturing wave with his hand. Your binders fall loose, clanking onto the table like a dead weight.
âNo need for obstructions, donât you agree?â His modulated voice is portentous, it looms like a dark shadow, echoing the chill in the room.
You swallow hard, taking in his casual appearance. The boots on the table, his fingers casually entwined over his gut as he leans back in the chair- all at opposition with the menacing fear his physical appearance commands, as well as the seriousness of the room. He is a predator, and you are his prey. A plaything of little significance and right now he is toying with you. A little entertainment before he feasts.
âSo, youâre the victor I see. Tell me, does that mean you are a more powerful Sith, or just that you had faster swimmers?â
He chuckles out loud, âAhhh, there it is. Thereâs the cutting tongue I was so hoping for. You had me worried for a moment. Thought maybe you had given up.â
âYou must be powerful if Pershing chose you.â
âThat little bladderweasel doesnât have the slightest comprehension of what real power looks like. He fails to realize, our biggest strengths cannot be measured by gadgets with little blinking lights.â
âWhat kind of power?â
âPower like you and I have.â
âAnd yet, youâre here, just as I am. To do Gideonâs bidding.â
âIs that what you think? That I am here to do his bidding?â
âIt certainly seems that way to me. You submit to his little tests, youâll carry out his dirty work, and you would let him take your offspring, free to do with it what he will?â
He lowers his boots to the floor and leans forward, staring at you with the cold plastic. âGideon is barely worth notice. I donât care about any of those things. Thatâs not why I am here.â
You blink twice, trying to puzzle out his motives, but nothing holds water. Sensing your thoughts, he fills in the blanks.
âIâm here for youâŠâŠto break you.â
With those words, you know the game has changed. There are greedy people, cruel people, power-hungry people in this galaxy, of course. But seeing someone who wants to hurt others simply because they can, because they are little more than pure evil, is something altogether different. You canât reason with unreasonable people. Your heart stutters as you consider the small weight hidden in the folds of your sleeve.
No. You have to fight. Din would want you to fight.
As if he can read the direction of your thoughts, he continues.
âJust as you watched video of your Mandalorian over and over, I watched video of you." The thought that this man has been watching you in any sense, sickens your stomach. "Did you know that a powerful Jedi, would succumb to a dozen full strength lashes from a shock-whip? A powerful Sith- maybe double that? But youâŠ. you withstood thirty-six lashes on a lethal setting. Thirty-six. Do you know, how I know? Because I counted. Each and every time the cord struck your flesh, my hand stroked my own. Iâve never been more turned on than I was watching you hold out. Iâve never seen anything like it.â
Your stomach turns, nausea threatening to bubble over. Heâs truly sick in the head.
âAre you saying that I am more powerful than you?â
Amused by the direction of your question, his tone becomes one of pleasure.
âNo. All Sith are different, like all jedi are different. Some have gifts others will never carry. Some are stronger in some areas, weaker in others. There is no simple formula for weighing one against another. What you need is a Master.â
âBut I am no Sith.â
âThis is true. But that can change, with time and training. Certainly, you are no Jedi.â
âHow do you know? Whatâs the difference?â
âJedi will ask you to give up the things that are the most important to you.â
An image of your Fatherâs face flashes through your mind in a distorted memory- gone in a blink. He had given up his family, a sacrifice for something you have yet to understand.
âAnd what would the Sith ask of me?â
âWe can give you the means to protect those things, at all costs.â
So, is that what it comes down to? Jedi will sacrifice the ones they love to save the galaxy, while Sith will slaughter the galaxy to save the ones they love? Yes, morality says there is a clear answer, but is it wrong to at least take a moment and consider the alternative? What would you do to save Din? Instinct says, anything it takes. This canât be it; this canât be the way.
âAll I know is that if you are the best representation of what the Sith has to offer, I want no part of it.â
âI never said I was the best. I said I was here to break you. Now stand up and take off your clothes.â
Adrenaline hijacks your veins. Your brain rushes to formulate a plan, but all attempts come up empty. Youâre weaponless, and your opponent has likely mastered his abilities, none of which you are privy to. You hesitate to obey, and clearly not one for patience, he takes matters into his own hands.
Every muscle in your body tenses as you are frozen by an invisible force that lifts you off the ground. You can do nothing more than breathe as every limb in your body is paralyzed in place, succumbing to the pressure of someone elseâs will. The feeling of helplessness leads to overwhelming frustration as your body is imprisoned by this unseen force. You hover above the table until you are slowly pulled forward, your toes dragging along the smooth glass of the tabletop. When you hover just beyond his reach, the pressure mounts, forcing you down on your knees before him. You breathe between clenched teeth as you struggle to fight back, but your limbs are no longer under your control, helpless to do anything but obey his silent command. The feeling is sickening.
He reaches out to stroke your cheek. You bear it, unable to flinch away. âTell me pet, does the Mandalorian take off his mask for you? Because I donât think I can achieve full satisfaction without gazing upon you with my own eyes.â
You donât respond, stunned and disheartened that he has any knowledge of whatâs between you and Mando.
He studies you a moment longer, his head tilting to the side.
âYouâve never seen his face. Hmmm.â He says it factually. Maker, is he able to read minds too?
The thought of him seeing into your mind, your deepest most personal thoughts is more violating than anything he plans to do with your body.
âTell you whatâŠ.â he says, reaching over his shoulder. He unclips the double ended vibro-blade strapped to his back and tosses it to the floor with a loud clunk. Then, his thumbs slip to the underside of his mask, as he pulls off the helmet to reveal his face. Heâs mid-forties, maybe older, with medium brownish hair cut short and a thick beard that matches. His eyes are a disarming gray and bisected by a wicked looking scar that starts in the center of his forehead and runs down the bridge of his nose before jogging under his left eye- He's seen many a battle. His brows are thick and pinched with an expression you donât understand.
