Chapter Text
The wind is extremely cold today. I'm in an alleyway, curled up behind a few trash compactors trying to stay warm. Due to an upcoming festival, it's impossible to steal enough food for myself and the others. Can't even stay in front of the warmer vents, the guards have cleared out anywhere visitors will be going, and patrol it constantly to keep us away.
My stomach hurts from hunger. I have no idea how long it's been since I've had even a scrap of bread, or a nibble of a ration bar. I don't know how I haven't died of starvation, I've seen kids die from starvation well before the point I'm at now. Is this it? Is this the end for me? Survived the orphanage and the strip club only to die from starvation and exposure?
I hear footsteps coming down the alley, and pray there aren't more guards. Seems some higher power was listening, for it's a Mandalorian and his bounty. I sigh when I see it's Grognic. "Told you, you should have kept running. Bounties always get caught when they stay in one place for too long." I call out to the bounty. He wasn't exactly a friend, but he did help me and the other homeless ones.
Grognic nods, and the Mandalorian seems to be staring at me. I hug my legs tighter, trying to keep as warm as possible. They move on and I sigh. We're down a really good thief now. He was able to get food and clothes for the younger ones a lot better than me. Then again, bright purple hair is hard to cover, especially when every piece of clothing we get goes to the younger kids.
A while later I hear footsteps again, and look up to see that Mandalorian from before walking towards me. I watch him and That Feeling, a gut instinct I've had all my life, tells me he means no harm. His armor looks half rusted, save for his shiny helmet. He kneels down in front of me, and from my reflection in his helmet, I look like I'm already half way in the grave.
Without a word, he hands me a full ration bar. I look at it, unsure if he's really giving me food. "Go on, take it." He says, voice modulated from his helmet. I slowly reach out, waiting for him to snatch it back and make me earn it. I grab it and he lets go of the bar. I immediately open it and take small, slow bites, not wanting to eat too fast and end up throwing it up. I hear him chuckle lightly as I eat. "I'm surprised. Figured you'd wolf that down in a single bite." He says.
"Then I'd throw it up and just waste a ration bar." I tell him. He nods, then reaches into his pocket. He pulls out three more ration bars.
"I factored that in. Here." He says, handing me the bars. I take them and put them in my pocket, watching him.
"Why are you being nice to me? Not to sound ungrateful, of course, it's just... People aren't nice to me." I ask, guarded. He sighs and looks down for a moment before looking back up.
"A long time ago, I was just like you. Alone and afraid. I was helped." He tells me. When he doesn't elaborate, I nod and wrap up the half a bar I have left, saving it for later. He looks at me for a few moments. "Tell me, do you know how to repair ships? Preferably Pre-Empire." He asks. I snort as I pocket the half a ration bar.
"I can fix anything. Ships from any era, weapons, clothes. If I can't fix it, it's beyond repair." I tell him. He nods.
"Good. I have a Razor Crest, and could use an on board mechanic. I can give you a place to sleep, food to eat, and ten percent of my bounty fees. What do you say?" He offers. I think for a few moments. The other homeless kids are old enough to care for themselves, and kind enough to help newly homeless kids. They don't need me anymore.
"I accept." I smile. He holds out his gloved hand and I reach out mine, shaking to seal the deal. He then stands up and pulls me up. I practically fly up, not expecting it.
"Sorry, I didn't think you'd be so light." He says, helping me catch my balance. I nod, and he starts walking. I follow behind him, and remember how the dock workers are.
"Hey, um, the dock workers will stop me. Think I'm trying to steal a ship or something. Just wanted to warn you." I tell him. He doesn't look back, but keeps walking.
"Tried to steal a ship before?" He asks.
"No, but others like me have." I sigh, not wanting to get into it. He nods again and we keep walking. We get to the docks, and just like I thought, Tom stops me.
"You know you're not allowed here, Purple Haired Bitch! Get out, now." He demands. The Mandalorian places a hand on my shoulder, staring down Tom.
