TERMINAL ︳the mandalorian

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄 ─ 𝟏𝟑 𝐁𝐁𝐘

─𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄 ─ 𝟏𝟑 𝐁𝐁𝐘─
𝐉𝐄𝐃𝐇𝐀

"Tell me a story momma, the one you always tell."

Nyara was a creature of hope at best. Long nights spent sitting alone in her room, her husband in her mind as he was reborn in stardust lightyears away. How many cycles had it been since then? She'd lost count. Outside, the creak of a landing ship rocked their small house, the howl of the engines a far away comfort of the night. Jedha was an imperial cesspool, but it was all Nyara had to give to her children, the lights of her life. From the moment her son's cries echoed in the room, to the night Sammen had returned home with a squirming bundle in his arms, her life changed twofold and she'd never looked back.

"Which one ad'ika?"

Rowan, in all her half a dozen years of age, shuffled closer to her mother, shaking hands finding Nyara's knee. She was so young to be having such nightmares. Nyara had them herself, waking up in the cold sweat of her husband's memory, the unsuccessful rebellion that landed the killing shot upon his head. Saw Gerrera would never know the lives laid down for his cause and Nyara would never let her children believe their father was anything less than a hero.

"The one about the Mandalorian. The rebellion that took down the Empire." As her voice faded down to a null whisper, Nyara brushed her hair out of her opal eyes. Her daughter's eyes had been beautiful before the accident and though Nyara would always believe her daughter was beautiful, the pink scars across her temple marred her young skin. Saw Gerrera would never understand what the Stuet family had given for his futile cause.

"Be careful with such requests, Rowan. You know you can't talk like that." Stern words tucked behind a kind tone, a motherly reprimand Rowan recognized well.

"But Jurah talks about it all the time! He says when he's old enough he's going to find Saw Gerrera and take down the Empire!" Nyara's heart cinched tight in her chest. To lose her son the same way she lost her husband would do nothing short of break her completely. She gripped Rowan's small hand, squeezed her fingers together to get her attention the only way she truly knew how.

"Your brother is reckless and his grief manifests in his thoughtlessness. There will be no talks of rebellion in this house, not for a long time. Do you understand me?" Rowan gulped back her tears at being caught in her foolishness but before she could speak the affirmative, Nyara sighed and turned her head to the door.

"I know you're there Jurah. Come in before you get stuck to the wall." Head ducked to his chest, Jurah eased through the cracked door to Rowan's bedroom. Guilt permeated the air. Jurah clenched his hands tight. "Sit," she nodded beside Rowan. The blind girl felt Jurah settle next to her and reached for where she assumed his hand would be, missing by almost an entire limb's length.