#bd-72

No, wait, she must have imagined that part. His eyes were as hidden to her as the rest of him. She wasn’t even sure he was human under there, and yet, she was sure she had felt something instinctual pulling her to him, something that set off a deep yearning and flooded her senses with arousal. Or she was just inconveniently horny. Sitting in his lap a moment ago, she had had to stop herself from grinding against his thigh.

Ace groaned and rubbed her temples. That hit must have really damaged her brain if she was lusting after a suit of armor.

BD-72 trotted over, beeping quizzically.    

“It’s just the excitement of the day catching up with me, I guess. You don’t happen to have any painkillers in that toolbox, do you, BD?”

  BD danced and beeped a little tune. A small door popped open on the side of the tool cart, revealing a travel-sized first aid kit. It was small and didn’t contain much, aside from a few sterilizers, some clean gauze wrap, two pins, and a vial containing a half dozen tiny pills.

“My savior,” Ace praised the little droid. “I don’t suppose you have any water for me to wash these down with?”

The droid shook its head and played a sad note.

“That’s okay, I might as well go down there, anyway.” Ace got to her feet and started to make her way down the ladder. BD followed until it got to the opening in the floor. Ace shrugged. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe just hang here.” The droid beeped and did a couple of small squat-like maneuvers, releasing the tool cart from its rear hitch point, and then flipped itself seamlessly upside down through the hole so it was suspended from the ceiling of the lower deck by magnetic feet. Ace watched, impressed. “Well, look at you.”

Ace descended the last few rungs. The Mandalorian was only a few feet away, seated with the child on his knee. The small green baby was holding a hunk of some food in its tiny clawed hands. Lifting the food to his mouth, he devoured it enthusiastically, his ears wiggling with obvious delight.

Ace couldn’t help but smile. “He must have been hungry.”

The Mandalorian didn’t look away from the child as he hummed in acknowledgment. The tension she had sensed from him earlier in the cockpit seemed to have dissipated. He responded, “Constantly. He’s a bottomless pit.” He turned his head to look at her. “How’s your head?”

Ace felt herself relax slightly. “Achey.” She held up the vial. “I was hoping you might have something for me to drink?”

The Mandalorian gently lifted the child and set him on the floor, then stood. He crossed the room and opened a cabinet, then shut it. He stooped to open a lower cabinet, which spilled forth several canisters. Haphazardly, he pushed them back inside and latched the door to that compartment. He paused, seeming to think for a moment, then turned to another shelf, where he found what he was looking for behind some cartons. It was a small canteen, which he unscrewed the cap from and held under a tap to fill with fresh water. When the canteen was full, he replaced the cap and brought it to her.

He sounded almost shy when he held it out to her. “All I’ve got is water. I installed the filtration system in the holding tank myself, so it’s clean.”

“Clean water is perfect. Thank you.” She shook one pill out of the vial, considered the throbbing in her skull for a moment, and then gave it another shake to add one more to her palm. Popping them into her mouth, she took the canteen from the Mandalorian’s gloved hand and sipped. It tasted better than the spring water on Tatooine, that was for sure.

Ace caught him watching her as she swallowed the pills and he quickly looked around the space.

“Apologies for the mess.” He said as he started to tidy up some overturned crates. The satchel of supplies he had brought from the marketplace was still on the floor where he had thrown it. “I don’t usually have guests that aren’t frozen in carbonite.”

Ace’s eyes grew wide. “Okay… creepy.”

“I didn’t mean - uh.” The Mandalorian’s flustered explanation was cut off by a shrill sound from the child.

The child had climbed onto a low table and was helping himself to another piece of the food the Mandalorian had left there. BD approached, clanking down the vertical surface of the wall, curiously tilting its periscope head to examine the creature. BD beeped softly in its robotic language. The child held out a piece of the food, and the droid moved closer to investigate. BD nudged the offering with its lenses, which sent the child into what could only be described as a fit of giggles.

Ace covered her mouth, forcing herself to gulp down the mouthful of water she was holding in her cheeks. When her mouth was clear, she said, “He’s adorable. Is he yours?”

A crackling sound came through the speakers of the Mandalorian’s helmet. Was that a sigh? “No. I mean… in a way, he sort of is. It’s complicated.”