â...If you want to imagine Iâm the Mandalorian, to make this easier on you, I wonât be offended. Now be a good little pet, and fight back, for me.â
All at once, you feel the imposing force give way as he drops his powers in favor of physical force instead. Your arms fly out landing several blows to his face before he easily pins both of your wrists into one of his hands. Your head springs forward, crashing your skull into his nose. You hear a nasty crunch sound that precedes a stream of blood that oozes out of his nose. The act is effective, but it also sends a shooting pain through your head as well. He throws out his shield, leaving you immobile once again. He uses his free hand to wipe the blood leaking from his nose and stares down at it, surprised. A smile spreads across his lips.
âThatâs right pet, show me those claws of yours.â
This time, when youâre lifted up off the table, it feels as if itâs by your neck. A strangling sensation, like two hands wringing your neck, cuts off your air- despite the fact that heâs not even touching you. Your own hands fly to your neck, trying desperately to peel away the invisible force cutting off your air supply. Stars and black spots dot your vision until you fall like an anvil back to the tabletop. You choke and sputter, keeling to your side as you gasp in an attempt to reinflate your lungs. Before you can recover, youâre rolled to your stomach, and yanked back until your legs dangle off the table. The invisible force shifts, pinning your hands to the table- as if they are cemented in place.
Thereâs a tugging at the hem of your shirt, followed by the violent ripping sound of the fabric being split up the middle. He pulls the two flaps he has created off to the sides, revealing the surface of your back to him.
Your breathing is erratic, small clouds of breath fogging the black surface of the table as your cheek presses against the glass. He lovingly begins tracing the various scar lines, the thin streaks of raised skin, slightly off-color than the rest of your skin, that fork out like lightning over your back. You have yet to see them with your own eyes- a mirror not being one of the priorities in a prison cell- but you had traced the few that you could reach, once Pershing declared you âhealedâ.
âSo beautiful.â he says, running the pad of his finger over the raised skin. He leans closer and you can feel the press of his erection against your backside. Heâs literally getting off on this.
His voice lowers to a whisper as he hovers just over your ear.
âIt may bring you some comfort to know that he suffered greatly for what he did to you.â
âWhâŠwhat? Who?â
âThe officer that did this. I may have enjoyed watching, but that man didnât deserve to be alone in a room with one such as you. At the earliest opportunity, I made sure he understood that. It should please you to know that he wept like a baby, before pissing himself rotten and begging for release. In the end, on the same setting he gave you, he only lived through two lashes. Nevertheless, he received thirty-six.â
Pershing said Officer Dickhead had been punished, but you had no idea. Immediately, you alight on a strategy.
âYou did that for me?â
âI did it for us both.â
âYouâre right, that does bring me some comfort.â You let your body go lax, let the fight against his shield, wither away.
He runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. It takes every ounce of strength you have in you, not to visibly heave or show your revulsion.
âKiss me.â you say, taking him by surprise.
âWhat?â
âKiss me. Maybe youâre right. Maybe if I close my eyes and imagineâŠ, maybe it wonât be so bad.â
Heâs clearly thrown off, not expecting this turn in conversation. He tries to work out your plan, finding absolutely no threat, because he knows without a doubt, that he easily wields his power over you. Curious to see where this is going, and even more aroused by the possibility of you reciprocating, he lets up on his hold, allowing you to turn over. You keep your movements small and steady- apprehensive even, allowing him to perceive no threat. The smile on his face says he sees it for what it is- a ruse of some sort, though he is willing to play along, for nothing more than the sheer entertainment of it all.
He leans forward, arms braced on either side of your body, as he lowers his mouth to yours. You close your eyes and focus on the tiny ball of light that roots itself in the pit of your stomach. It starts to spin, gathering speed and mass as his lips press against your own. Tentatively, you begin to kiss back, opening wider for him when his tongue breaks the seal of your lips. You ignore the physical sensation and focus intensity, as it begins to grow, mirrored by the expansion of power flooding your veins. You increase your concentration, while letting a seductive moan slip out, as the power welling inside begins to coil like a spring. Your soft moan urges him deeper.
Heâs wary, unsure what youâre playing at, but enjoying it, nonetheless. He keeps your hands pinned above your head with his invisible influence. His own hand moves to your neck, ready to squeeze the life out of you, if need be. But the possibility that you might be having a genuine reaction to him, is too much to resist.
âOpen your eyes and kiss me like that.â Itâs a test. He wants to be the one youâre thinking of, he wants to know that he is the one eliciting these responses from you- not some figment of your imagination. So, you do. You open your eyes and stare directly into those probing gray depths and kiss him like your life depends on it- because it does.
The second you feel the grip on your neck ease, you unleash a maelstrom of power that flashes out like a tidal wave. His body is ripped from atop yours and sent sailing back until it slams into the wall behind. His body crashes, impaling itself into the now broken light panels. Sparks flitter as the lights sputter off and on, illuminating the silhouette of his massive frame. You roll off the table and come to a hard stop as your body meets the floor. Nausea roils as your limbs struggle to find purchase on the slick floor. You didnât pass out but failed to leave yourself enough energy to escape the room on two feet. You begin to crawl toward the door, praying to the maker that your blast was enough to knock him out cold. The door feels lightyears away, and youâre not sure where youâll go even if you make it, but you have to try.
Wishful thinking is shattered, when two meaty hands grip you by the ankle, flipping you onto your back. Your blast drained you of all energy, and it simply wasnât enough to put this mad dog down for more than a brief moment. Thereâs no strength left in your body to fight back when your boots and pants are pulled free of your body. This is it, and you wasted everything you had on one blow, doing little more than redecorating the room.
âThatâs a good pet.â he says, eliminating the barrier of his own pants in the process.
âThatâs why I chose the war room for our first time, because I knew youâd give as good as you get- almost forgot who I was dealing with for a moment.â
Your body is too weak to fight, depleted of all working muscle. Even your brain struggles to stay awake as your head swims. âNow pet, itâs your turn to remember, and Iâm going to leave you with a piece of me youâll never be able to forget.â Too weak even to cry, your heart goes numb as he runs his fingers over you, testing your entrance.
