The Cosmos Feels Lonely ☆ The Mandalorian

13

Seated on her bed, a satchel of most of her possessions sat beside her, as she chewed on the end of a pencil, as a letter sat in her lap appointed to Mando.

She was unsure of what to say, and how he would take it.

Touching the walls of the Razor Crest, fondly, T'rialow knew that she would savour every memory that she had with him so strongly that she would almost live them all once more. Even when they will be apart, she knew, one reach out into the force and she could feel his soul so solemnly against the rest. He was the quiet hush between snow falls, the space between the stars, the darkness in the inevitable, and the galaxy between planets. So much was unknown about him, yet, she promise to spend their time discovering and loving all the in betweens and quiet spaces that made up her mandalorian.

So long had they spent together, and her promise was still not for filled, as she had never even gotten to hear his name.

But, she knew she had to do it, leave, for she had gotten too attached to the both of them that it would hurt her too greatly if she was to be the cause of their pain, or death. She was a weapon of the Empire, and a failed apprentice of her master and all the good he had tried to possess in her. The child was, like her, now a runaway from The Empire, and she thought for the best of his survival that he continued the rest of his life without her by his side.

Gritting her teeth, she snapped the pencil in half, as she read over the letter the moment she believed it was finished. She finally got a glimpse into Mandos heart, and she wondered, would this wound it? Or would he go on as he did when he lived without her in his life. Maybe he'd find someone else, another female, one that wasn't grotesque and scarred with so much baggage like T'rialow. He's human, her mando, a female human would be best suited to protect his heart.

Maybe they could be a family, the two humans, and raise the child. She wondered if the child would have dreams created from past memories of a white, fair skinned warrior mongrel that went by the name of T'rialow. Maybe he would, and then, he would ask his father figure about her, and he would say...

What would Mando say?

Suddenly, the ship began to rattle, causing T'rialow to slam into the wall, and roof, allowing an aggravated groan to leave her lips. Pulling herself out of her little nook between the levels, the mongrel hauled herself up to the highest level. It was hard, for the ships shakes constantly threw her balance off, as she struggled to climb the ladder to the pilots door.

Finally landing on the highest level, she slammed her hand against the button, which allowed the door to the cockpit to swirl open.

"Mando!" T'rialow yelled, dropping into her seat,"Did you forget how to drive or did you suddenly go blind?"

"It was the kid," Mando defended.

"Oh," T'rialow smiled, scooping up the child,"Well aren't you the cutest pilot, hm?"

Turning in his seat, he peered up at T'rialow with a speculated look that she could feel through his visor.

"Turn around and learn how to drive, you wamprat!" T'rialow growled, blocking the child's ears from her yelling.

"I wasn't driving-" Mando tried to say.

"Exactly why the ship almost obliterated itself," T'rialow gasped, turning to the child,"Unbelievable, isn't he? I wonder how long you're gonna survive in his care."

Grumbling to himself, Mando began working on correcting all the child's mistakes that he had caused on the Razor Crests dashboard when he was playing around and pressing numerous, random buttons. Caught up in fixing the functions of the ship, Mando did not catch the mongrels slip of the tongue.