May The Way Be With You

The Marshal

It's the next morning, and once again we are riding through the desert. In the distance, we can see a few small buildings. Hardly a hamlet from what I can tell at this distance. We reach it by midday, Din slowing the bike down as we see a handful of people look at us.

It's obvious they don't get visitors, the way they are staring at us. It makes me glad Din had me cover my hair with a scarf. If they're this distrustful of mere strangers, seeing my unusual hair could make them more hostile. Din parks the bike in front of what appears to be a common house. He heads inside, telling me to stay with the baby.

I pick up the kid and hold him, looking around. I see a man walk up wearing Mandalorian armor. Seems we found our man. He stops in front of me, looking me up and down. "You'll want to speak with my companion. He's inside." I tell the Mandalorian. He looks to the common house, then looks back at me.

"I'd appreciate it if you came along." The Mandalorian states. I nod, not wanting to cause trouble, so I get off the bike with the baby in my arms. He has us step inside first, and I see Din speaking with the barman. I find an empty table and sit, letting the kid roam around. "What brings you here, Stranger?" The New Mandalorian asks.

"I've been looking for you for many parsecs." Din says, staring the Mandalorian down.

"Well, you found me. Weequay, three snorts of spotchka." New Mandalorian says. The barman pulls out a bottle of spotchka and three small cups. New Mandalorian tells Din to join him for a drink, walking over to the table I'm sitting at. I look at him in confusion, wondering how they can have a drink without removing their helmets since I don't see any straws.

New Mandalorian sits down next to me, and I can feel Din's apprehension. He stops cold when New Mandalorian takes off the helmet. Out of habit, I look away from him, mind reeling. Mandalorians don't take off the helmet!

"Never met a real Mandalorian." The man says. That makes sense now, he isn't a real Mandalorian. He just somehow got the armor of one. He says he's heard stories, and knows they're good at killing. I can feel Din's anger at the man, and I look at the fake Mandalorian. He's older, has grey hair and beard, and light skin that's weathered, probably by the sand. He places a cup of spotchka in front of me as he tells Din he knows Din isn't happy seeing him wearing the armor.

"So, I figured only one of us is walking out of here. Then I see the little guy and the lovely lady next to me, and figured I'd pegged you wrong."  He continues, placing another cup down for Din. I see the kid is peeking inside a spittoon, then look back to Din for any clue on what we're going to do. Din asks who the man is, and he answers, "Cobb Vanth, Marshal of Mos Pelgo."

"Where did you get the armor?" Din demands.

"Bought it off some Jawas." Cobb answers, taking a shot of spotchka. Mine sits untouched, and I probably look like a trapped animal. Din demands Cobb hand over the armor, but evidently he doesn't take orders.

"Take it off. Or I will." Din states so firmly I have to stop myself from stripping naked.

"We gonna do this in front of the kid? And such a lovely lady?" Cobb asks, gesturing his cup to the kid while tilting his head at me.

"They've seen worse." Din says as the baby coos.

"Right here?" Cobb asks, the feeling of resignation coming over him. Din confirms it, making Cobb sigh before he gets up. As they stare each other down, I debate moving my seat when the ground starts shaking. Cobb holds up a finger and walks to the door. I look over at the kid as Din follows Cobb. The kid gets in the spittoon, which is probably safer for him. I get under the table as Weequay runs out the back door.

The shaking gets harder and harder, and I can hear something roaring. Din and Cobb don't run, and through the gaps between their legs, I can see the street ripple like water as something travels under the sand. There's another roar a few moments later, making Cobb lean back slightly in shock. The roars stop, as well as the ground shaking soon after.