âAny last negotiations before we begin? Or did you completely waste yourself on that little show back there?â
Your silence is all the answer he needs.
âTsk tsk, such a waste. Surely you have something more for me?â
Mustering every ounce of lifeforce you have left, you tilt your head forward and spit in his face.
Heâs visibly irritated at first, but smiles as he wipes his hand, sweeping up the spittle on his cheek.
âAhh, just what we needed.â he says, smearing your own saliva over your entrance.
Taking himself in hand, he lines himself up, with one hand while gripping your throat with the other. Sirens begin to wail, lights flashing around the perimeter of the room- their warning akin to the death cry of a purrgil whale. He looks around, angered by the ill-timed disruption, deciding what course to take. The communicator on his forearm alights- a perturbed Gideon on the other end of the audio.
âAre you finished? We could use your assistance below. Thereâs a convoy attempting to board.â
He stares back at you with those vivid gray eyes, silently debating what course of action to take. Dropping his dick, he holds down the communicator to answer back.
âYouâre a fucking Moff. Since when are a few pirates a threat to this ship? Handle it yourself or use the fucking dark troopers, thatâs what theyâre there for isnât it?â He rips off the communicator, tossing it across the room as he stares down at you. With the distraction, you can feel the pressure of his force loosen on your arms.
âTime to make a baby then, innit?â
Taking himself back in hand with a few strokes, he resumes his grip on your neck, meant to hold you in place. Your hands seize on his plated forearms in an attempt to pry him loose- to no avail. He doesnât budge an inch. A distinctive buzzing sound ignites, rising in pitch, followed by the static crackle of electricity just as a luminous red light protrudes out from the center of his chest, inches above your face. He stares down at it in confusion before looking back to you for the answer. His grip on your neck loosens, just as the blade retracts, with another whirring sound. All light fades from his eyes as the dead weight of his body falls onto your chest. You struggle to throw him off until it seemingly disappears as his lifeless corpse is tossed aside to reveal the other Sith- the one who insisted on bringing you food and clothes.
âIâm sorry I wasnât here sooner.â he says, slowly removing his hood to reveal his face.
He holds out his hand for you to take. You ignore it as your whole body wracks with a shiver, processing everything that just happened.
âItâs ok, Iâm not here to hurt you, Iâm going to get you out of here.â
With no other choice, you make the decision to trust him- letting him take your hand. He pulls you up into a sitting position, as you scramble to find your discarded clothes. He hands you your pants, before turning away to offer you privacy, kicking your boots toward you at the same time. With no strength to stand, you thread your feet into the legs, and lay back on the floor in an attempt to shimmy them up your body. The maneuvering is taxing. Hearing your struggle, he comes down on bended knee at your side.
âLet me help you with this?â he asks.
You nod your head yes, aware that heâs likely already seen everything there was to see anyway. He seems decent enough, and if he had any intentions on picking up where the other guy left off, getting your pants back on wouldnât be priority number one.
Using your feet as leverage against the floor, you lift your bottom so he can tug your pants up for you. Before you can say a word, heâs already putting your feet into your boots and tying up the laces.
âCan you walk? We need to move quickly.â He removes his cape, throwing it around your shoulders.
âMaybe, I donât know.â
You attempt to stand up, but your knees are too weak to hold you up and your legs give out. He catches you before you hit the ground, scooping you up into his arms.
âYouâre going to have to trust me."Â
âWhy are you helping me? Youâre a Sith, aren't you? Isnât this treason to the Empire?
âI was once, a long time ago. Now- Iâm not really sure what I am.â
Looping an arm around his neck, you hold on as he walks out of the blast doors.
âI donât really know what I am either.â you admit.
"Look whipped.â he says. Easy enough. Whatever the fine line between awake and passed out was, that's where you currently resided.Â
The sirens continue to blast, echoing down the gangway. Several troopers pass, assuming heâs delivering the injured prisoner back to her cell. He walks with intent, daring any of them to question what heâs doing.
âAre the sirens your doing?â
âNo, actually. Just a fortuitous distraction. Gideon has many enemies and weâre taking advantage of it.â He proceeds to walk down the corridor.
âI donât understand, if youâre no longer Sith, then what are you doing here?â
âI guess you could say, the light called me back some time ago, but I found myself in a rather advantageous position. It was a rare opportunity to have someone on this inside. For the past three years, Iâve been infiltrating the Dark Trooper program, readying to take it down. All roads have led to Gideon, and when I received an invitation to his ship, it seemed like it was finally going to happen. I wasnât expecting to find you here.â
Light and Dark. Sith and Jedi. It was all so confusing.
âSo, whatâs the plan exactly?â
âGideonâs dealing with a breach. While he does that, weâll simply head down to my ship. If weâre stopped along the way, Iâll say Iâm âprotecting the vesselâ from enemy threat.â
âSo, just walk right out the back door, in plain sight? I admire your spirit. How long do we have before theyâll notice?â
Another squad of troopers passes by in a rush, a few turning their heads. When theyâre no longer in earshot, he replies.
âNot long. Though a band of Mandalorian mercenaries are formidable, if Gideon deploys the Dark Troopers, theyâll have the entire ship locked down in a matter of minutes. We need to get to my ship beforeâŠâ
âWait! Mandalorians have boarded the ship?â
âYes.â
âStop! We have to stop. Theyâre here for me!â
âYouâre Mandalorian?â
âNo. Iâm not. Iâm⊠Heâs myâŠ.weâreâŠâ You struggle to find the right words. You pull out Mandoâs pendant from under the collar of your shirt and show it to him.
âHeâs come for me,â you say. His blue eyes stare back at you, and comprehension takes hold. He nods. âIâll take you to him.â
âNo! You canât. You canât let them see you hand me over to them. Theyâll know youâve deceived them- theyâll know youâve turned sides.â
âGideon will find out anyway. If I take you to my ship and we donât return, heâll know I helped you escape.â Something about him speaks to you, and you suddenly realize what it is- He reminds you of your brother, and your heart aches all the more for it.