“You accused me of kidnapping him and threatened to shoot me, obviously you care for him a great deal.”

“He is a foundling. We are not bound by blood, but by creed. It is my duty to protect him until he is returned to his own people.”

“I see. And do you know where to find his people?”

“I do not.”

“Ah. There are a whole lotta worlds out there. You going to explore all of them until you find this little guy’s family?”

“Like I said. Complicated. Until he is returned to his kind, he and I are a clan of two. This is The Way.”

Ace nodded, as if she understood whatever that meant. “So, does he have a name?”

“Grogu.”

Hearing the Mandalorian say his name, Grogu’s head swiveled to look at him. He perked up his big ears and stared up with curious black eyes.

The Mandalorian shifted, crossing his arms and made a small noise of appreciation. Ace watched him with her own curiosity. She didn’t know how she knew, but she thought he might be smiling under there. She tried to imagine what he looked like beneath all that metal.

Two legs, two arms, five fingers on each hand. He seemed human enough. He was tall, broad in the shoulders and slightly narrower in the waist. The armor made him look bulky, but the way he carried himself suggested he was strong without being overly sculpted. Fit but not especially athletic. Ace was already developing a thing for his voice -  even through the modulated tone from his helmet, she was enthralled by the deep timbre. It had the slightest hint of an unfamiliar accent that she suspected could make the most monotonous technical manual sound appealing. Her eyes trailed down his body. She wondered what his skin looked like, the color of his hair, the shape of his-

“Ace.” The Mandalorian said, turning to look at her fully. She jumped, caught in the act of mentally undressing the man in front of her. There was a tilt of the helmet, like he was letting her know he had raised an eyebrow, like he knew what she was thinking. If he did know, he didn’t seem to mind, because he continued speaking, “I’m guessing that’s not your real name.”

“No, just a nickname that Peli started using. But I like it. I think it suits me.”

“Hmm.”    

Ace crossed her own arms. “I’m guessing ‘Mando’ isn’t your real name, either.”

“It is not,” he answered, which earned him an eye roll and a mocking ‘hmm’ from Ace. When he spoke again, Ace was sure she heard the barest hint of amusement in his voice. “Will you tell me your real name?”

“Depends. Are you going to tell me yours?”

“Mandalorians do not share such personal details lightly.”

“Then, we’ll stick with the nicknames.”

The Mandalorian shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He turned back to his task of straightening up. When he lifted the satchel from the floor, something fell from it with a clatter: A rectangular metal box, with two antennas and one rapidly-blinking red light.

Ace knelt down to pick it up. She stood, inspecting it closer. “What’s this?”

“It’s a bounty hunter’s tracking fob. I took it off of one of the attackers.”

A chill ran down her spine as he confirmed what she had feared the moment she recognized the colors of the flag adorning the thugs’ clothing.

“Those pirates were hunting a bounty…” she said, in disbelief.

The Mandalorian turned toward her. “How did you know they were pirates?” His voice was guarded and steely, matching his armor.

Ace swallowed. “I’ve seen pirates before. Kind of comes with the territory, working on ships, you know?” she answered, carefully.  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. Ace hadn’t just seen pirates before. She’d worked for them, helped them, even. But that was a long time ago. Ace shrugged. “I know the look. They had that flag. They attacked your ship. Not hard to put the pieces together,” she said, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

“The leader’s name is Rook,” explained the Mandalorian, “He and his gang are pirates, but they sometimes take up hunting bounties if the price is high enough,” Mando walked toward her. “I’ve had run-ins with him in the past when we’ve gone after the same bounties.”

Ace didn't need the introduction. She had heard of Rook and she knew he wasn’t just some ordinary pirate. He was captain of his own ship within Gorian Shard’s fleet. From what Ace knew about pirate code, he’d be splitting the reward he got with his crew, which meant whatever bounty he was after had to be worth a hefty sum. And if the price on her head had gone up that much, it was bound to attract more attention. She chewed her lip and crossed her arms to hide how her hands were starting to shake as something else the Mandalorian had said clicked into place.

“Wait, you’re a bounty hunter, too?”  Well, shit… she thought. She had managed to evade being captured by Rook, only to end up on the ship of another bounty hunter. And yet, he hadn’t frozen her in carbonite or locked her up so far, which meant he didn’t know Rook had been hunting her.

