Another Way: A Mandalorian Story

Cabour

Cabuor - [kah-BOO- or] - Protect

Summary: Din and you continue to travel through the galaxy, but an incident causes him to reconsider whether this life is right for you...and him.

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Trips to Nevarro to collect rewards and pucks. More quarries. More stops on mostly desolate planets. Boredom and loneliness as you look for things to occupy yourself while waiting for Din. Yearning for him and his touch. It's all you know. But as long as he returns to you at the end of a hunt, you don't complain. It's not always comfortable, not always enjoyable, but it's the adventure you always dreamed of as a kid. Not to mention you're traveling with a man who you love with the intensity of Tatooine's twin suns.

You're happiest when Din finishes a hunt, when the two of you can just relax and enjoy one another's company while the ship hurdles itself through space. You two have found plenty of ways to pass the time. Recently, you offered to teach him to play sabacc while he tries to teach you Mando'a. He uses the numbers on the cards to help you learn to count – solus, one, t'ad, two, ehn, three, cuir, four, rayshe'a, five, resol, six, e'tad, seven, she'ehn, eight, she'cu, nine, ta'raysh, ten – Maker. You see yourself as a pretty good sabacc player but trying to count in a different language adds a whole new level of difficulty to the game.

"Haar'chak!" Din swears as he slams his cards down on the galley table. Damn it.

You cackle and reach out to collect the cards. He's a sore loser, and you love it. It feels kind of good to better than him at something for once. "How would you say, 'Suck it up' in Mando'a?" Your look up at him as you gather the cards into a pile.

He glares at you but remains silent, his arms folded in front of him, sulking.

"C'mon, Din, I can't learn if you don't teach me." While waiting for his response, you split the deck into two piles, taking one in each hand and riffling the cards.

He sighs. "K'atini..." Din reluctantly replies, his tone tart.

"Well, then, k'atini." You giggle as you bend the cards towards you and allow them to cascade into a neat stack.

"What's your secret?" Din asks simply. He leans back in his chair and props his feet on the table, anchoring his attention on you.

"Secret?" you question, blinking with feigned innocence. "I don't have any secrets." You set the deck down and look up at him. "Peli could tell you that I was the best amongst the mechanics in Mos Eisley."

"Where'd you learn?"

"My father taught me when I was young," you respond, remembering the times you'd sit at the kitchen table of your childhood home, your father helping you learn all the suits, the face cards, the pairs, their values. Through the eyes of a child, you never knew he had a gambling problem. "He spent a lot of nights trying to gamble our profits away. Nearly lost the entire farm on a high-stake game once. Fortunately, luck seems to run in my family."

"You call this luck?" he scoffs. "A novice playing an expert. I call it unfair."

You chuckle. "No fairer than when we do target practice together." You take the deck of cards back into your hand. "How about another round? Winner can fuck me. Maybe I'll let you win." You wink.

He places his feet back onto the floor and gestures for you to hand him the deck. "I think I can win without your help."

"Cocky. I like that." You chortle and hand him the cards.

Din hands out the cards, two apiece. He scowls as he looks at what he's given himself. "You know, I don't think you've ever told me your favorite color."