A Good Thing

-confusion-

A/N OK. I feel like it is important to address the idea that the Mandalorians in the show are coded as post holocaust Jews. I think this is nonsense and honestly problematic but because of the idea of cross side relationships and the conversations that happen in this chapter I feel like I need to explain myself. If all we knew about their people or history was what we got from the new show then I could maybe see the comparison. HOWEVER we have a lot of history. Comparing the Jewish people, who have historically been persecuted and NOT imperialist mass murderers is messed up. The Mandalorians have been just that. In legends, there are many examples of the horrible things they have done and the entire populations they have wiped out. They commit genocide. AND, while I do not condone nor agree it was the right call, I can understand why from a strictly military point of view why the Empire chose to eliminate them. They were a military threat, they cost the Empire in all of the ways that putting down constant insurrections cost in men, and resources. It really wasn't like they just saw a new planet and thought, meh we want to live here now lets kill them all. Which the Mandalorians have done. Again, not saying the Empire hasn't done horrible things and I am not saying wiping out the Mandalorians was a good thing, just trying to explain why I really don't like comparing them to Jews. this is relevant to my story because I think it is clear that I created Asta with Migs in mind and I can not imagine a holocaust survivior being with a former Nazi soldier. That just... feels all kinds of wrong. I don't want anyone to come into this with that poor comparison in mind and be offended by the way my story is going.

 Chapter 38

-confusion-

It had been a stupid idea, he could see that now. Mera had told him to be careful and not to try to get up by himself but he was sick of being so helpless. He should have listened to her, she was usually right. Now he sat sprawled awkwardly on the floor. His knee had given out after only a few steps and it throbbed with pain at a crooked angle.

"Dank ferrik!"

Migs grabbed his thigh and groaned as he tried gingerly to straighten it. Managing that, he leaned back against the side of his bed and sighed in frustration. Asta was around somewhere but he didn't want to call out to her.

He hadn't needed to worry about that.

The sliding door to his room slammed open and she appeared, beskar chest plate missing and flight-suit hanging open, revealing a tan colored tank beneath.

"What happened? Migs are you ok? Why are you on the floor?"

Suddenly she was crouching beside him, hand on the bed beside his head as she looked into his face with concerned, questioning eyes. With her flight-suit hanging open, he could see that the freckles that dusted her face did in fact extend down her slender neck and across the tops of her breasts. He'd wondered about that. Distracted, he ran his tongue along his teeth as he tried to think of an answer to her question.

"Thought I'd take a sightseeing stroll through town.... Forgot I'm still an invalid." When he finally drug his eyes away from her chest to her face, she was watching him with pursed lips and a slight frown.

"Omera told you not to try that on your own yet. You need a brace and help or, a crutch at least." She smacked his shoulder and tugged up the zipper on her flight-suit. "And don't stare at my breasts."

Sighing dramatically, he held his hands up in defeat before dropping them to his lap. "Ya I know; listen to Mera, don't stare at cleavage right in front of my face. Fine, got it. Kriff will you just help me up?"

One of her dark brows arched in question.

"Fine. Asta will you please help me off the floor?"