Madlands

25. A Shining Disc

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They'd taken more damage than losing one engine. Something was leaking out into space (although the ship couldn't tell him exactly what, as multiple sensors were down), part of the landing gear wouldn't retract, and pressure kept fluctuating in the system that cools the engines. With only one in action, they couldn't afford for it to overheat.

The failures were keeping Mando in the cockpit, unable to check on Grey or release her. She'd stopped shouting shortly after take-off, and he was growing worried that she'd lost enough blood to pass out.

With the pressure in the cooling system finally evening out after his third attempt at a stop-gap solution, and the leak a steady but slow one, he decided to risk leaving the helm for the hold. He found Grey, conscious but slumped onto the floor, her back against the hydraulic pipes, one arm raised above her head where it was shackled to the system. She didn't acknowledge him as he approached, staring straight ahead while he pushed away the crates that had settled in front of her.

Mando released her wrist and crouched down.

I need to see your side.

She didn't react.

Grey. Lift your arm. You're still bleeding. Was it a blaster or a the vibroknife?

She gave him nothing.

He reached for her arm and she blocked him, whipping her other hand across and grabbing onto his forearm with all of her strength as her face locked on his, eyes cool with rage.

An alarm, a new one, sprang into action. She was not going to let him treat her and was clearly still strong. He had no choice but to retreat to the cockpit to stave off the next emergency.

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The coordinates for their original landing site on Rin had still been in the system, and it seemed like as good a place as any to take stock of the damage, both to the ship and to Grey.

Their descent could have been worse; it was better to have landing gear that was stuck out rather than in when it came to setting the ship down. With the Crest coming to a tired rest, Mando shut down any system that didn't need immediate tending, and returned to find Grey, unchanged and unmoved in the hold. The only difference he noticed as he got closer was that her cheeks were now streaked with tears.

He didn't have to ask this time. As he pulled over a low munitions chest and sat down on it next to her, she silently raised the arm of her wounded side. He saw the ragged skin of her palm. She didn't look at him as he pulled up the side of Ingrid's sweater and her top, and didn't flinch as the angry slice from the Ministry man's blade was exposed.

Mando couldn't feel as relieved as he should. While he knew that it wasn't all that bad, when it came to the spectrum of knife-wound severity, the sight of her flesh like this felt like an unforgivable crime. Even with bacta, she'd likely have a scar. Maybe the feverfew would be better, if she still had it. Her satchel, soaked and smeared with grit, was still slung across her body, but it too had a large gash down one side and appeared to be empty. He lowered her clothing, hoping to get her to move to a crate so that he could dress her wounds with less difficulty.

Grey. I'm sorry. It seems like you did everything you could.

This got her attention. Her eyes snapped to his visor. Her words were clipped and venomous.

No. I didn't get the chance to. You took me away.

The moon was falling apart. There was no hope for it, for anyone.

THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT ME THERE.

Her wild eyes flashed as Mando grasped her upper arms.

You don't mean that.

Yes, I do. You don't understand.

I do. I know. Grey, I know about Trell. I know it was your home. I know you lost everything. And I know what that's like. LISTEN. I didn't just lose Mandalore. The Empire attacked my home-world when I was a child, destroyed all that I had known, took everything and everyone I had. A Mandalorian saved me from the rubble of my lost life. I do understand.

How do you know about Trell?

Her icy response was not what he'd hoped. He was offering her one of the last pieces of himself, one that he kept hidden, and she did not want it. He let go of her, sat back.

Does it matter?

Yes.

You left one of your archives connected to the ship for a while, the lost worlds. I guess a part of me thought you might have wanted me to see it.

So you found some fact, some detail, and you think you can know me?

No, I don't. How could I know you? You give every person you meet a different name, you share nothing about yourself or where you're from, what life you've lived, who you've loved. I'm starting to think YOU don't even know who you are.

I know that I have nothing, nothing to care for, nothing to defend, nothing to look forward to, nothing to share with you. You can't know me because there's no one there to know. And that's how it want it.

It couldn't be more clear; she didn't want him here. She didn't want him anywhere. Mando stood, lowered the rear gate, and walked away from the ship. He would give her time to tend to her wounds on her own, if she would even bother to.

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Pallis had eclipsed the sun as he stood on the ridge that sheltered the Crest. He'd watched its shadow race across the landscape, consuming all of Rin in a single breath. Cereda, or her shell, had risen shortly after, and now he watched it float between him and Pallis—a shining disc against the swirling colours. From here, on the quiet ridge, it looked no different than yesterday. This moon couldn't see that she had lost her sister. Mando thought about the news that must be making its way from village to village, homestead to homestead, and he felt for them all.

It had been over an hour, and more time would not make things better. He made his way down the rough embankment towards the ship.

The ramp was still lowered, but the hold was dark. Inside, he found no one, and no note, but the signet pendant, sitting on the floor where Grey had been, told him what he needed to know.

She was gone and he was not to follow.

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