Mandalorian Lost

Chapter 12

"Tara!" A distant voice calls my name, though it sounds miles away. "Tara!" It cries again, and suddenly the fog begins to clear. I'd know that voice anywhere.

Pre Vizsla.

"Tara, you must get up. You're stronger than this," he orders, his voice hard and unyielding like it always was. I peel my eyes open and stare as his helmet swims into focus. I imagine the Vizsla clan symbol stretching its bony fingers up the skull portion of the helmet, hiding the deep, angry gash that sprawls across his cheek and the bridge of his nose. He's not my father, but since my father died in some Death Watch skirmish before I was old enough to have a memory of him, Pre Viszla's been the closest thing I had to one.

My eyebrows pull together as my vision finally focuses. There's no Vizsla symbol, no hard grit lining every edge and corner of the Mandalorian helmet. It's pure beskar, but it's unaltered beskar. No paint, no symbol, just sparkling silver shining back at me. The voice shouts at me again and my shoulders shake rapidly as strong hands grip them. The voice isn't Pre Vizsla's anymore.

"Tara!" Mando shouts, shaking me even harder. I groan, pushing myself up on my elbows. He backs off, still crouched a few inches in front of me. The sand beneath my feet shifts as I move. The twin suns beat down on me without mercy. Tatooine, I think this planet was called. It's hard to remember. My dreams had been filled with the Vizsla clan in all its glory, mingled with flashes of that peaceful village on Sorgan. "Tara, what happened?" His voice pulls me further back to reality, despite my wish to remain in whatever peaceful dreamscape my mind had gifted me.

I look around, blinking slowly as the morning's events rush back to me. A dark figure catches the corner of my eye and I turn, sucking in a gasp through my teeth at the dead woman slumped beside me. Fennec Shand. Assassin. Toro's bounty. Toro.

"My staff!" I cry, my hands whipping around to grope the empty sheath on my back. The fast movements send my head swirling and I groan. Mando's hands find my shoulders again, but I shove him off. "That womp rat took my staff!"

"Okay, okay, hang on—"

"That is a beskar staff, I cannot lose it!" I shout before I can stop myself. I swallow, hoping he doesn't try to connect the dots to figure out why the beskar would mean so much to me. It's the only thing I have that came from Mandalore. It's the one thing I can carry from home.

He stills, his hands hovering near me. His helmet dips downward as if he's trying to level his eyes with mine. "I understand." Somehow, I do find that reassuring. "Do you have an idea of where he was headed? Does he know about the kid?"

A pang of guilt swirls through me. I hadn't even thought of the child. I swallow thickly and comb through my memories for a clue. My eyes widen and I stagger to my feet as they come rushing back once again. "He knows, Mando, he's gonna take the kid. You, me, and the kid are all wanted by the Guild. He's gonna try to take us back to Nevarro." He stands beside me and nods as I vomit the words out in a speed that's barely even coherent. When I'm done I clamp my mouth shut, watching as he scans the horizon around us. Never-ending sand.

Except for the giant, lumpy dewback standing right in front of us, that I hadn't even noticed before.

"Okay. We'll head back to the ship. He won't take the kid without capturing us too. We can take him together," Mando says, already heading for the dewback. I follow him quickly, but I pause when I realize how high up the dewback reaches. I'll need the force to help me jump up there for sure.

Mando must mistake my hesitation for needing help, because without a word he suddenly places his hands on my waist. I turn sharply to look into his visor, not surprised when I'm met with emptiness as always. His fingers squeeze lightly as he lifts me up into the air. I quickly grab onto the dewback's saddle and pull myself the rest of the way.