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Varevare lived a simple life. Every morning she would rise at dawn and set up her booth, then spend the day selling her wares. She sold children’s items, either hand-fashioned by herself or created from parts she found in the junkpits, and she made everything she could think of, from clothes to toys to pacifiers.
She knew the face and name of every mother in the city their little ones. Occasionally she would get a family passing through on their travels, but for the most part her clientele was familiar and friendly. There was always a broken toy that had to be replaced, or a shirt that had been rapidly outgrown, and Even then, Varevare was more than happy to chat with the mothers while the children played with some of her stock regardless of if they even made a purchase. There was something about seeing children’s faces light up when they played with her creations that was unbeatable.
One day, however, the peaceful familiarity of her life was disrupted by a very unusual buyer.
The day started normally. The streets were busy as usual, and she made a couple of sales and exchanged gossip with the mothers. Whilst waiting for customers, she would work on new wares, either putting together clothes or tinkering potential toys.
She was putting the finishing touches on a small cap when a metallic glint beyond her booth caught her eye. She looked up, and saw a Mandalorian strolling through the crowd, his armor almost impossible to look at in the glare of the midday sun.
She knew only a little of the Mandalorians; she had only seen one once or twice before. She had heard of their fierce reputations as warriors and bounty hunters, and so had many others, judging by how the street crowds gave him a wide berth.
Instinctively, she shrunk down behind her stall, pretending to be busy whilst she watched the Mandalorian out of the corner of her eye. When bounty hunters came down her street, it was always to the cantina at the end of the block. Shootouts and fights were common down there, and not wanting violence to potentially fall on her, she always kept her head down when bounty hunter and warrior types came through. The few times she had spoken to one, it was always for directions to the cantina.
If she was honest, they scared her. She had heard stories about the horrors of bounty hunting, and seeing such vile characters on her street was a disruption to her peaceful life.
The Mandalorian stopped on the street. Varevare chanced a glance at him. He stood tall, tense, scanning the various stalls that lined street, only evidenced by the movements of his helmet. Her heart quickened as the visor turned in her direction, and she quickly turned her eyes back to her work.
After a few moments, she chanced a look up, fully expecting the man to have moved on, but to her horror, he was heading straight for her stall. Not wanting to incur the wrath of a dangerous individual, she stood, trying to hide her intimidation.
The Mandalorian stopped a few feet from her stall, and she was surprised to see that he was studying her wares, his helmet moving slightly. She also couldn’t help but notice the wide variety of weapons on him, which only furthered to heighten her anxiety.
“C-can I help you?” she squeaked, trying not to quail as the visor fixed on her.
“I need a toy.” The voice that came from the helmet was deep and monotone, slightly modulated.
Varevare blinked. Of all the things she had expected, a request for a toy was not one of them. What would a warrior like him use a toy for? Did he have a bounty on a child he had to lure in? The thought sickened her, but she knew refusing would land her in trouble, if not worse.
“What kind of toy?” she asked at last.
“Something with buttons.” The response came instantly and without hesitation.
Varevare cast about, always keeping one eye on the man in front of her. Eventually she came up with a small holodisc with a couple of shiny buttons that she had programmed to play holograms of various animals.
“Will this do?” she asked, holding the disc out.
Before the Mandalorian could respond, something very odd happened. Varevare heard a high-pitched babble, and a small green hand reached out from the man’s cloak towards the disk. She looked closer, and saw a set of huge eyes and equally huge ears peering out from beneath the tattered fabric.
“I think that’s a yes.” Varevare was so shocked she almost missed the tiny edge of humor in the man’s voice.
“Is he yours?” she found herself asking, still staring at the little creature. She saw now that it was in a sling wrapped around the Mandalorian’s shoulders, and artfully concealed beneath his cloak.
“Yes.” He took the disc from her, and she watched, mystified, as he gently handed the creature the little gadget. It immediately pressed one of the buttons, bringing up a holographic video of a Felucia bird in flight, and giggled happily.
“We’ll take it,” he said, looking back at her. “How much?”
For a long moment, Varevare could not find the words. She was too enraptured by this strange man, wearing the armor of warriors, yet caring for a little child. All her fear of the man died away, replaced by a sense of pleasant surprise. She could see in his gentleness that this was no captive, but a beloved child.
“Erm…fifty credits,” she said at last. He handed her the currency, and she said, “He likes buttons?”
“Yes.” She swore she heard a hint of adoration break through his gravelly tones as he looked down at the kid. “I had to get him something before he pressed the wrong button.”
She stifled a laugh. “Well, I wish good luck to you and your son. Hopefully that keeps him occupied.”
The Mandalorian looked back at her, and she could feel his eyes on her. After a long moment, he said simply, “Thank you.”
With that, he turned and walked off into the crowd, and if you didn’t know there was a child hidden beneath his cloak, you would never guess. His stance carried the weight and intimidation of a warrior, but now Varevare knew of the hidden softness in him. She watched them go, her eyes never leaving the man until the sheen of his armor vanished. She had never met such a strange parent and child before, though she had met many, and she was left with a thousand questions.
When the mothers came by later for more gossip, she kept the man and his son to herself. He seemed like the sort of person to not want to be found out, but she thought of them every day after, a lightness in her heart at the happy little duo they seemed to be despite being the odd ones out.