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(Nova's POV)

I hold a small tarp given to me by the kind alien over my head, trying to stay as dry as possible in the rare rain. The child's pod is closed, so I have little entertainment other than conversation.

"So, how exactly did you get beat by a bunch of three-foot-tall scavengers?" I ask the Mandalorian in a teasing manner.

"Scavengers are more dangerous than they seem. Especially those of the desert." he defends himself in his usual grumpy manner. "Besides, there are a lot of them."

 "No, I know. I mean, how did you manage to get yourself knocked out as bad as you did?"

"'As bad as I did'?" he questions.

"You were out for at least two hours." I supply. He tilts his head, as if he hadn't known that.

"Well, I did get electrocuted and fall off of their sandcrawler." he reasons. I gasp.

"Off of their sandcrawler?" I ask, surprised that he's as unharmed as he is. A fall from a huge sandcrawler like that has to be at least four stories. He should've broken something, best-case scenario.

"That's what i said." he replies sarcastically.

"I know, I heard you. My head isn't that far up my ass." I smirk.

We fall into a comfortable silence after that, something I didn't think I'd ever say while sitting on a trailer in the pouring rain alongside a Mandalorian. That is, until he speaks up again. "So, Nova. Is that an alias or something?"

I sigh. "No. It's my real name."

"No last name?" he pries. I don't know why he cares so much. I suppose he's just trying to pass the time, asking what questions he can think of.

"I wouldn't know. My parents... I was young when I got separated from them. I barely remember anything of them." I say, my tone flat.

"Oh. I'm sorry." he quickly states, apologetic.

I shrug. "Don't be. They sold their three-year-old into slavery. I'm glad I don't know my last name."

Years ago, I had the opportunity to have a last name. Aurelia, the woman who trained me, offered her own- not for marriage, but to make me feel like I was a part of a family. Her sister, even if it wasn't biological. I wish I would've taken her up on that offer. 

 There's another pause, and for a moment I think that conversation is over. But it's not. "I was a child when the Mandalorians took me in. My parents were murdered by droids, and they saved me. I became a Foundling."

I gasp in realization, snapping my fingers. "Is that why you hate droids so much?"

I hear a little chuckle from him, and I smile. It's nice, his laugh. "Yeah, that's where I get it. Separatist battle droids, especially."

"Those bastards." I half-joke. Half, because those droids can be really annoying and it's especially rude to kill someone's parents. But also because I want to hear him laugh again. Thankfully, I'm successful in that. "Listen, I really am sorry about your parents, though."

"I'm sorry about yours. What did they even sell you for?"

"As far as I know, drinking money. I don't remember much of them, but what I do isn't very good. Yelling, gambling, sometimes the occasional beating." I make a sour face.

We continue our conversations about each other and our pasts until we find the sandcrawler, at which point we shut up in anticipation. It's nice to talk to him, even though he's technically still turning me in. I don't talk to people much, but he makes it easy.

It isn't raining anymore, and the sun beats down harshly upon my head. I shed my jacket and open the child's pod. He makes a happy noise, gazing at the blue sky. 

The Ugnaught calls out in greeting. Shouts erupt from the Jawas, and the alien glances back at us. "They really don't like you for some reason." he tells Mando.

"Well, I did disintegrate a few of them." he reasons.

A few more Jawas yell, one in the middle of the group of tents most of all. The Ugnaught translates: "You need to drop your rifle."

"I'm a Mandalorian; weapons are part of my religion." he argues stubbornly.

I shake my head. "Then we aren't getting our stuff back, stubborn ass." 

 I can practically feel his eyes roll as he places the weapon on the carrier. "Fine."

The Jawas call out, and again the Ugnaught translates. "And the blaster."

Mando sighs and does as he's told.

I stand, giving one last worried glance back at the child before following Mando and the Ugnaught to sit with the Jawas. The alien and I sit with the hunter between us. 

The Ugnaught and Jawas speak, and despite my rusty experience with the Jawa's language, I'm still able to follow along. I gasp and immediately protest in Jawaese as they present their offer for trade. Again, our guide translates for the Mandalorian as I continue to argue. "They will trade all of the parts for the Beskar."

"That's ridiculous! He can't give up the Beskar, it is his people's custom!" I shout at the small aliens in their tongue.

"I'm not gonna trade anything. These are my parts; they stole them from me." he points at the Jawas, anger detectable in his tone and posture, and tries to communicate with them. "They, they... belong... to me!" I wince as the Jawas begin to laugh and mock him.

"You speak terrible Jawa. You sound like a Wookie!" the leading Jawa jeers.

