From her seat at the small table in the Razor Crest's admittedly tiny mess room, Anwyn could hear all sorts of various bangs and dings from the cargo bay down below. Interrupting the struggle were what she could identify as the Mandalorian muttering under his breath. She could never quite catch what he was saying, but the voice modulator made his words very distinct from the rest of the noise even from the floor above.
For the most part, she tried ignoring his obvious frustration with whatever it was that he was doing, but after 10 minutes of the same thing and no sign of it stopping, she put down her utensils and left her unfinished meal on the table. "Stay here." She instructed the green baby sitting on the seat beside her, who grabbed at his own food with his little hands. He cooed softly, but only watched as she left the room.
She stepped towards the ladder and grabbed the two sides, sliding and finally dropping down with a thud in the cargo bay.
The noise must have started the armored man, because his helmet banged against the metal wall of the Razor Crest with a very loud clang, and he pulled his arm out from the square-shaped vent he'd been reaching inside.
"Ah, haar'chak..." He muttered just loud enough for her to hear, and she quirked a brow. She watched him shake his head a little to help alleviate whatever disorientation had arisen from hitting his helmet. He stepped back from the vent and looked at her through the 'T' of his visor.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"The air circulator is malfunctioning." He gestured to the square he'd been shoulder-deep in just a moment ago with the welding tool. "A portion of the panel is damaged."
"How far are we from the nearest planet? Are we going to make it there?" She asked, suddenly a little more nervous about this new development.
He only shook his head. "Several days at least. But, it's nothing that puts us in immediate danger. The air'll start to feel stale soon if I don't get it fixed, though."
Effectively calmed, Anwyn hummed her understanding as he stepped back to the square, reaching in as far as he could to fix whatever was wrong with it in the first place.
His red cloak lay on a box a few feet away, perhaps removed so it wouldn't bother him while doing the repair-seeing him without it was a little strange, as she'd gotten so used to his full ensemble. However, with his clunky helmet and bulky armor still in the way, there was no easy way of maneuvering anyway and so the attempt was wasted.
Her eyes took in the vent's size and the height against the wall. "Aren't those vents meant for repair droids?"
"Yes." He chided, leaving it at that. The prickliness was not lost on her. Touchy subject.
He shifted a few times, Anwyn trying to hold back the grin that was surely growing on her face. Watching him try to figure out a way around his obvious problem was more amusing that it probably should have been. The comical dinging of his armor hitting the sides of the vent weren't helping much either.
After another few minutes of no progress, he pulled back from the hole and stepped away. "Haar'chak...it's too far back."
Anwyn's ears perked up at the unfamiliar term, and her head tilted. "Harchock...you said that a little earlier. What is that?"
For several seconds, he didn't reply. His chest rose and finally fell with a small sigh, staring at her with some sort of expression behind the helmet. What he was thinking, she'd never begin to guess. Maybe he didn't like questions that pertained to his people? Eventually, though, he set the welding tool down on a nearby box and stretched out his shoulders. "It's Mando'a, the language of Mandalorians."
"I don't have a translator, so...what does Harchock mean?
"Haar'chak." He corrected her pronunciation a bit, stressing the first syllable. "It's a curse."
"Like 'fuck?'"
"Closer to 'damn it.'"
She grinned. "Haar'chak..." She tried out again, liking the way it rolled from her lips.
"Better." He said neutrally with a nod.
Maybe it was the fact that she knew so little about him that this conversation drew her in so much. They were still little more than strangers, thrown together by circumstance and a business arrangement. And while she figured it was probably smarter to keep some sort of distance between them, she knew her own years of traveling the galaxy completely alone and without a friend would no doubt push her to form a closer bond with her two ship-mates. And seeing as the little green baby couldn't speak, her first choice was the closed-off Mandalorian.
"Tell me another word." She said, curiosity piqued. The language of such a mysterious people would fascinate anyone, surely. Getting comfortable, she sat on one of the cargo boxes and gave the helmeted man her full attention.