âYou canât give up everything- three years of this, for me. He needs to be stopped.â
âWhat do you suggest? There is already video of me walking down these halls with you in my arms.â
âIs there surveillance in the war room? Of what happened?â
He thinks. âI donât believe so. Gideon would want all conversations in that room kept strictly confidential- no recording devices permitted.â
âThen Gideon will think I did it, you can fill in the blanks later. Iâll take you out too! Make it look like I escaped on my own.â
âNo offense, but you canât even walk. How do you plan to make this look convincing?â
Itâs true. Only moments ago, you couldnât even stand on your own. But knowing that Mando is here- here for you. That he somehow found you, like he promised he always would. That he somehow managed the impossible- it lights a new fire in your belly. Your sole purpose is to get to Mando, no matter what it takes.
You take a deep breath. âYouâre going to have to trust me.â you say, repeating his words back to him.
You wait four or five seconds, until he walks directly under a light, where surveillance will clearly capture every move. Your fist flies out and slams into the fleshy spot just below his shoulder. By all appearances, itâs a weak punch, too feeble to even cause him to flinch. His brows knit together when he sees your thumb press down, before yanking your hand away to reveal a now-empty syringe. His head whips back to you, eyes full of question and then alight with a brief second of- admiration? His knees drop to the floor with a loud thud, his body giving way to paralyzed muscle. A second later, you tumble out of his arms as he comes to land headfirst, flat on his chest.
The abrupt fall was harsh, temporarily jarring your head. All the better to make this convincing.
You crawl back to his frozen form, where eyes that are still full of life stare back at you. His eyes look down at his side and back to you. He repeats the eye movement again. You search his person, until you find the hilt of the saber secured to his belt and take it. Though sirens are blaring, you canât risk mouthing a âThank youâ, so you stare back and hope the look in your eyes conveys everything you want to say. He blinks once, and you take that as a sign that he does. You make a mental note to pray to the maker that your paths will cross again one day, and you might be able to thank him for real. But for now, you say a silent âthank youâ followed by âI am so sorry for thisâ, before standing on your feet and delivering him a swift kick to the gut; Before stumbling your way down the corridor on your own.
When the stomping of feet signal storm troopers are coming, you duck into an alcove to take cover. Closing your eyes, you press the hilt of the unlit saber to your forehead and wonder how it got to this point. You're in so far over your head. You take a deep breath and remember whatâs riding on this. Din is here. Heâs so close, you can feel it. All you need to do is get to him. Nothing else matters- not anything that happened before, not anything that happens after. All that matters is him.
You round a corner and make your way through two more halls undetected. You have no idea where to find Din, youâre both essentially trying to find each other in a maze. Logic says heâll look for you in the prisoner cell, and since youâve memorized the path to and fro, it makes sense to head back in that direction.
You enter a large open corridor. A tight gangway stretches across the expanse, connecting one side to the other. Thereâs a sixty foot drop on either side, with an open view of space beneath and at the sides. Itâs eerie as hell, because once youâre out on the platform, thereâs nowhere to hide. You move forward cautiously, heart pounding. When youâre about halfway across, two troopers jump out from the sides of the entryway, blocking your path. You ignite the lightsaber, holding it outward from your body. It comes to life with an invigorating electric hum. Itâs terrifying- you have zero training with this weapon and the chances of you hurting yourself with it are probably pretty good; but at the same time, it makes you feel powerful and kinda badass too.
As soon as the troopers see the saber, one fires off a round from his blaster, in your direction. Sensing the path of trajectory, you lean your head back, narrowly missing impact. The beam fires past, hitting the wall behind you and sending sparks arching away from the now broken light panel. Whoa.
âWhat in the hell do you think youâre doing?!â you shout.
The two troopers look at each other in question before looking back at you.
âThat shot totally could have killed me! I donât think youâre supposed to do that. Wouldn't Moff Gideon be really ticked off if you murdered his war prize?â
They look at each other again.
âHellllooo? Sacred Vessel here. VâŠIâŠP prisoner, mean anything to you?â
They stand a little more upright, loosening their aim. One casually slaps the other on his chest plate.
âBro, sheâs right. Did you hear what happened to that one guy? He got executed for damaging the goods and he was just following orders.â
You edge closer as they continue their conversation.
âNah, man. Thatâs just a rumor. He probably just got transferred.â
âNuh uh, TK-737 saw it with his own eyes. Said he nearly yacked in his helmet because it was gruesome. Had to do body disposal.â
âNo way.â
âI swear man. Sheâs telling the truth.â
âThanks man, you probably saved my life.â
âBetter set blasters to âstunâ.â
In unison, they move to change the setting on their blasters. Not waiting, you seize the opportunity and charge. Technique and training be damned- you have neither. You swing your arm in wide arcs, paying mind only to not injure yourself in the process. Loud grunts and groans precede bodies of plastoid falling to the ground.
But thereâs no time to revel in your victory, because where there is one trooper, there is surely more, and true to form, replacements come out from the recesses. You continue your rampage, blocking and even deflecting blasts back into bodies. They file in from both sides now and just as you are starting to feel confident, your arms begin to tire. You have to hold the hilt with two hands now, which means thereâs far less power behind each swing. You tell yourself itâs a lethal weapon, and all you have to do is touch them with it. Donât worry about cutting all the way through, focus on their weakest spots, as a graze across the neck or an artery is surely enough.
Bodies continue to fall and itâs a whirlwind of spins and plunges. Your body takes over, guided by feeling. Youâre like a feral animal, fueled by a burst of energy, but eventually, slowly, the power inside begins to fade and you worry that thereâs no end in sight. The troopers swarm like ants from a disturbed ant hill.
You spin around in a full three-sixty, attempting to take out anyone within arms reach. The first wave topples like dominoes, sending some of the outer ranks tumbling off the side of the platform. Just as youâre about to start pushing through, they drop aim on their weapons and begin a slow, quiet retreat.
