𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 - DIN DJARIN

Chapter 1: The Mandalorian

chapter 1: the mandalorian •••

"Nothin'? He gave you nothin'? It's 'cause of that damn chrome bucket, huh?"

You can't help eavesdropping into the conversation of the cantina, keeping your eyes fixed on your drink as your ears perk up to the voices of the two men sitting beside you.

"Yep. Said we don't get nothin' right now 'cause we couldn't get that asset in time."

You wrinkle your brow. Although the backgrounds of these two men are unknown to you, you know exactly what they're talking about. It'd be hard not to know about the Mandalorian bounty hunter and the asset whilst living on Nevarro these days.

All you know is that this Mandalorian had acquired a highly demanded asset, which many said was a child of sorts. He'd gotten a hell of a reward for it, too, causing the other bounty hunters of Nevarro to hum with jealousy. You, though, can't help feeling remorseful. This child must not have any parents or a family—and now they're in the hands of someone who's likely to do them harm. No bounties escape easily and this is just a child. You can't help thinking of your own past, when you were in a similar situation. Everyone had wanted—and still wants—a princess. Thankfully, you're also a fighter, and hiding out as a pretend bounty hunter on Nevarro surprisingly keeps you quite safe.

The door of the cantina opens and everyone suddenly goes silent. You look up from your drink, your gaze landing on the glowing figure who's walking in: the Mandalorian. His armor is donned in the silver way the men beside you had described it, no doubt as a result of the beskar steel he'd acquired from his bounty. You nearly feel sickened, forcing yourself to look back at your drink as you take another swig of it.

When Greef Karga begins announcing the success of the Mandalorian to the entire cantina, you find yourself nearly slamming your credits onto the bar and making a dash for the door. Your body feels numb as you tuck your hands into the pockets of your vest. You can't help thinking about the poor child, likely suffering somewhere at the hands of a money-hungry individual. You wonder if they're being sold as a slave, or even abused for information.

What information? you ask yourself. The Empire's gone. Who would do something like that?

Still, you can't shake the weight off. You know it's because you doubt the ideas of the Empire are completely gone. You still feel it: the darkness that clouded your childhood. The ideas are still circulating, even out here.

As you're walking through the town aimlessly in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you see a bright shine out of the corner of your eye. You look and spot what's evidently a helmet—looking very similar to that of the Mandalorian you just ran away from. Yet, this one's smaller, looking almost as if it belongs to a child. It looks at you and then it disappears behind a curtain in a flash. You furrow your brow. There must've been someone inside that helmet. Was it another Mandalorian?

You didn't know there were other Mandalorians—especially on Nevarro. Perhaps it was a child who'd somehow acquired a Mandalorian helmet from the remnants of the Great Purge. Deciding on the simpler answer, you continue strolling around to ease your unshakeable nerves.

Though, even as the hours go by, you can't. You haven't had a purpose other than hiding out almost your whole life. Along the way, you've helped many people—sometimes even working to free innocent people from groups like hostile tribes or gangs—and so you find it hard to sit around while a child is somewhere suffering. You don't understand how the bounty hunters can let them go so easily, especially the one who brought it in. From what you had been told about the Mandalorians in your youth, they were the best warriors in the galaxy, and often would come to the rescue of villages being attacked by the Empire. How could this Mandalorian go against something like that, and instead put someone—a child—at risk?