"..." His helmet tilted, just so, perhaps caught off guard that she'd wanted to know more. "What else did you want to know?"
"Hmm..." She hummed, looking around the ship for anything that might provide inspiration. With so many things to choose from, she didn't know where to begin. Her eyes settled on the shiny armor of her companion. "What about...bounty hunter?"
"Beroya."
"Are all Mandalorians...beroya?" She decided to ask, trying out the new word with less confidence than him.
"Not all, but most I'm aware of."
"Are there a lot of Mandalorians? You don't see them anywhere." She continued, and his posture became a bit rigid.
"...Not as many as there used to be."
Clearly she was edging towards a subject he didn't like, so she looked around for something more innocent.
"What's the word for red?" Anwyn pointed to his piled-up cloak on the box nearby, and he looked where she was indicating.
"Ge'tal."
"What do I call someone if they're an idiot? That might be useful in the future..." She pondered to herself with a smile, though the small pause after her statement from the helmet made it apparent that he didn't think the same.
"They would be a di'kut." He said. "Just as you are a chakaar."
Anwyn narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"
"Thief."
She paused, then raised her brows. "Is it an endearing term at least?"
"No."
"Oh."
When it became apparent that Anwyn had run out of words to ask meanings for, he turned his attention back at the vent that was giving them so much trouble. Even now, the ship's air began to taste a little too metallic to be normal. He gave another sigh, he changed the subject. "With my armor, I can't fit through the small space. I'll have to remove it to get further in."
The implication that she leave was pretty glaring. Obviously such a suggestion was uncomfortable. They'd managed so far without bringing up the topic of his armor at all. She knew from rumors that Mandalorians never removed their helmets in the presence of others, something to do with their religious beliefs, and figured it wasn't a good idea to ask directly about it to a man who hunted people like her for a living. She wasn't sure how far her nannying duty would protect her from being thrown into the carbonite chamber if he got angry enough.
Anwyn took another look at the vent, then down at herself, measuring dimensions in her head. "I'm pretty small, you know. I might be able to fit."
He turned to her again, the helmet blank but his body language expressing surprise. "Do you know how to repair an air circulator?"
Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Not exactly, but I'm sure you could direct me once I'm up there."
He paused again, glancing between her and the vent in question, before grabbing the welding tool he'd been using before and extending it to her. "I suppose I can."
Accepting the welder, Anwyn stepped up to where the maintenance vent was located, craning her neck up to see into it. Now that she was stood beside it, it was clear that she wouldn't manage to get up to it's height by herself. Her glance at the Mandalorian confirmed he knew it as well.
He cupped his hands together and she graciously placed her boot between them. With a hand on his cold, beskar pauldron, and trying to ignore the moment she was almost directly staring into his visor, she was hoisted up easily. Going hands-first so she'd be able to reach the panel in question, she was able to wiggle herself halfway into the vent without much trouble.
It was also painfully obvious that in doing so, her ass was probably sticking out from the vent, but there really wasn't much she could do about that right now. She only stopped when the tops of her thighs pressed against the wall. The position wasn't exactly comfortable, but her small frame meant that the walls didn't press too hard against her shoulders.
It was tight, the small square shaft meant only for little droids to easily reach areas for maintenance, so it wasn't exactly a pretty sight either. All technical and nothing done for cosmetic purposes. Various wires and lights littered the interior.
"What am I looking for?" She asked once she'd oriented herself. Her voice seemed so much louder within the vent.
"There should be a panel on the right side." She heard distantly.
"Umm..." Her eyes skated around the shaft, searching for what he described. "There's a lot of panels in here. You're gonna have to be more specific."
"There aren't any wires. It'll have a blinking orange light indicating it isn't functioning." He provided patiently.
With this new information, she did another glance around, finally spotting what she thought he was referring to. "Is it a rectangular panel?"
"Should be."
