weaponry ; the mandalorian

IIS: EIGHTEEN

The planet they descend upon is one Jana had never heard of, and how Din found it, she'll never fully know. Nonetheless, she takes in the lush green mountain peaks and foggy skies, the starfighter gliding them through and above with ease.

In her seat, Jana's leg bounces up and down, and she finds it hard to sit still. She swears she can feel him somewhere down below waiting for them. Their little green foundling. Grogu.

She can't help but replay the last time she saw him over and over again in her head. She had been clutching him as dark troopers pounded at a locked exit moments before a Jedi showed up, saving the day. Not just any Jedi, but Luke Skywalker. The one who had killed the Emperor.

The name rattles something familiar through Jana, years spent on the farm next to his for much of her life, taking the young boy on supply runs and teaching him to calibrate moisture collection machines. Jana being nearly a decade older than him, found the young boy to be annoying at the time. But their uncles were friends, they helped each other. And so, the young Calmiken and Skywalker did the same.

Then, of course, there's what came after she took the title.

Killshot had been by Vader's side in the Cloud City. She'd seen Skywalker's friend encapsulated in carbonite, heard the Wookie's wails of grief when he was passed over to Boba Fett to return and pay his debts to Jabba the Hutt. She'd been cursed by the lost Princess of Alderaan herself for letting it happen.

Killshot remembers the look of recognition on Luke's face when he came into the room and saw her with the legendary blaster in hand. When he saw the red scope in front of her eye.

"Jana?" He had quietly wondered as he stared into her hollowed out, numb eyes.

She had clenched her jaw before speaking, "Not anymore."

Vader hadn't needed her for the confrontation, only to keep Solo in line. So she was dismissed before he confronted the young Jedi.

Killshot hadn't seen him again for years. The Rebellion continued resisting the hold of the growing Empire, and Killshot kept smothering out their growing flame of hope.

Luke Skywalker encountered Killshot again the second Death Star. The space station was crumbling apart, and the sharpshooter saw him hauling Darth Vader's limp body onto a ship. Something had possessed her then, something foreign and powerful, telling her deep in her bones that her commander was dead.

She screamed. A grief she hadn't realized would overcome her forcing Killshot to fire her blaster, and Luke dodged it before pulling out his lightsaber, igniting it to reveal a green blade.

He was trying to speak to her, to beg her to listen so they could escape before the space station exploded. All Killshot could hear was the fire of her blaster as they danced a deadly duet. She had almost gotten him in the gut, in the heart, too many places to name. But whatever force that flowed through him was powerful, and he evaded each of her well-timed trigger pulls.

She was pinned after a few moments, hot tears running down her cheeks and the floor shaking beneath her. Luke's lightsaber had been close enough to her throat that she could feel the deadly heat radiating off of it. It made her sweat.

"Do it," Killshot had sobbed, "End it. Please."

"I won't," Luke stated, calm and strong, "I know who you are."

"I'm Killshot, Luke. If I live, all that awaits me is more death. End it, and the Galaxy will thank you."

Luke had retracted the saber, and Jana sobbed yet again, alarms ringing throughout the docking bay as a warning. They didn't have long.