Spoils of War (The Mandalorian/Din Djarin)

Episode VIII: Lessons

Repulsors thundered overhead as the ship slowly descended to Nevarro's surface. Tala took a step or two back out of the looming shadow, shielding her eyes when she was once again in the blinding noon sun. Romy's Corellian freighter finished landing and settled onto the flat rocky ground, then outgassed and groaned as the engines cut off. The ramp began to lower and Tala wet her lips in anticipation, hovering in place as her nerves teemed.

It seemed to take forever until Romy came sauntering down the ramp with R5 trailing behind. Tala's expectancy intensified at the sight of a slim, book-sized paper envelope under the smuggler's arm. Looking dapper and strong as always, Romy extended the envelope to Tala as she reached the end of the ramp and raised her flight goggles up, letting them clap to her coiled hairline. "Here you go, newbie. The very mysterious package you paid me to bring halfway across the galaxy." She studied Tala's apprehensive reaction to the item with interest and a hint of concern. "What's in there, anyway?"

Tala's eyes snapped up. R5 toddled by, belching bleeps. Romy had proven to be a good friend in the past few months. But some things didn't feel safe to say. Thankfully, her notable silence was interjected by the abrupt sound of liquid spraying. Both women looked: R5 was outletting built-up oil (a shiny, gooey sludge) just a few paces away. Romy was immediately dismayed. "Five, do you really have to do that so close?!" She put her hands on her hips and exhaled hard, shaking her head as she looked to Tala wanly. "No manners. None."

Glad for the change of subject, Tala chuckled uneasily and eyed Romy's ship while she bent the envelope and crammed it deep into a large coverall pocket where it could stay hidden. "How's that catalytic thrust installation working out for you, by the way?"

Eyeing Tala with pleasant knowing, Romy didn't bring up the unanswered question. "Haven't had any more problems with the launch sequence. But I'm sure I'll be back soon to see you whenever the next thing starts falling off." She winked.

"Job security," Tala joked—which was usually Kizzo's line. Backing up with a friendly smile, she made her exit. "Thanks for the delivery, Romy! I've gotta get back to the shop." Romy saluted jokingly and then went to go complain at R5.

Tala's face lost expression as she turned and headed back toward town with racing thoughts, weaving through a few closely disembarked, silent ships. In the pocket where she'd shoved it, the envelope practically burned. The more she thought about opening it, the more her stomach churned.

Nearby, a cluster of townspeople circled a gleaming luxury Solar Sailer—a rare sighting in quiet out-of-the-way places like Nevarro. Appreciative comments drifted and as Tala passed, a member of the crowd happened to glance over, locking eyes by chance. It was Greef Karga, whose gaze narrowed hard in an unmistakable expression: recognition. Stomach flipping in panic, her pulse rocketed and hammered so hard it felt like she was being pummeled, Tala kept going, trying to act like nothing was wrong. But with every carefully timed step she took, she was more and more convinced that she had just been caught.

Thoroughly rattled, the anxiety only persisted and intensified as Tala went about her day. It left her so edgy that she felt sick. She skipped lunch, installed an entire panel of cooling coils backward, and couldn't focus. It was a lot: the envelope and Greef recognizing her... both on the same day. As she felt more and more pressure mounting throughout the hours, she began to question if he had recognized her. It might be paranoia. Right?

Ever since arriving here, she'd been so careful to avoid Karga and anyone else who she had been able to identify as a potential risk to her security. She never went into the cantina, she wore a blast helmet around town half the time, and she always kept an eye out for anyone who looked Guild-affiliated.