"Alright, I think I found it..." She said, feeling a little out of breath with her forced to lay on her stomach. Her eyes skimmed over the panel, trying to see what it was she was even there for. "Oh...there's a tear in the metal, is that what I'm fixing?"
She wasn't sure how such a thing could have occurred, but they did run through some turbulence the day before while navigating through a asteroid field. Perhaps the jostling had put too much stress on the material.
"Yes, you'll have to seal it. Just try not to touch any of the electrical components or you'll fry the whole system." Was his reply.
Anwyn rolled her eyes to herself. No pressure now, is there?
With a glance at the welder in her hand, she brought it closer to the tear and began work. It sparked to life in her hands, scratching out a slew of electric buzzes as it touched the surface of the metal.
She'd seen lots of repairs be done before, mostly from hidden spots within ships while their owners worked mid-hyperdrive. Given there was little entertainment when stowing away on ships, she'd often resort to watching her pilots as they went about their business. She may not be an expert, but she knew the very basics of repair based on what she'd witnessed them do.
Bright sparks shot from the point of contact, but despite the inclination to pull her arm away, she kept it trained on the line of metal that she wanted focus on. Past the buzzing of the tool, she could hear the Mandalorian pacing behind her, perhaps wondering what her progress was but trying to not ask out loud and make it obvious he was antsy. She held back a grin with difficulty.
After a moment, she stopped working, blinking away the spots in her eyes and inspecting her work. It wasn't perfect, but it looked suitable enough. At least, she hoped.
"Is it done?" He called, and she tried inching forward a little to see better her handiwork.
"I think so...I'm no mechanic, but...the light's not blinking anymore, so I think that means it's working?"
"Let's find out..."
"But I'm still in here!" She cried in a sudden panic, worried that if it was done wrong it would explode in her face upon activation or something. "At least let me out first."
"You'll be fine. It's not gonna blow up." He said as if reading her mind, and she heard a few systems begin to click into place.
Her face scrunched up in a wince, awaiting whatever was going to happen. With a small beep, the panel's light began blinking green, and the familiar sound of the air filters circulating and pushing air through the ship started up. A breeze brushed her arms and face. After several seconds of nothing sounding out of place, Anwyn breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she'd managed to help somehow.
"I think everything's working properly." She said, relaxing herself a little to make it easier for him to pull her out. But after several seconds of nothing but silence, no indication that he was reaching to help her at all, she frowned. "I...might need a little help out of here, you know."
Silence. With her arms technically up above her head in this position, it was very difficult to actually shimmy herself backwards.
"Hello?" What the hell was he doing? Anwyn growled under her breath. "Mando!"
With full use of her legs behind her, she extended them in an effort to kick herself backwards a little, but the heel of her boot connected with something hard and sturdy. She heard the man grunt as he was kicked backwards. It was solid enough that she could tell it was his chest plate she'd pushed against. Realizing he hadn't just left her and was just standing there, she huffed in annoyance. "Are you enjoying the fucking view or something?"
"I was testing the system to make sure everything came back normal. Relax." He said in excuse. Then, after a pause. "Not a bad view either, though."
Anwyn scoffed to herself, somewhat speechless that he'd admitted such a thing in the first place, before a laugh burst from her throat. The unexpectedness of it shocked her into amusement, and she pressed her forehead into the vent below her to stifle the laughter.
So he does have a sense of humor. Good to know.
"Well, come closer then so I can shove my boot somewhere your beskar doesn't cover!" She said louder, though without the venom of her previous statement. This earned her a huffed chuckle from him, almost lost through the modulator, but after a moment she felt his gloved hand wrap around her thighs to begin pulling her from the vent. She tightened her shoulders in to make it easier, finally emerging from the tight space and back into the cargo bay.
The temperature was instantly cooler, and she realized that it had grown several degrees hotter while in the vent due to the small space. He respectfully placed her back on her feet before letting her brush herself down and fix the hair that was stuck in strange places.
