EMPIRE, 𝐃. 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍.

- ONE.

"DOES THE HELMET EVER GET SWEATY?"

The Mandalorian didn't respond to Amelia as she walked through the snowy wasteland with him, shivering slightly as the wind hit her face harshly. She was used to the pattern; she asked a lot of questions, and he ignored most of them.

"Aw, c'mon Mando, you gotta respond to me. I have to learn from you, remember?" He grunted slightly as a reply, and Amelia sighed.

"You talk an awful lot, you know that?" he finally replied. This was likely the most he'd said to her at once since their meeting a couple of months ago.

Amelia cocked her head to the side in a playful manner. "Sure I do," she responded to him, laughing a little. "But admit it! You love it."

"I do not."

     Amelia sighed once more and stared ahead. They'd reached their destination, a small bar taking up minimal space on the large snowy planet. She was shocked to see it here, after all, the planet was mostly empty from what she'd seen. She found herself walking a little bit behind The Mandalorian, watching him as he stood by the door, letting it open.

     Before she entered with Mando, she could hear what sounded like a serious argument. "Please, please," Someone was saying, a young-sounding voice begging quietly. "I have credits. Take them." Amelia got a closer look at the bickering between the people as she entered the bar, still behind The Mandalorian, and recognized the owner of the voice. Of course.

Their target.

Amelia watched Mando carefully, figuring that he needed to do the work and she could step aside to witness the fight that was bound to happen, with the trio of Trawlers bothering the target. Amelia tried to act as though she were minding her business, but she continued to watch the Trawlers and listen to them hiss words at the target in Huttese.

Meanwhile, Mando had found his way to the bar, and Amelia watched as one of the Trawlers stood to glare at her partner. "Hey, Mando!" The nickname fell out of the Trawler's mouth easily, as he spat Huttese at the Mandalorian.

While the Trawler approached, Mando stared forward with a tone of complete indifference. Amelia, feeling uncomfortable and as though her duty was to guard her partner, approached slowly to stand near him, just a foot or so away. She watched, quietly and carefully, as the bartender attempted to explain the Trawler's Huttese to Mando.

"He says you spilled his drink," the bartender translated, and in the dimly lit bar he looked almost hesitant to speak. Near the back corner of the bar, the other Trawlers stepped away from the target slightly. "It's fine, it's on me." The bartender muttered.

Though Amelia didn't know Huttese, she heard the word 'Beskar' slip out of the Trawler's mouth. His armour, she thought, They're asking about his armour. Then, the growling of another Trawler. A knife unsheathing to scratch the Mandalorian's armour. All of it was a little too close for comfort to Amelia, but Mando didn't flinch.

"Here," the bartender interrupted the tense moment, sliding the drink in Mando's direction. Amelia watched it slide past her, and she watched Mando grab it. She blinked and he was suddenly turned around, fighting the Trawlers. Before Amelia knew what was happening she rushed forward to join the fight, but she stopped herself about halfway there. Her partner seemed to have it covered.

     She watched with complete indifference as the last Trawler was sliced clean in half. She'd seen worse, she knew that, and she tried to keep those memories bottled up, but after the violent scene, they started to make their way back in to her mind again. She took a few breaths and tried to remind herself that those days had been put behind her, before joining Mando near their target.