The Art of Chaos and Darkness

Chapter Two

Din Djarin stared at the endless void of space before him, trying and failing not to look at the empty seat to his right.

The absence of the child, Grogu, as his companion was still an open wound that stung more than he cared to admit.  He never would have guessed he would miss having the little guy around so much.  But Din knew Grogu was in a better and safer place than he could ever offer him. 

This was the first job he'd taken since the events of Moff Gideon's ship and Din strangely felt out of his element. Almost as if he'd lost his edge. As if he'd forgotten how to be the cold and unforgiving man he was before Grogu and the rest of his... friends?

Were they friends? Do I have friends?

Din pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. He needed to focus and forget about the past. It would only distract him more and lead to his own death or failure to deliver this bounty. He fished out the data pad the Trandoshan had given him. The screen glowed as it came to life.

Din had known ahead of time this job would be time consuming. Not because of issues of tracking down the quarry- in fact that had been the easy part. The difficult and time consuming part was where he'd been instructed to take this woman. A system and planet he'd never heard of.

Moraband. 

Not only was it unfamiliar but it was at least a week's of travel away not counting the fuel and resource stops. Din never would have taken this job if it weren't for the promised pay. An astronomical amount. An amount that gave him the option of never having to accept another bounty again.

The prospect of that was something that never would have appealed to him before. But after the events that had occurred a little less than a month ago, things were different. He was different.

Now retirement on a quiet planet someplace seemed nice.  Maybe he'd go back to visit Cara.  Buy a farm. Live in peace.

Din input the coordinates of the route into the ship and settled in as he made the jump to hyperspace. The blackness around him gave way to the stars streaming past at lightspeed in a display of blue, azure and white. He glanced down, remembering the data pad. It held the basic info, the reward amount, the delivery planet but some of the instructions were more specific, not to remove the restraints under any circumstances or leave the prisoner alone-

Shit

He glanced at the closed door behind him.  She seemed hardly conscious when he'd left her. And prone to pass out at any second. What damage could she possibly do? Still, it was imperative to his employers she was delivered alive. He pushed himself to his feet and the doors hissed open as he strode out of the cockpit.

The dim lights of the cargo hold flickered overhead as they flew. She was just where he'd left her, sitting on the floor, wrists restrained. He wished he'd had time to outfit this ship with the carbonite machine like the Razor Crest. It would have made this job much easier.

The woman's head was to the side, her eyes closed. Blood dripped from her neck, the shock collar glinting in the hazy light.  The remote felt like a weight in his pocket but he didn't dare remove it if even if she seemed harmless. 

He'd learned nothing was ever as it seemed. 

The shadows cast dark angles across her bronzed skin.  Her hair, as black as the void of space around them, was loose and brushed just across her collarbones.  Her cheekbones were so sharp he wondered when the last time she had been given real food.  Or water. She felt as if she weighed little to nothing when he'd pulled her to her feet by the back of her shirt. His helmet told him she was alive but just barely.  Her pulse was so faint he half expected it to stop at any moment. 

Din turned to the side, opening one of the crates stacked against the wall. Inside were stock piles of rations. He nudged the prisoner with his foot.  "Wake up."

She stirred, eyes opening slowly and fixing upon him. Those eyes had given him a start when he'd first seen her.  Gold and amber and orange seemed mixed within them, like a desert sunset on Tatooine.  She blinked at him, almost uncomprehending but the movement seemed more animalistic than anything. 

"Eat."  He tossed the packaged food at her feet. 

She uncoiled faster than he was aware she was capable of.  The thin length of chain allowed her to just reach the package and tear it open aggressively.  She had downed half the food by the time he had put the lid back on the crate. She finished the entire thing in a matter of minutes and leaned back again, closing her eyes.

"The Trandoshan was starving you." His voice was eerie in the silence of the ship. So strange to talk to any one other than Grogu now. To another human being.

She opened her eyes.  "What's it to you?"

"I need you alive if I am to receive my payment."

"He fed me twice a week. Two rations. Plenty of water." Her eyes glowed in the dark, two burning embers. "I'd expect you to do the same."

"No." He could have sworn something flashed in her eyes. He continued. "It was killing you. Slowly but surely. Breaking your body down. Continue it and you'll be dead by the time we reach our destination."

Her gaze was on him, unblinking. Despite himself, despite the armor and helmet- it felt as if she were looking into his soul. His brutalized, tattered soul and seeing every single piece of him. The hair on his neck rose.

The woman leaned back again and finally closed her eyes. Din shuddered slightly and shook off the feeling. He really was going soft to be unnerved by a starved female, half his size. He wasn't even sure if he could still call himself a Mandalorian. 

He'd broken the creed how many times?

From beneath his helmet he studied her. Her name wasn't listed on the data pad.  Just a chain code with a basic description. Weight and height and other physical attributes.  Plus the bolded warning that she was considered to be an extreme threat.

Din stood and moved to the storage closet that currently housed his weapons and ammunition. This wasn't the same as the Razor Crest and he missed the old classic. After a few upgrades this one had moved welled enough and blended in. It also was a plus that it had more space.  Still though, he felt a sense of longing for the familiarity of the Razor Crest and the memories of Grogu it held.

He shook his head at himself.  When had he ever been one to get so attached to things?