Your chest is heaving with the exertion, your mind in doubt as you watch them step back. It could only mean one thing, and suspicions are confirmed when you hear a slow clapping echo off the walls from behind you.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
âVery Impressive. Though it appears the exorbitant amount of energy you spent executing our donor, has left you depleted. Look at you. You hardly have the strength to hold that weapon.â
You look down and see your arm is beginning to tremble with fatigue. You retract the saber, allowing your arm to rest.
âAnd yet, here I amâŠstill standing.â
âIndeed. Though I fear not for long. Tell me, did Jax at least carry out his task before you ran him through? Or are we going to have to reschedule for another day?â
Tired of the conversation, you utter a simple and straight forward, âFuck. You.â
âNo, I think Iâll get someone else to do that for me. In the meantime, I suggest you toss your weapon aside and come with me.â
âWhy would I ever?â
âBecause if you do not, I will take it by force anyway. But if you do, then perhaps I will find it in my heart to take the Mandalorian on board into custody, instead of simply disposing of him right now. So, whatâll be?â
You swallow hard. Youâd do anything for DinâŠbut Gideon is a liar, and you canât trust a word he says. You re-ignite the light saber.
âVery well.â Gideon says, igniting the blade he carries on his own belt. He activates his comms and orders, âActivate the dark troopers.â
âNooo!â you scream with rage, charging toward Gideon. You slash through the air, your weapon arching downward. He easily blocks the strike, stepping forward with a swing of his own. The effort to block it sends you stumbling backward. He continues to push forward, calmly delivering blow after blow as you struggle to maintain your footing. Force power or not, he has obviously spent many hours practicing with his weapon. His swings are slow- almost casual, but each hit is powerful. Thereâs a cool confidence written on his face, as he knows heâs got you beaten. You try again to outswing him and deliver one blow- just one is all you need. When your right arm grows to weary, you switch hands- and the bastard smiles.
You swing wide, and a shock reverberates up your arm. Time slows down as you witness the glow of the saber in your hand go whirling through the air. It falls over the side of the platform and disappears below. As you watch, and your gut is hit with the terrible knowledge of the loss, Gideon uses the hilt of his weapon to deliver a stunning blow to the temple.
Two troopers drag you down the hall. You think you hear Gideon ask, âWhere is he?â
âHeaded your way.â The staticky voice over the comm replies.
Youâre dumped onto the floor of your cell, landing on your knees, facing the doorway.
âStand guard outside the door.â Gideon commands the two troopers. They quickly exit, the door closing behind them as Gideon curiously remains at your side.
âGive me visual surveillance,â you hear him say.
A projection from the ceiling shines down, putting several digital screens in front of him. On each, flickering security video shows a live feed of what is happening elsewhere on the ship. On one, you notice a band of Mandalorians, with several others, cutting their way through the corridors. On the second, video of the dark troopers booting up. Their systems come online as they prepare to launch their deadly assault. On the lastâŠ. Mando.
Your eyes are fixated on the lethal killing machine wearing Mandalorian armor. He charges through the halls, a man on a mission with one singular motivation. To get to you. He easily dispatches every storm trooper he encounters, frequently without even having to look. Blasts are fired, sent ricocheting off his armor. He doesnât stutter one step. Heâs an unstoppable machine, truly magnificent to behold- and heâs coming for you.
Your soul momentarily alights with hope, until you look back at the screen with the dark troopers. They fall into formation and begin marching toward the exit of the antechamber. Your breath hitches as Mando beelines for the control panel, just as the doors begin to open. He slams in a key and smashes a button, causing the blast doors to close, but not before a single dark trooper is able to pry himself through.
Battle ensues, and Gideon and you both watch with rapt gaze, to see who the victor will be. The machine is formidable, quickly rallying from all of Mandoâs offenses. The remaining dark troopers pound on the blast doors, the integrity ready to buckle under the pressure. If even one more gets through, you donât think your Mandalorian will survive. You look away when the machine begins to hammer at Mandoâs helmet- each subsequent impact driving his skull further into the wall, encasing him in the surrounding metal. The smile on Gideonâs face is one of smug victory- until Mando surprises the both of you by igniting fire from his vambrace. The machine steps back, initiating its fire suppression system. Mando takes advantage of the delay and spears the droid through the neck, leveraging its head off with a spray of electric sparks.
Not skipping a beat, he charges for the control panel again and triggers the tunnel evacuation. The troopers are sucked into the vacuum of space.
Your heart sings victorious. "Heâs coming for you next, Gideon.â you say.Â
âExcept I hold all the cards, donât I?â he says, yanking your head back with a death grip on the hair at your scalp. He ignites his saber, letting it hover deathly close to your neck. Mando rounds the corner, where you recognize the outside door of your cell. He stabs one guard clean through his chest with his long spear before jerking around to snap the others neck. The security feeds disappear, just as the doors open to reveal your Mandalorian.
He freezes in place at the sight of you on your knees, Gideonâs dark weapon threatening your life within a few inches. You want to cry at the sight of him but hold back all tears. Something is about to happen, and you donât know what. Youâre certain that Mandoâs the more capable warrior, but Gideonâs got you, quite literally backed into a corner.
Mando steps into the room, blaster trained on Gideon.
âDrop the blaster, slowly.â Gideon orders.
Mando does it, and your heart breaks that Mandoâs not willing to risk you in any way. He kicks his blaster away toward the corner.
âGive her to me.â he says.
âSheâs just fine where she is.â Gideon waves the sword back and forth in front of your neck, taunting Mando.
âMesmerizing, isnât it?â Gideon launches into a monologue about the saber, and someone helping Mando- apparently, they had already taken control of the bridge. You listen, but stare back at Mando, hoping, pleading with the Maker that youâll be walking out of here together. Gideon continues to ramble on, revealing that whoever wields the weapon has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne- a powerful bartering piece indeed. Mando stares back at you.
You finally chime in, âI know baby, he sure does like to hear himself talk, doesnât he?â you smile.
