Chapter 1: The Hunter

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Dedicated to Mariah, Rachel, Seb, and Ismael, my first fans and my best friends.

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It wasn't a strange thing for Vella Delaba to rely on others. It was inculcated into her by her Jedi master, Elara Me'na. Or at least, her master had tried to inculcate it into her. Vella had done well at it for quite a while, she'd learned to rely on her master, rely on the clones, rely on the Rebellion, and to rely on her crew, her found family.

Not that it had gotten her anywhere in hindsight. In fact, it probably did the exact opposite, leaving her with nothing but pain and regret and a lot of stab wounds in her back.

After all those tragedies, something that had once been such a key part of her, was slowly seeping away from her entirely. Perhaps it had already left. It wasn't like she had anyone now, she thought, starting the landing process of her ship alone. Pressing buttons and pulling the controls back. Her ship, the Deviant, landed safely in the port with a thud.

Besides, it wasn't like she needed help, but it wasn't like she had gone without it. Maybe at one time she had needed and relied on others, but not anymore.

Vella Delaba was alone. And would continue that way for the foreseeable future. Or, for the most part at least.

Her ship was an old light freighter her and her mother had used while they were in the Rebellion. She and the old thing had been through many challenges together. It was one of the only places that felt safe to her. It was her home. Which was probably why she didn't, no, couldn't, move from her seat in the cockpit. Her legs refused to budge and her shoulders were tense against the backrest. She felt the tension in her chest, the lack of breath, the silence that hung in the air.

This wasn't going to work, of that she was sure. Whatever fate she was testing wasn't going to be kind. Why? Because it never was.

Her whole life had been a series of unkind events, things she loved torn from her grasp, or willingly leaving it. You'd think it would have hardened her heart, and she almost wished it had. But it hadn't, the values of the Jedi were deeply ingrained into her as a person. Even if in the past thirty years she'd tried to be anything but.

It might not even matter, for all she knew he wouldn't even give her the time of day, let alone help her.

Vella had been tracking him for a while, the Mandalorian, but only because she wanted to know where she could find him when she was sure she needed him. And as time passed she was growing more sure she would. So she had no choice but to put her faith, and her life, in a bounty hunter's hands. Not only that, but a Mandalorian bounty hunter. She'd read the books, seen the pictures, and heard the stories. The Jedi and the Mandalorians did not mix well.

Most of them at least.

She'd met a few in her lifetime, and they hadn't been against the Jedi as much as she had assumed they'd be. But she knew it wasn't a rule for all of them and she wasn't about to find out with this one.

He'd probably heard similar stories. Her mind wandered to the range of things he could do if he found out she was a Jedi, or rather, Jedi affiliated. Her mind could have overflowed with worries of how he might react but Vella reasoned it wouldn't matter if she could keep her Force wielding to a minimum. Which was much easier said than done if the past thirty years was any indication.

That is, of course, assuming he said yes to helping her at all.

That thought was probably the only thing that tore her from the cockpit chair. He could always just say no and she'd have her answer. Or at least that's what she was telling herself as she locked up the Deviant and paid the attendant.

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