She could almost feel his stare through the helmet. Anwyn threw him a smirk and an eye roll as she returned to the mess room to finish the rest of her undoubtedly now-cold meal. Neither really knew how to take the conversation from there, so both just let it drop. But it was a nice start to a not-so-strained mood on the ship. A first since they'd started traveling together. Perhaps it would open the door for a more comfortable atmosphere between the two of them.
He turned away to finish up whatever he needed to, and she ascended the ladder to the upper floor. The brunette took a quick glance at the nav computer in the cockpit again to see their progress along their journey. No closer than they had been when she'd woken up that 'morning.' With a sigh, she told herself to stop watching the navigation so frequently. Not like it would make them fly any faster.
Stepping through the kitchen door, she stopped short and recoiled with a loud gasp. Without really meaning to, she let a breathless "Fuck!"
She heard commotion below, most likely the Mandalorian moving to see what her outburst had been about, and he clamored up the ladder soon after. "What happened?" He asked insistently.
Her eyes were stuck on the plate that was currently levitating above the table, spinning slowly in place. Levitating. By itself. Whatever food had been left over from before she got up was now gone, but no remnants of it remained on the table anywhere. Instead of the surprise she'd been expecting from him, Mando only sighed.
"Hey, stop that." She heard him say, brushing past her to grab the plate from midair and set it back down on the table.
Her eyes shot over to the kid still in his seat, who'd had his eyes closed and his hands up towards the plate that had just until a moment ago been floating in place. It took a few seconds to really put the pieces together, but then she pointed at the little green child.
"He...made it float." She summarized. "He can make things float? Without touching them?"
"He's...different." Mando admitted, looking down at the child rather than at her. The green baby looked exhausted, as if whatever he'd just done had taken all of his energy to do. It probably had.
Another thought popped into her head, and she frowned. "You knew and you didn't tell me?" That finally earned his attention.
"The Imperials are hunting him because of his powers. I can't risk the wrong person knowing about it." He explained with more certainty. "I was going to eventually, but I guess the kid had other plans."
"...what is he?"
The answer wasn't immediate, with Mando holding the kid in his arms and staring down at him thoughtfully. "I've been told he's one of the jedi."
"Jedi?" Her brows furrowed.
The word brought back memories of when she was younger, of nights when her step father would drunkenly slander the mythical figures. If his account of their integrity was anything to go by, they weren't legends of paragons. "I thought they were just a superstition."
"Mandalorians consider them our ancient enemy. They must have existed at one point." He went on quietly, his helmet shaking back and forth a little. "I'm hoping there are still some left so I can return him to his people."
Shoving past all the endless questions in her head, Anwyn stared back down at the baby and tried seeing it from Mando's perspective. Things were beginning to make sense now. The bay technician that had stolen him, and the lengths the Imps had been willing to go just to get him back.
The little green child's eyes sleepily blinked up at her, and she wondered not for the first time just how much of their conversation he could understand. Those eyes, so incredibly innocent. Anwyn almost found herself stuck staring into them.
"What else can he do?" She asked quietly.
"He can heal wounds, and...create forcefields, I think." Mando held out his hand, palm facing outward. "He stopped the flames of a trooper's weapons just by holding up his hands."
"How many people know?"
"About his powers?" His helmet shook again. "Besides me and a few trusted people...I have to assume all of the Imperials."
"Shit."
"Mmm."
The baby chose that moment to coo, nuzzling into the Mandalorian's arms to settle into a sleep. Eyes closed, ears down in a resting state, he looked so small. Not at all capable of moving things with his mind alone. Both adults looked down at him for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.
Anwyn gave a little scoff then, a thought coming to mind. "You're pretty attached to the little guy...protecting him and bringing him with you all this time. Are you gonna be able to let him go when you do find the jedi?"
So are you, her mind decided to whisper.
For a time there was no reply. She tried seeing some sign through the reflective beskar helmet, but she could only see her own eyes staring back. Then he shifted forward and placed the now-sleeping baby into her arms.
"This is the Way." He said softly, brushing past her to go back to the cockpit.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