Finally, Mando's anger gets the best of him. I suppose it's been a long day for all of us. "You understand this?" He activates the flamethrower on his arm, attempting to scorch the annoying little devils. They cry out in alarm and duck, throwing themselves onto the ground.

The Ugnaught lunges for his arm, shouting, "No!" He manages to calm Mando down enough to begin the conversation again, but I merely sit back and watch as Mando spews his fire. Like I said, I won't stop him from killing a Jawa or two.

"What else may he trade?" the Ugnaught asks them in Jawaese. The leading Jawa points excitedly at the trailer behind them. We turn to see a couple of Jawas staring at the child with curiosity. I'm on my feet in an instant, calling a staff of light to my hands. 

 My call of "Back off!" mixes with Mando's shout of "Get away from it!", both of us having unspoken threats in our tones. I twirl my staff dangerously, glaring, and the Jawa's scurry away.

The Ugnaught requests another idea, seeing as we're not about to give up either Mando's armor or the child. They huddle together, discussing quietly among themselves until they come to a conclusion and begin shouting about some sort of... egg?

>>>>><<<<<

"I'm sorry. I'll be back in a couple of hours." Mando approaches me and apologizes. 

"Don't apologize so much. People will think you're going soft." I say with a grin as the Jawas attach chains to my wrists and ankles. "No, in all seriousness, I'll be fine. Besides, if anything goes wrong, I can get out of these easily." He nods, and starts his journey to go get this egg. The child's carrier floats alongside him, and worry settles in my stomach. Will they be alright? I've been with the child since we found him; if something happened...

The Jawas had added a little detail to our trade when I asked them about my bag. They said that I was to remain here, with them, as their prisoner until Mando returns. Apparently, I'm the incentive so that he doesn't just run off, or decide to go back on their deal. Then, upon his arrival with the egg they want, we'll get back everything they stole from us and be on our merry way.

I wish now that i hadn't taken my jacket off. If Mando isn't back by dusk, i'll be freezing in the night temperatures. Plus, my slavery tattoo (my serial number as a slave, inked on my inner forearm) and the brand I was given during a time of my life spent in captivity (the symbol of the Old Empire, literally branded into the skin above my right hip bone) are on display due to my torn up, ragged shirt, leaving me to feel very self-conscious. Especially when I overhear them referring to me as Phawula, which means tattoo or brand in Jawaese.

 I stand outside for as long as possible, watching the horizon for the pair I've been traveling with. The Jawas set up their tents and converse with the Ugnaught in friendly tones. I realize, as I watch their interactions, that I don't know the Ugnaught's name. He's helped us so much that I figure I should at least be nice enough to ask him.

"Kuiil." he says simply when I ask. I nod, smiling. "And I do not believe you have told me yours."

"Well, Kuiil. I'm Nova." I outstretch my hand, the other being dragged awkwardly by the cuffs. He takes it and shakes it firmly.

"I cannot imagine you are very comfortable in those." he gestures to my restraints, noticing my discomfort. I suppose he never liked being chained, either. Then again, who would?

"I'll manage. It's only for a little while, until Mando gets back. This was their condition, after all." He nods, and turns to speak with an approaching Jawa. I focus my gaze on the horizon once more.

>>>>><<<<<

It's been three hours. Mando and the child have yet to return, and the nerves are starting to get to me. The Jawas are about to leave, and what's worse is they've decided that I'm to be their prisoner since Mando hasn't returned.

I don't know what's taking him so long, honestly. Did he abandon us? No, he couldn't have. He still needs his parts, and technically I'm his bounty. He wouldn't just leave. So then why isn't he here yet?

"Just a little while longer." Kuiil tries to persuade the thieves. They don't listen to him, trying to pull me into their sandcrawler. They've already packed up their tents, and are pretty much ready to leave. Fear strikes my heart. I will not be taken again. I writhe and thrash, trying to free myself. Summoning a knife of light or some other weapon to break out will do me no good, as I've learned; the Jawas will electrocute me to the point of unconsciousness if they see a weapon. "Fine. Go without me." the Ugnaught dismisses. He comes up to me and I stop struggling for a moment to listen to him.

"I will find you after Mando returns." he promises. I nod, refusing to let the tears that have gathered fall. He goes back to wait outside, and the door starts to close. My pulse quickens.

As the door closes, I hear Kuiil's joyful shout. "Mando!" Gasping, I turn and break free of the four Jawas that hold me, seeing the armored man approaching. I almost cry out, relief flooding through me. 

The door stops closing, and then begins to descend. A Jawa removes my chains as others rush past us to get to the egg.

"I have it." Mando calls out tiredly, a huge hairy egg tucked under his arm. "I've got the egg."

