Armored Passion | The Mandalorian

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Rhydonium. 

The smell lingers heavily in the air as we walk through the large refinery, making me scrunch my nose in an attempt to escape the sharp scent. This place is crawling with working stormtroopers that are lined with dust and splotches of chrome-colored substances on parts of their grey, beige, and white armor. A few officers are lounging around the refinery as well, drinking and eating without a care in the world. 

It's all fucking unnerving. 

"Hey, you," Roger calls out, catching the attention of a stormtrooper clad in dirty grey armor. "I'm looking for General Valin Hess. Moff Gideon has requested for Mae Dameron to be delivered to him for the day."

"I'm not some fucking package that you can just deliver, asshole," I snap, glaring at Roger. He roughly grabs my shoulder, yanking me closer to his side so the other trooper can get a better look at who I am. I glare at them both for a few short moments before letting my brown eyes lock onto the floor beneath us, my mind slowly spacing off as they indulge in a quiet conversation together. 

As I stare off into absolutely nothing, a certain pull in the force makes my head unintentionally twitch to the side. The feeling is warm, comforting, and familiar—a little too familiar, to be exact. I furrow my brows and look up, letting my head whip over to the right before my eyes slowly trail around the large facility. It isn't until I look over to my left into a mess hall that I spot what I've been sensing. 

Well, it's more like who I've been sensing. 

Din and Mayfeld—fucking Mayfeld of all people—are sitting with the one and only Valin Hess. They're both clad in flimsy stormtrooper armor, but neither of them is wearing the uncomfortable-looking helmet that they're supposed to be spotting. 

I can see Din's perfectly messy curls atop his head, his warm brown eyes that seem to be full of trepidation, his lips that are turned down in a slight frown, and the patchy scruff that lines his strong jaw. 

My eyes widen and my heart practically drops down to my stomach as I try to process the situation at hand. There are way too many questions rushing through my mind right now and I'm not too sure if I'm going to be able to really get any of them out. I open my mouth to say something as I try to make my way over to where they're sitting, but Roger whacks me upside the head and pulls me back over to his side. 

"Stay put, Dameron," he spits at me. Lucky for me, he said it loud enough for a certain someone to hear. Din's head immediately snaps to the side and his gaze meets mine. His eyes widen in an instant, full of fear and confusion as he looks me over. Roger shoves my shoulder again, almost recapturing my full attention. "Let's go, Jedi scum."

I can't find it in me to move; my body and mind are completely struck with shock from the sight set in front of me. Why the fuck is Din not wearing his helmet? And what the hell happened to his usual beskar armor? There's no way that he'd actually willingly break his Creed—let alone break it in an Imperial base in front of Mayfeld and a bunch of kriffing stormtroopers. 

Electrical currents suddenly shoot through my body from the tight metal collar wrapped around my neck, making my muscles tense and seize up. I let out a cry and fall to the floor once Roger releases me from the grasps of the invigorating electrical currents. I clench my jaw and look towards the ground, letting the trooper yank me back up to my feet. I stumble a bit as he leads me over to the table that Din and Mayfeld are sitting at. 

"General Valin Hess, I'm here to deliver Mae Dameron for the day," Roger says, pushing me closer to the low-set metal table. I grind my teeth as Hess steps up to me. He hooks my chin with two of his gloved fingers, forcing me to look up at him and meet his piercing eyes. I glare at him and he smiles, slowly nodding his head.