Against the Odds

Chapter 22: The Tales of Old

Second to last chapter!

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The clouds above were thick and heavy as they poured rain down to the planet. It'd been far too long since it'd rained like this, anyone could tell. The hard earth seemed to reject it causing all the excess water to flow and become rivers that tore the tall grass from the ground. Thunder rumbled overhead and strikes of lightning lit their path but they were unbothered. All four of them were worn and the long trek back to the Crest was doing no one any favors. Throughout it, no one said a word, they all were far too lost in their own minds.

Lara's boots trudged through wet plants and mud as the sound of rushing water and rain filled her ears. Her hair was plastered to her face and water dripped down her nose and cheeks but she held the Child closer to keep him warm and dry. He rested in the crook of her arm, partially in her jacket while her other arm hung above her head to block out the rain. Her worried eyes mainly focused on her mother and the Mandalorian ahead of her. She saw how bad Vella's condition was and knew there was only so much bacta could do, but her mother had been through a lot worse. Vella Delaba was a fighter, it'd take a lot more than this to keep her down. At least, that's what the girl kept telling herself.

Bimin coughed and his shoulders shook as a chill rolled through him. He was freezing and the leftover anxiety hadn't gone away yet. Malik's apology came out of nowhere but it still didn't calm his nerves. He couldn't get the angry way they all yelled and threatened him out of his mind. Bimin supposed he'd just hope... well... that the next time he ran into his crew, this truce would still amount to something.

Each rumble of thunder that rolled through the clouds and each strike of lightning that hit the ground was felt vividly by Nahla's montrals. The storm gave no sign of letting up. The downpour that nearly took her daughter would continue, and the storm ahead would be just as deadly if not more so. Nahla sighed, forcing herself to loosen her shoulders. Vella would awaken, and when she did... well... they'd figure out the next storm together.

With a grunt, Din adjusted his grip on Vella. His boot slid on slick mud but he steadied his feet and kept them both upright. As treacherous as the terrain was, his mind was somehow so much worse. Thoughts raged in his head. Questions. Accusations. Hopes. Vella had saved him and the Child, she'd been willing to die in order to keep them alive. Her expression was plastered in his mind as she stared down sadly at the kid. For some reason it caused him pain. He'd hated how helpless and terrified she'd looked, all because she imagined the baby would die with her.

He gazed down at her lying unconscious in his arms. Her head was leaned against his chestplate, her arms crossed on her stomach with water droplets streaming down her face. Din knew he'd been wrong to let her go. Or at least, he'd been wrong about the reason he'd let her go. He knew deep down she was trustworthy, even if he still couldn't bring himself to blindly trust her again. What she'd done for them and for people who'd tortured and tried to kill her... was admirable. Yet a life threatening rescue didn't cover over the mountains of questions he still had.

Eventually the odd crew found themselves at the base of the Crest. Lara had never been so relieved to see this good old piece of junk. She plopped down on the metal floor, soaked to the bone and shivering. Grabbing one of her blankets, she started drying off her hair and carefully wiping away the water from the baby's face as well.

Din very carefully, and with difficulty, laid Vella in his bunk. Once she was properly situated he called Lara and took the baby from her while she climbed into his sleep chamber beside her mother. The girl used whatever bacta products they had left, but Din could see the look of disappointment on her face when he handed her all they had. He just hoped it'd be enough to last her the trip back to the Deviant on Batuu.