The Jawas cheer, snatching the egg from him and gathering in a group by their sandcrawler. They cut it open and dig their hands in, causing the armored man to shake his head. I walk up to Mando, rubbing my wrists to relieve the soreness. I plaster a smirk on my face, although in all honesty I feel like shit. I try to keep my hands from shaking too noticeably.

"You have a little mud on your armor." I comment sarcastically. He's practically drenched in mud. I notice the bent, broken chest plate and practically ruined armor. "What happened?"

"Mudhorn." he says shortly. I can tell he's probably tired, maybe even hurt if his armor is any indication of what he just went through.

I nod, turning to greet the child only to find him sleeping peacefully. Kneeling next to his pod, I smile softly and brush a hand along his cheek. His light snores barely reach my ears.

I stand and turn to go get my bag back from the thieves, only to have a hand grab my wrist. I flinch and pull my hand away before I can even think. Turning, I see that Mando had been the one to grab me. He clears his throat awkwardly. "Sorry. Are you okay?" Damn. He's seen through my facade.

I smile, although a blind man could tell it's fake. "I'm fine. Just a little... tired, is all." He nods, going to greet Kuiil. I make my way into the Jawa's sandcrawler, looking for my bag.

I find a Jawa rummaging through it, examining an engraved knife from one of my old friends. "Shiny..." he murmurs in Jawaese as he holds it up to the light.

"Hey!" I growl, snatching the knife and bag from his hands. I look through the bag, making sure i have everything. But I notice something important that's noticeably absent. "Where is my necklace?" I demand in the little devil's tongue.

"Necklace? There was no necklace in there." he claims, shrugging. I grab him by the front of his cloak before he can react, holding a knife of light to his face.

"Where is it?" I snarl threateningly. He shrieks, pulling the necklace from his cloak and running away. I sigh in relief, pulling the necklace around my throat so that it hangs just at my collarbone. 

 I walk out of the sandcrawler with my bag in one hand and the other hand resting protectively on the only jewelry I have. Mando notices and gestures to it. "That your necklace?"

I nod. "I am never taking this off again. Especially because you jinxed us in the ravine. But now," I knock on the necklace's wooden beads, "we can't be jinxed."

He snorts, climbing into the trailer. "I seriously doubt a haphazard wooden necklace is going to achieve that."

"Hey! It is not haphazard." I climb into the trailer next to him, my hand not leaving the worn beads. "And you'd be surprised what this necklace is capable of." I mutter the last part to myself, although I'm sure he still hears.

 It's not that the necklace can do anything remarkable, but that doesn't mean it isn't special. This necklace serves as a reminder and a comfort. It helped me in some of my darkest hours. The necklace reminds me of the children in that little village, lets me carry their souls with me so nothing like that ever happens again- not if I can do anything about it.

I know some people think it's better to let the past go. But sometimes, the past is the only thing that keeps me going. I won't forget the people in that village. I won't ever mess up that badly again.

I don't realize there's a tear running down my cheek until it falls onto my hand. Quickly, I wipe it away before anyone sees. Mando begins recounting the events of when he went to go get the egg, saying that the child had saved him. I smile fondly at the sleeping little one. He seems to have taken quite a liking to Mando. 

I remember his odd abilities. How he used to be able to move things with his mind. It had always intrigued me, and I told myself that maybe I'd be able to teach him some tricks when he's older. If I live that long.

"Is it still sleeping?" Kuiil asks after a few minutes of silence and thinking.

"Yes." I can tell Mando wants to sleep, but probably isn't used to sleeping around people. Or with a helmet on, although he's probably done it before.

"Was he injured?" I inquire, sounding like a worried mother.

"I don't think so. Not physically." 

"Explain it to me again. I still don't understand what happened." Kuiil requests. No doubt, both their minds are reeling.

Mando pauses, sighing. "Neither do I."

>>>>><<<<<

Mando looks at his shell of a ship, shoulders slightly slumped in discouragement. "There's no way we're gonna get this to work without a full maintenance facility. This is going to take days to fix."

"If you care to help it might go faster, pessimist." I call out, walking past him with some parts in my arms.

Kuiil nods in agreement. "There is much work to do." 

We get to work, and soon I'm sweltering in the hot sun of Arvala-7. I wipe sweat off of my brow, lest it drip into my eyes and disturb my work. Since we were both slaves, Kuiil and I thankfully know a thing or two about mechanics. Granted, he knows much more than I do, but masters still occasionally made me fix their ships so they didn't have to pay for a qualified mechanic. Plus, living alone and being a criminal means you can't really go to anyone when your ship breaks down.