“Technically, yes, I am, but my only priority right now is protecting him,” he nodded toward the child. “Rook was using that to track the child,” the Mandalorian stated, gesturing to the device. There was tension in his voice.

She blinked, shocked at the conclusion he had come to. She had to stop herself from correcting him. “You think they were after Grogu?” Ace asked in disbelief, “There’s a bounty on him?”

“There was. It’s how I ended up with him in the first place. The fobs tracking Grogu should have all been disabled when I killed the client that ordered the original bounty, though, so I don’t know who sent this one.”

Ace was still holding the tracker, and she eyed it warily. “This one is still active. They could be following us, right now.” She hated that her voice betrayed the panic that was quickly rising inside.

Mando reached out and took the fob from Ace’s hand. He threw it onto the floor with deliberate force, then smashed it with the heel of his boot. There was a zap and sizzle from the ruined device on the floor. The sudden action made Ace take a half-step backward. BD shrank back, too, cowering behind Grogu. The child stroked the droid and cooed comfortingly.

Ace said, quietly. “Well, that takes care of that I suppose.”

“Not quite,” said the Mandalorian. “If this led Rook’s gang to us, then there could be more fobs and more hunters.”

For a moment, all was quiet, except for the hum of the Razor Crest. As if sensing some distress in his Mandalorian companion, Grogu sidled closer and raised his arms in a wordless request. Mando lifted the child and held him close.

“I need to go to Nevarro to speak with the leader of the bounty hunter’s guild there.”

Ace looked confused. “You want to take him to the bounty hunters?”

“We have friends there who might be able to tell us what’s going on. He’ll be safe.” He paused, and then inclined his head slightly and said, “I am sorry that you got caught up in this. I do not wish to put you in danger. When we get to Nevarro, I can ask my friends to help you book passage back to Tatooine.”

Ace didn’t want the worry she felt to show, and looked down at the floor. Would his friends know she was wanted? “Thank you, Mando. I appreciate that.” Her gaze drifted around the cabin. “In the meantime, there’s still plenty of work for me to do around here.” She forced herself to smile.

Mando stepped past her, toward the ladder. “The ship seems stable now. Why don’t you get some rest? You can take the cot.”

“Oh, but…” Ace started. “You sure?”

“Grogu and I can make do in the cockpit. We’ve done it before,” Mando said, as he climbed to the upper level.

“Okay. Thanks,” Ace called after him. She turned to the corner where she had spied a long narrow cubby built into the wall beside the refresher. There was a small hammock hanging from the top, the perfect size for Grogu. Ace felt a small pang of guilt for taking the sleeping space away from the kid and his dad, but she didn’t want to cause a scene by arguing. Besides, she was grateful for the chance to be alone and gather her thoughts. She crawled inside.

A thin mat was the only padding on the hard metal surface. There were some net bags hung to the sides for storing personal items, but they were all empty, save for one which held a single small pillow and a thin blanket. She pulled them out, and, while unfurling the blanket, something tumbled out of the folded fabric. Ace picked it up.

It was a small, paperback book. Printed materials, actual ink on paper, were incredibly rare, and yet this one looked well-used with its crumpled edges and cracked spine. On the cover, in Basic, it said, “History of the Galaxy: Part One.” Odd. Ace flipped through the pages, careful not to bend or tear the delicate material. It looked like a student’s textbook, something from some university. Closing it, she placed it and her canteen in one of the pockets, and then settled in as best she could. There was a small control panel near her head and with the push of a button, a door closed at her feet. It wasn’t terribly comfortable, but it was a private place to sleep.

Ace pulled the blanket to her chin and closed her eyes. She was asleep in seconds. Her dreams were a disconnected jumble of scenes and faces, but through it all, the Mandalorian stood out. His strange, beautiful, modulated voice floated through her subconscious mind: “I need you, Ace.”

“Ace! Wake up!” The voice was coming through the intercom speaker in the control panel by her head. “I need you to get up here. We have a problem.”

Ace woke up with a start. She fumbled to reach the control panel in the complete darkness. Her fingers found the buttons, but she couldn’t make out which ones to hit for the intercom by touch alone. She scooted toward the door and felt around for the emergency release handle - every automatic door had to have a manual override. Ace found the edge and lifted. The door came up easily, and she stepped out of the sleeping space.