âYou keep it. I just want my girl.â
Gideon looks between you and the saber.
âVery well. I have everything I need from her. All I wanted was to study her. Sheâs been gifted with very rare properties that have the potential to bring order to the galaxy.â
You indicate with the slightest nod of your head, that Gideon is full of shit, but refrain from shouting the truth. Gideonâs beaten- he knows it, which is why heâs resorting to desperate lies.
Mando looks at you.
"I see what she means to you. Take her. But you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.â
Gideon steps back, circling around to let Mando pass. Grabbing you at the elbows, he helps you on your feet. The tears threaten to spill over- how youâve dreamed for months of being back in Mandoâs arms. But youâre not home free yet. His gloved hand comes to your temple, gently brushing over the injury.
âCan you walk?â
For Din, I will walk anywhere.
You nod, staring back into his visor, in disbelief that he is really standing here, and essentially, he just traded a whole world for you, without a second thought.
Gideon slowly backs out of the room, he and Mando cautious of each other's movements. You step out of the cell, backing away in the opposite direction. Both men stop and stare at one another, waiting for the other to turn his back. Mando looks down at you. He turns and places both hands on your shoulders, slowly backing you up two steps. With a swift push, he shoves you back into the cell. The doors close, just as you scream out for him
You hear the now familiar sound of Gideonâs dark saber igniting, followed by the clashing sounds of electricity and metal on the other side. You bang on the doors, kicking and screaming to be let out. Each thunk of metal is accompanied by Mandoâs grunts and the sound of sparks and hammering metal. Blow after blow, kindles your fear. Can Gideonâs sword cut through beskar steel? The sounds of the battle ensuing on the other side of the doors is maddening.
Suddenly, the black glow of Gideonâs sword stabs through the steel plate of the door. You lean in a backward arc, as the sword blazes a path, passing inches above your face. If it can cut through a solid cell door?
You pound your fists, continuing to demand your release. If you were on the other side, surely you could do something to help? But your safety always comes first with Mando.
Tears stream down your cheeks as you listen, unable to see what's happening. Mandoâs grunts grow louder, the clashing of steel on steel, deafening, until finallyâŠsilence.
You listen closely for any indication on who defeated who, but donât hear anything. A moment later, and you once again hear the electric hum of Gideonâs saber. Your heart stops. Waiting. Waiting.
The doors open to reveal a victorious Mando, saber in hand. You throw yourself into his arms and revel in the feeling of him squeezing you back. âYou found me,â you whisper beside his helmet. âI always will.â he says back, making you smile.
Your reunion is sweet, but short lived. âTell me about it later,â he says, and you nod in agreement. Thereâs so much to say, so much to tell, but not now, and not in front of Gideon, who is standing nearby, hands in binders.
You walk down the hall, side by side. Mando squeezes your right hand, tightly held within his grasp. In his other hand, he holds the dark saber, at the ready should Gideon decide to step out of line. Gideon walks ahead, leading the way to the bridge where the other Mandalorians wait. A woman, athletic in build and sporting a small New Republic insignia pin on her leather jacket, meets you in the corridor. She falls in line with ânice work,â happy to escort you to the others waiting on the bridge. âMando, weâve got trouble, incoming.â
You see Gideonâs profile as he turns to look over his shoulder. The smug bastard is smiling. Not good. Mando pushes him forward with a kick to the back of the leg.
As you pass through the halls, you realize where you are. Pershingâs lab is nearby. As you pass the door, you come to a halt, pulling against Mandoâs hand.
âWait, thereâs something I need to do,â you say, pulling away.
âWe donât have time for detours,â the woman says.
Mando holds up his hand, shushing her. âYou got him?â
âGot him,â she repeats back, indicating she has a watchful eye on Gideon with the blaster in her hands. They follow you in the room as your gaze sweeps over the landscape, until it comes to a stop on the cryo-freezer.
âWhat is it?â Mando asks, stepping up next to you.
âMe. Pieces of me.â you say.
Gideon chuckles behind you. âGo on. Why donât you tell him what it really is? Why donât you tell him the truth? Why donât you tell him that you could be carrying another manâs child, right at this very moment?â Mandoâs head swings to Gideon, who is all too thrilled to deliver such a verbal blow. Mandoâs head turns back to you, seeking answers. Where to even begin?
You swallow a hard lump in your throat, searching for the words to even begin to explain whatâs been happening on this ship- about Gideonâs twisted experiment.
âThatâs right. Why, it was only moments ago that she was flat on her back, a powerful force user, between her legsâŠâ
Mando snaps, and faster than lightspeed he is on Gideon and throwing punches. Itâs a rapid-fire succession of brutal strikes, directly to Gideonâs face. There is absolutely no time for recovery in between and Gideon canât even get his arms up in front of his face to block.
âMando!â you shout, not really sure why. Itâs something you feel too- the need to get some retribution for everything thatâs happened. For the hurt, the pain, the time lostâŠfor Halo, for everything. Obviously Mando needs it too.
Gideon slumps onto the floor, but Mando doesnât let up. Itâs a brutal beating- enough to make you turn your head away.
âMando, enough!â the other woman shouts angrily, but he doesnât stop. He keeps pummeling Gideonâs face until itâs a horrific mass of bloody flesh and sinew.
Mando reaches over his shoulder, pulling the steel spear from his back. He momentarily pauses to catch his breath, chest heaving from exertion.
âMando, donât do it,â the woman persists. But her plea falls on deaf ears. Raising both arms into the air, Mando strikes down, spearing Gideon through the mouth. His jaw cracks open as the spear exits to the side, nailing the manâs head to the floor.
You stare at him in shock. Youâd never seen Mando so completely unhinged. Ordinarily he was just in his killings, often offering his opponents the chance to lay down their weapons and leave. In other instances, he was cognizant to make death as quick and efficient as possible. This was none of those things. You canât imagine what he must be feeling, what he must have gone through these past months, to make him react this way.
âYouâre right, the man talked too much.â he says.