"I've hired her, she's with me and under my protection." He states. Tom visibly gulps, then steps aside. I stick close to the Mandalorian, and see the other dock workers with worried expressions. None of us orphans have ever managed to get off the planet. Not my problem anymore. I see his Razor Crest and.... Oh yeah, it's seen better days. He pushes buttons on his arm guard, and a ramp comes down from the side. I follow him into the ship, and he closes the ramp behind us.
The ship is cluttered with boxes, and I can see slabs of Carbonite hanging. One of them contains Grognic. The Mandalorian has me follow him up a ladder and through a door to the cockpit. I sit in the right side chair, strapping in. Looking out the transparent durasteel, I can see people grouping together, talking.
The Mandalorian flips switches and pushes buttons, bringing the ship to life. I can already tell she needs work, Pre-Empire ships don't shake like this normally. He lifts off the ground, and soon we're flying. I stay silent as we break through the atmosphere, and I'm in awe. I've never seen stars like this before, just from the ground. The Mandalorian starts pulling different levers, and I gasp as the stars turn into long lines.
The light that is the stars start to swirl with different shades of blue and black, and it's so beautiful. The Mandalorian turns his chair to me, then pauses. "Have you ever been in space before?" He asks. I shake my head, still looking out the transparasteel.
"No. All my life I've lived on Gavin X. While I know about hyperspace and flying ships, I've never actually been in space. It's... Hauntingly beautiful." I tell him. That Feeling tells me he's surprised. I look over and see his helmet staring me down. I shrink in my seat, hoping he doesn't turn around and kick me off the ship.
He looks out the window and very faintly I can see the outline of his brows in the black T of his helmet. "I've seen this so many times, it's nothing to me. Seeing it through your fresh eyes... I can agree." He says. I sigh in relief, then he stands up. "Come with me." He exits the cockpit, climbing down the ladder. I follow him and he opens a trunk. Inside is a random assortment of clothing.
He takes out a large black shirt and large cloth pants. He hands them to me, then climbs back up the ladder. I follow him, and instead of going into the cockpit, he goes through the door across from it. I follow him through what appears to be a storage room, to another storage room, then he opens a door.
In this room there's a vacctube, a sink, and a shower. "This is the main fresher. You might wish to shower and change clothes. Once we reach Nevarro, I'll get you new clothes." He says, then starts to leave.
"Wait. Um... I need a towel and soap." I tell him. He nods and opens a box next to the fresher. He hands me a towel, then points to a bar of soap and a bottle in the shower.
"Use those. I'll get you your own when we land." He says, quickly leaving the room. Maker, I must stink if he can smell it through his helmet. It's been some time since I could bathe. I enter the fresher and figure out how to start it. The water heats as I undress. In the mirror, I can see the dirt caked on me, and my hair looks like a porg nest.
Yesh, no wonder he had me take a shower as fast as possible! I use a brush I found to get all the knots out of my hair, and make it easier to wash. Once the water is hot, I step in the small shower. The water feels amazing after not bathing in so long. I don't know how long I spend showering, but by the time I'm fully clean, the shower tiles are disgusting.
I make a note to clean it when I'm shown where the cleaning supplies are, then get dressed. Thank the Maker the pants have a drawstring, otherwise they would fall off. These are very obviously the Mandalorian's clothes. I'd be more surprised if he had clothes that would fit me. I find a piece of scrap leather under the sink, and use that to pull back my hair off my face.
Once dressed and hair brushed, I exit the fresher with my smelly clothes and the towel, feeling better than I have in ages. The Mandalorian is standing there with a bag held open. He seems to freeze once I look up. We stand there awkwardly for a bit. I start waving my hand in front of his helmet. "Sir? Are you ok?" I ask. He seems to snap to and holds out the bag.
"For your clothes." He states. I nod and put them in the bag. He ties it off and already the smell of them is less. Then he drops them next to the box the towel came from. "So, what's your name?" He asks, sitting on the box.
"Don't have one. I was found in a vegetable basket when I was an infant. Nothing to denote name, age, or even species. Most people call me Girl, Kid, Thief, or Purple Haired Bitch." I tell him, leaning against the wall.