It was dark in the main cabin, too. Definitely not a good sign.    

“BD? You down here?”

There was a chirp of acknowledgment and the sound of BD-72’s mechanical legs echoed in the eerie stillness. The droid’s lamp clicked on, illuminating Ace’s path.

“Thanks, buddy.” Ace said. “Come on. Let’s go see what happened.” She made her way up the ladder to the cockpit, where she found the Mandalorian, leaning over the control panel. She could tell, just from his posture, that he was worried. “What’s going on?”

Mando put his hands on his hips. “We just dropped out of hyperspace.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much.”

He ignored her sarcasm and continued, “We were on course for Nevarro when everything just went into shutdown. We’re drifting and I have no readings on any of the instrument clusters.”

“Uhh, okay, let me see.” Ace sat in the pilot’s seat. BD dutifully wheeled the tool cart to her side. She punched a few combinations into the nearest button array, but there was no response. She felt around the edge of a small panel to her left and carefully pried it up with her fingernails, revealing a small rectangular port. From the tool box, Ace pulled a handheld device, which she plugged into the newly exposed port. The screen in between the flight sticks lit up.

Mando leaned forward eagerly. “What did you do?”

“Don’t get too excited. I’m just accessing the last program memory before the ship’s computer put itself into safety shutdown.” Some lines of text scrawled across the screen. “Okay. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Mando grunted, “Tell me something good.”

“Well, the Razor Crest’s holding pressure and there’s a reserve battery that has enough juice to keep us all alive for a good while.”

“And the bad?”

“It’s not enough to give us engine power. Remember when I connected the hyperdrive circuit while it was charged? There was a power surge. It was small, but it looks like that was just enough feedback to send a spike through the system.”

“You broke my ship.”

“Technically, you broke your ship.”

“Ace.”

“Okay, fine. We broke it. But I think I can fix it. It just might take me some time to identify where exactly the problem is… and hope we have the parts on hand to replace what blew.” Ace typed something into the device. “I’m redirecting every bit of reserve power from the battery bulkhead to life support, with priority in the cockpit.”

“What can I do?” asked the Mandalorian.

Ace stood and took a deep breath. She gathered the loose strands of her hair and tied them back in a knot at the base of her neck. She looked into the visor and saw her own reflection staring back at her. She looked nervous. “Pray to whatever gods you Mandalorians believe in that no one finds us out here, because we have no shields, no guns, and no way to run.”

Mando tilted his helmet to the side, and muttered. “Mandalorians no longer worship gods.”

“You’re just going to have to put your faith in me, then.” Ace winked and started to walk past, toward the cockpit door. Mando followed at her heels. Ace paused in the doorway and put a hand on Mando’s armored chest, lightly pushing him away. “You stay with Grogu.”

Mando huffed and shifted his weight from side to side, impatiently. “I can’t just sit here.”

Her eyes flicked past the Mandalorian, to Grogu, who was watching intently with his ears cast down.“Then, take care of him. Keep him calm. It’s going to get very cold in this metal box very fast. Get him wrapped up warm in his pram. It should have a decent incubation setting to keep him comfortable, if necessary.”    

“What if you can’t fix this, Ace?”

“Come on, where’s that faith?” Ace teased, trying to lighten the dire mood.

“I’m really not the praying type.”

Ace could hear the edge in his voice. “Then you’ll have to trust me.” She pulled her gloves out of her pocket and looked down as  she slid her hands into them. She spoke quietly, hoping the kid couldn’t hear her. She didn’t want to scare him. “Worst case scenario, does the Razor Crest still have its escape pod docked?”    

“Yes.” Mando said, following her lead and lowering his voice.

“If this doesn’t work, you and Grogu take it and go. You can manually deploy and it will set off a distress beacon. It’s a gamble on who will pick you up, but I have a feeling you’d take those odds over the alternative.”

“What about you?”

Ace looked directly into the visor as she said, matter-of-factly “I die.”

The Mandalorian stared at her, unmoving. She would have sworn she heard him swallow a lump in his throat. Then he nodded, “Let’s try to avoid that option, then.”

Ace returned the nod. “That’s the plan. BD, you’re with me! Bring the tools.” The droid trotted after her and the cockpit doors closed.