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Mando brought the Razor Crest down into the hangar bay of the space station he had only told her so little about on the long ride there. They had been soaring through space for days until he had received the transmission in response to his proposition of needing credits for a job, any job.
He went immediately to lift the bloody wrap Toro Calican had ripped off of her face back on Tatooine, but he decided against using the dirty one. He went and selected a long dark gray cloth and a shorter, lighter gray cloth from the compartment he had kept them in.
These were the last clean ones.
"I thought I didn't need to wear it anymore," Cerelia questioned as he turned the seat around to face her. He pulled the wrap around over her head, grabbing the other side with his other arm and locking her gently inside his arms. It was an awkward position, but she was used to it by now.
"Your nose is fine now," he stated simply. She sighed in defeat.
She shrugged her shoulders, giving him the signal to continue.
"These sort of people are just waiting for a princess on-the-run to walk in so they can trade her life in for a payday," Mando explained, finishing wrapping the cloth around her head and covering her shoulder-length silver hair. She understood why it had to be done, but that didn't stop her from holding out hope that she could live her life as something more than a runaway.