He walks toward you and you both take a moment to just hold each other.
âDo you know what youâve just done?â the woman says.
Mando loosens his hold on you as you turn to face her.
âItâs less than he deserved.â
âI have no doubt, but that wasnât your call to make! We had a deal. I get to take him in alive, that was the deal! Youâre not the only one heâs hurt. Thereâs a long line of people waiting for justice to be served.â
âThis was just.â
âThis was selfish! Those people deserved to be present when justice was handed down.â
âSo let them know he suffered.â
âDonât you get it? This wasnât our deal. We had an agreement. He was already in custody. He was weaponless, his hands are in binders for Makerâs sake! This wasnât what the New Republic agreed upon.â
Mando looks on in silence. You know it probably irritates him that heâs reneged on an agreement. Loyalty is of the utmost importance to him, but he refuses to apologize.
âYou just put yourself on the New Republicâs most wanted list.â
You dare to look in Gideonâs direction. Thereâs blood everywhere. The manâs face is unrecognizable.
âWait,â you interject. âThe infirmary is the next room over, thereâs an IT-O and a bacta tank. Maybe if you hurryâŠâ
She looks at Mando to see if heâll stop her. When he doesnât make a move, she walks over to Gideon, and pulls Mando's spear free of Gideonâs skull. She tosses it to Mando- he catches it but makes no move to assist her otherwise.
âYou better hope this works.â she says, draging Gideonâs body out the door, by his full-length cape.
âIt didnât happen,â you start to say. âIt almost did, but I got away before it could. I want you to know that.â
âDoesnât matter.â He says, pressing the front of his helmet to your forehead. âA New Republic prison cell wasnât going to stop him from coming for you. I know- because it wouldnât stop me.â
âI donât think heâll be hurting anyone now.â
Mandoâs comm link comes on. âMando?â
âWeâre on our way.â he answers back, hearing the urgency behind the voice.
âMake it quick, weâve got incoming. The dark troopers are attempting to break through the shields.â Mando grabs your hand and begins to run.
âWait!â You say, pulling him to a stop. You grab one of the grav charges from Mandoâs belt and slap it on the shell of the cryo-freezer. When the door closes behind you, an explosive boom rocks the ship, and you head toward the bridge, knowing that no piece of you will be left behind.
All eyes are on you, when you follow Mando, in hand, onto the bridge floor. Itâs a little unnerving to see other Mandalorians- sans helmets, staring back. Youâre not sure what exactly to say to them, as âThanks for helping Mando rescue me,â sounds a little awkward, albeit true. So, you elect to offer them a head nod with the dip of your chin, and hope it conveys the sentiment for the time being. They return the nod, and you can feel one or twoâs gaze linger with curiosity for a few more seconds. No doubt, they are wondering what is so special about you that they have all risked their lives to come here but based on what Gideon had said back in your cell, it sounds like Mando may have been able to work out some sort of deal with them that was otherwise beneficial for them to come along. A key to the throne perhaps?
âWhereâs Gideon?â the redhead who appears to be the leader asks?
âInfirmary.â Mando answers, leaving it at that.
Something passes over her face that you canât quite pinpoint. Frustration perhaps?
Mando changes the subject. âCanât we shut down the troopers from here?â
âNot unless you happen to know the override code. Donât suppose Gideon can be convinced to give it up?â
âHe canât talk right now.â Mando says, staring at the security screen.
Because you pried his jaw off his head.
A secondary alarm begins beeping.
âThereâs no time anyway, theyâve already breached the hull. We need to lock down this room.â
One by one, tiny figures start aligning on the schematics, each identifying a trooper in the platoon. There are dozens, and your heart begins to race when you think of what it took for Mando to take down one.
âTheyâre headed this way,â the redhead says.
âDonât worry, Iâm getting you out of here.â Mando says to you, and your heart flutters that his first concern is still your safety. One of the other Mandalorians punches a button to seal the blast doors, and you watch as the extra set of precautionary doors close. Anxiety reaches its peak when all the Mandalorians put their helmets back on and train their blasters at the door.
In perfect synchronization, the troopers begin pummeling the door with the thundering force of mechanized battering rams. More goosebumps raise on your skin with each slam, unnerving you to the core.
If they break throughâŠ
The entire structure of the room shakes, their efforts now visible on the outer surface of the doors. They will get through, and although there are four capable warriors in the room, you are weaponless, and even if you werenât, it wouldnât be enough. Your heart saddens for the strangers in the room, for what they gambled coming on this ride. But mostly, you tell yourself that if you are about to die, you are happy it is alongside the man you love.
Just as the hammering reaches a fever pitch, another intruder alarm begins to sound from the console.
âAn x-wing,â one of the women says, just as a ship flies past. âOne x-wing?â another says.
Thereâs no response when they ask the pilot to identify themselves, but a small awareness you canât describe starts to tingle down in your gut. Your senses are flooded by a series of intuitive emotions. Peace. Hope. Familiarity.
Suddenly, the room goes silent as the troopers cease their battering. Everyone in the room shares stares, questioning what the hell is happening.
You take a step closer to the monitor. A familiar voice, one youâve not heard since that day on the rock, softly speaks to you. Only itâs not in your ear. Itâs not words in your mind. Itâs like your brain is writing a closed caption transcript for your feelings. The voice is Lukeâs, and he says, Iâm here.
On the monitors, every trooper diverts its attention away from you, and toward the newcomer- a figure in a dark hooded robe. He ignites a lightsaber, much like the one you stole from Flint. Though its unique color isnât visible on the black and white monitor, you recognize the electric hum as the same.
The redhead whispers âa Jedi,â under her breath, confirming what you already know to be true. Mando spins around, startled by her words. You continue to stare, transfixed by both what you are feeling, and by what you are seeing on the monitor. The Jedi cuts through each steel battle droid, like a blade through tissue paper. It takes no more than one or two swings of his saber to dispense of each, and some he doesnât even make contact with. He simply lifts his hand and watches as they are launched away or crushed under an invisible force he controls.