"Thief?" He asks, voice serious and arms crossing. I chuckle, knowing what he's thinking.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to steal your stuff. The only things I've ever stolen were food, water and clothing. Mainly for the other homeless kids." I explain. He relaxes a bit and nods. "If you need a name to call me, just call me Thief. That was used the most. What shall I call you?" I ask.
"Most people call me Mando." He says. I nod and we're silent for a moment.
"Would you mind showing me where the cleaning supplies are? I would like to clean my filth out of the shower." I tell him. He nods and opens a crate, showing me cleaning supplies. I thank him and take them, immediately going to the fresher to clean. It takes me a while, but eventually it's cleaner than it was when I went in.
Once I get that done, I start working on getting a list together of what I need to repair. I'll be able to get a full diagnostic once we land, but a headstart never hurt. The jumble of wires in the cargo area alone is gonna take a while to fix. "What are you doing?" I jump, not expecting to hear Mando.
"Figured I'd get a start on the diagnostic for what you need repaired." I tell him once I'm facing him.
"It's late, you should get some rest first. Have a clear mind when you work." He says. I nod, seeing his logic. I look around for a place to sleep, and find a space between two crates. I sit down between them, using a spare tarp as a blanket.
I look up at Mando, who seems to be staring at me. "Good night, Mando." I say, curling up against the wall sideways and adjusting the tarp. I fall asleep quickly, and for once my sleep is dreamless. When I wake up, I realize I'm not against the wall anymore. I'm in some kind of alcove, a thin mattress underneath me and an actual blanket covering me. The pillow and blanket have a nice smell to them. A mix of the soap I used and something else. Something... Unique.
I get up and see I'm in the little alcove next to the second fresher. That one just has a vacctube, nothing else. Makes sense, kinda hard to climb a ladder when you really have to shit. I fold up the blanket and lay it on the bed, wondering how I got there. I doubt a Mandalorian bounty hunter is going to be kind enough to a new employee to move them to a bed. I climb the ladder and enter the cockpit.
Mando is leaned back in the pilot's chair, chest moving slowly as if asleep. I didn't see another bedroom earlier, was where I was sleeping the only one? If so, why was I in there and not him? As I study him from the right hand seat, I see his chest start to move more, waking up. "How long have you been sitting there?" He asks.
"Only a few minutes, not long at all." I tell him, still studying his armor. What I thought was rust is actually old red paint that's been chipped or blasted away in spots. There's a lot of damage to the armor, and I'm quite surprised he's still alive.
"Did you try to remove my helmet? I'll know if you're lying." He asks.
"No, I did not. Why would I remove your helmet?" I ask, confused as to why he would think that.
"To see my face." He answers.
"I may not be the smartest being in the Galaxy, but I'm not stupid. I've heard tales of Mandalorians killing people who have attempted to remove their helmets. I don't wish to be murdered anytime soon. Figured if you wanted me to see your face, you'd show me in your own time. If you're even allowed to, that is. I've also heard of a strict Creed that Mandalorians follow." I tell him.
He turns to me quickly, making me involuntarily flinch. I don't know why I did, just instinct I guess. "You sure are a skittish one. Do you normally jump at every move a person makes?" Mando asks. I shrug, unsure of how to answer. He swings back around and looks at a clock. "Really? Only three hours have passed since you went to sleep." He sighs.
"I've never needed much sleep. If my presence here makes it so you can't sleep, I'll go back to the cargo hold. Stay there until you give me permission to move about." I tell him. He doesn't answer, but That Feeling tells me he's unhappy with my wording. I take the initiative and get up, opening the door.
"You don't need my permission to move about my ship. You aren't my slave." He says as I take a step out. His voice sounds upset, like he's offended I even suggested needing permission.
"No, I am not. But this is your ship. Your home. Until told so, I'm not going to poke around or go anywhere without your consent. Knowing my luck, I'll find your dirty holotapes or porn holozines." I joke, chuckling. Again, he's silent, but That Feeling once again tells me he found it amusing. I return to the cargo hold, deciding to continue my assessment of the repairs this bucket of bolts needs done.