Instead of days, it takes mere hours until the ship is ready to go. I wouldn't say it took more than 8 to have the ship flight-ready, honestly. When it's ready, we go to say our goodbyes.

"I can't thank you enough. Please, allow me to give you a portion of the reward." Kuiil doesn't miss the way I wince at the reminder of being his bounty. He sends me a comforting glance before returning his attention to Mando.

"I cannot accept. You are my guest and I am therefore in your service."

Mando thinks for a moment. "I could use a crew member of your ability, and I can pay handsomely."

"I am honored, but I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude." he explains.

"I understand. Then all I can offer is my thanks."

"And I offer mine. Thank you both for bringing peace to my valley." he nods to us before walking out of the ship and mounting his blurrg. Before leaving, he turns back to us. "And good luck with the child. I have spoken." I smile once more at his signature line as the Ugnaught rides off on his blurrg. I'm going to miss him. 

Mando closes the door and we make our way to the cockpit. Upon sitting down, I try to keep my leg from bouncing and my hands from shaking. My breathing stays even, only from decades of practice. I'm about to willingly surrender myself into custody, where people will do who-knows-what to me.

"Hey, Mando?" I speak up once we leave the atmosphere, my tone quieter and more tense than usual. He notices, half-turning his head to me to show that he's paying attention. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Go ahead."

I take a breath before speaking. "I can't let you turn him in." Mando's head snaps towards me at that.

"What?" he asks, incredilous.

"He's a child, and he's done nothing wrong. I've worked for years to make sure this child is safe. No bounty is worth the endangerment of a kid." I try to reason with him.

"He could be dangerous. He has abilities beyond our understanding-" his voice begins to raise, but when the child stirs slightly and my eyes widen in fear, he lowers his tone again. "You don't know what you're asking."

"And you don't know what will happen if you turn him in. What if they kill him? Do you really want the blood of a child on your hands?" My heart hurts as the words leave my mouth. I know the feeling of being responsible for the deaths of little kids. I wouldn't wish it upon anybody. But it makes me wonder how clean the Mandalorian's hands truly are.

He can't seem to think of a response to this, so instead he asks, "So what are you going to do, then? Take him?" 

 I sigh. Now comes the hard part. "No. I swore, years ago, that I would do everything in my power to protect this child's life. I've already failed at that once, and I won't fail again. But I also gave you my word. I'll still let you turn me in, on one condition. You protect the child as I have."

"And if I don't agree?" he asks, skeptical.

"Then I would have no choice but to take the child and give him to someone who will protect him. You'd still have me either way, but if you agree then I need to know you'll take care of him. If not, I find someone who will." it's a risky bargain, I know, but it's my only option. I won't subject the child to torture again.

"I'll think about it." comes his low reply. I nod. It's better than a no.

Tensions are high until the child wakes up. Since the Mandalorian has decided to ignore my existence once more, like it was when he first captured me, I know he's not watching me or paying attention to me and therefore let my anxiety run loose in my body language. My hands shake, my knees bounce anxiously, and I find myself fidgeting with my necklace or running my fingers along my tattoo and brand more than once.

Finally, the child awakens. Since this might be the last time I see him, depending on what the client wants with me, I play with him non-stop. Sometimes I use my powers, while others I simply entertain him like a normal person would. Being the mischievous little one he is, while Mando is paying attention to a hologram from Greef Karga that I try desperately not to pay attention to, the baby steals a ball off of one of Mando's levers. 

Unfortunately, he gets caught trying to take the shiny ball, and Mando snatches it from his tiny grasp. "It's not a toy." he tells him, placing the ball back on his control panel. The child's ears droop, and I pick him up and place him in my lap.

"Watch this." I whisper to the child, who immediately perks up. Slowly, I wrap tendrils of dim, unnoticeable light around the ball and yank it toward us. It lands in my hand and I give it to the child, who gazes at it before moving to put it in his mouth. I quickly grab it, instead making the ball float and dance around him. He laughs, and the sound is music to my ears.

We reach Nevarro all too soon. Mando takes the ball again. "It's time." 

 I sigh, glancing at the child. "Will you take him, or do I have to find someone?" I ask.

"I'll take him." I nod, grateful. "Will you take him down? I just need to get something."

"Sure." I close the child's pod. He doesn't need to see me get taken away, and I want to keep him safe from the prying eyes of other bounty hunters. This is the center of the Guild, after all.

I take the child down to the door of the ship, waiting patiently for the Mandalorian to come down. I look out over the planet I haven't been on in years. Maker, I always hated this place. Crawling with vicious, brutal, merciless bounty hunters who would stop at nothing. I witnessed the murder of a child once. It wasn't even for a good reason; she'd been starved, she was living on the streets. She begged for just a tiny, tiny piece of the hunter's huge array of food. He'd shot her in the skull and left her body to the scavengers.