Every set of eyes in the room, silently watches in awe, at both the power and grace with which he wields it. Itâs unlike anything youâve ever seen before.
By the time he reaches the outer door, thereâs a trail of battle droid parts and shrapnel littering his path like a trail of breadcrumbs. Your hand absently touches the monitor as you feel the voice in your mind again. Itâs ok now. And the feeling that surrounds his message feels safe and comforting.
You and Mando stare at each other. It seems impossible that anyone would believe that you might have anything in common with this Jedi- but you also know deep in your gut, that itâs true.
Staring into the T of his visor, youâre not sure what to say anymore.
He hesitates a moment, and then says, âopen the doors.â
Nobody moves. Weapons stay trained on the door, and you canât blame them. Three minutes ago, you would have said a platoon of dark troopers was the scariest thing you had ever seen. Now a singular being that defeated every last one stands on the other side.
Mando repeats himself, âI said, open the doors.â
When nobody makes a move, he walks past, to push the button on the console himself.
âAre you crazy?â one of the others says.
Mando drops your hand to step in front of you- shielding you until the very end.
Always protecting.
You take a small step to the right, so you can just peek around Mandoâs shoulder. When the doors open and the smoke clears, the Jedi appears. He retracts his saber, holstering it on his belt. Itâs both a clear indication that he intends no harm, but also that he perceives no credible threat.
When he lifts back his hood, youâre taken aback by the ordinariness of him. Handsome yes, in a boyish charm sort of way, but otherwise, he appears soâŠnormal? Never in your years would you have imagined the man in front of you wielded such power. Heâs not menacing or overtly intimidating- battle aside. Heâs justâŠordinary. Like me?
His eyes quickly sweep over the room, until he lands his sights on you.
âLuke?â you ask, wondering again how itâs possible you know it was him you heard in the dark, all those days ago. Mandoâs head turns slightly, and you know heâs wondering how you know his name.
He slowly smiles back at you, confirming itâs true.
âAre you a Jedi?â Mando asks.
âI am.â he confirms, and then extends his hand to me. âShall we?â
You immediately turn to Mando, a thousand emotions clogging your throat. Thankful that everyone is safe. Excited that you might finally have answers to the questions youâve been asking all your life. Love. Pure love for the man standing next to you. And terror- for whatever the next words out of his mouth might be. Your eyes begin to well, because you sense it before he even speaks.
Mando pulls you forward to face you, and like a million times before, you wish you could read the emotions on his face beneath the helmet. Sensing the hesitation from you both, Luke says, âShe is strong with the force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect her, but she will not be safe until she masters her abilities.â
You know Lukeâs words will cut Mando, straight to the quick, because keeping you safe has always been the priority, hasnât it?
Mando nods, and you know the decision is made, for all of you. You have to let him go. Heâll never be ok if he thinks he didnât do everything he could to keep you safe. You have to relieve him of that burden, save him from the guilt. Your eyes begin to burn as you struggle to hold back the tears.
âGo on,â he says, his voice slightly strained. âThatâs who you belong with, heâs one of your kind.â
The words rip you apart. Not because heâs asking you to go, but because for the first time, youâre convinced he actually wants you to stay, and this is killing him too. You press your forehead to his and close your eyes as the tears fall. Itâs the only way to say goodbye.
âIâll see you againâŠ. I promise.â
The fact that he speaks those words aloud is a comfort. You know this man holds true to his word, but the knowledge that fate might intervene with other plans, and prevent you from ever reuniting, is a hard pill to swallow.
When you finally lean away, you muster the strength for a half-hearted smile, and gently stroke the side of his helmet. You take a step backward, away from the man you love.
âWait,â he says, halting you. His hand reaches up, catching the underside of his helmet. He begins to lift it up.
âNo! You canât.â you say, your hands covering his, stopping him.
âI need to.â he says, his hands proceeding to lift the helmet off. You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing the spill of more tears. Your hands fall away as you feel the rise of his helmet, up and off.
When you hear him again, itâs his voice, Dinâs voice. No modulation. âLook at me," he asks.
You shake your head no, refusing to believe that he just gave up everything for you. You are standing in a room full of people, his face visible to all but you. You know itâs already done, itâs too late now, but canât bring yourself to open your eyes and confirm it.
You feel the press of his forehead- this time, skin to skin, as he whispers your name.
â........look at me.â he says again.
And you know you have to, because heâs just sacrificed everything, and it canât be for naught. You must give him this. So, you open your eyes and blink through the tears to see the most beautiful pair of umber colored eyes staring back.
All other life in the room fades away. Nothing exists but you and him and this moment. You reach your hand up to run the pads of your fingers over his cheek. Your mind begins to catalog the shape and feel of every feature, desperately attempting to imprint the memory of his face in your mind. The sporadic stubble on his cheek, at odds with the perfect mustache over his lips. The defined slope of his nose. The crease above his brow. The complete disarray of his hair, and Maker help you- the slightest indentation- a dimple on his right cheek. And when you put it all together, itâs Din, and heâs perfect. And although heâs never said the words, I love you, out loud, he is saying them right now with the expression on his face. Reflecting back at you, is all the warmth and love you feel for him too, written in that gaze.
When he leans in, neither of you is able to close your eyes- fearful everything will erase if you do. What might otherwise have been an awkward, open eyes kiss, is in reality, the most meaningful kiss of your life. Itâs devotion. Itâs warmth. Itâs gratitude. Itâs love. Itâs goodbye.
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A/N: We are close to the end, but we've got one more chapter to go! Thank you to those who have stuck with me to this point. For those that are ready for this story to conclude, I think you'll be satisfied with the ending and yes, I think all remaining questions will be answered. For those that aren't ready for the story to end, I'm happy to say, I will be continuing with a part two and I already have the first 6 chapters mapped out, but more on that later....
Chapter character art was based on canon physical descriptions, though complete liberty was taken with personalities.
Sith Meditation played on loop while I wrote this chapter
As always, hearts, reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!