And then, by the time I'd finally realized the mess I'd made, when I realized what I'd gotten myself into, it was too late. The damage was done. Probably felt throughout the galaxy, for all I knew; I'd been a hunter for years, traveled every planet at least thrice.

I hate this place, the people ihabiting it, everything it represents. They couldn't have picked a worse planet for me to live out my years, which I suppose is why they did pick it.

My skin crawls as I continue my stroll- well, more like stumble- down memory lane. Will I have to see Greef Karga again? Who will I be facing? Someone from my past, or a complete stranger? I can't decide which is worse.

Lost in my thoughts, I don't hear the footsteps behind me until a moment too late. I feel a sharp pain in the back of my neck and the world disappears, only to be replaced with darkness.

>>>>><<<<<

(Mando's POV)

Quickly, I set my rifle down and catch Nova as she falls, unconscious. I feel terrible for lying and for knocking her out, but she would never give up the child willingly and I need to turn it in, as much as I don't want to. That Beskar is vital not only for me, but the whole of the Covert.

I sigh as I gather her in my arms and open the door. I keep telling myself that there was no other way, that I shouldn't have gotten so attached, but it's no use. I'd taken a liking to both bounties, and now I'm paying the price for it in the form of my guilt.

As we walk through the small city, I hear numerous beeps that sound suspiciously like tracking fobs. Looking around, I see many eyes on us and feel many more. Looks like I'm not the only one who got fobs for these two.

 The beeping doesn't stop, only seeming to increase the closer I get to the building I'm supposed to meet he client in. Hell, does everyone have a damn fob?

When we reach the building and the door opens, we're greeting with troopers instead of a bulky droid. I don't know which is better, but the troopers make me feel almost as uneasy as droids do. I don't trust either one.

As we walk down the hall, one of the troopers pulls roughly on the child's pod. "Easy with that," I say lowly, a warning in my tone. I step forward, despite not being able to do anything with Nova in my arms.

"You take it easy." the trooper fires back. I grit my teeth. Not the time, Mando. 

 We get into the room, and they do the normal identification stuff with both the Nova and the child, having opened its pod. A trooper brings me a collar and pair of handcuffs to put on Nova. She stirs, as if the restraints had awoken her. Quickly, I strap them on and hand her still-weak, half-awake form over to a trooper. Guilt forms like a boulder in my stomach, but I pay no mind. I can't now. It's already done. I have to forget this ever happened, forget about the child and Nova.

"How many fobs did you give out?" I demand.

"These assets were of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure their delivery." the client half-apologizes. Nova jolts awake at the new voice, finally seeming to notice the hands on her arms. She tenses, but doesn't move. Yet. "But to the winner... go the spoils."

The client sets a a large container holding the Beskar on the table. He opens the container to allow me to see inside.

They begin to take the child away. He lets out a cry, begging not to go with these strange people, and Nova's head snaps immediately to the baby, almost like a mother animal. With rage in her eyes, she begins to thrash, headbutting the trooper that holds her. He lets go of her, a hand going to his now-cracked helmet in surprise- and possibly pain. I tilt my head, watching her. Strange. I had learned, in the few days I spent with her, to notice a few signals of her anger. When she was incredibly angry, her eyes would flash bright, pure white, like a warning. They aren't doing so now, so either it's an act or her minimal restraints aren't actually so minimal. 

The client ignores Nova, grabbing my attention once more as he speaks, gesturing to my rewards. "Such a large bounty for such small, frail packages."

Nova pushes the two troopers off of her, running at a third. She holds her hand out, hovering under his neck, clasped around air. The Storm Trooper grabs her wrist tightly, laughs, and begins mocking her for looking and being so stupid, and I try to keep my fists from clenching. She looks down at her hand in shock. "What did you do?" she murmurs, barely loud enough for me to hear. Then, it's a scream, a desperate, frightened, raw scream. "What did you do to me?! How did you take my powers away? Where are they?!"

She continues shouting and thrashing violently as they lead her through the door, and I can see her fighting to keep tears from her eyes. And then she looks back at me and time stops completely. She stops moving, stops fighting, stops everything she's doing. For a moment I'm afraid she's stopped breathing. 

Something in her eyes breaks then, when she looks at me. I see raw, utter betrayal there, and nothing else. Not an offer for a last goodbye, not a plea for help, only the shattered, broken shards of her deceived, stabbed-in-the-back, betrayed soul. A voice in the back of my mind whispers to me. This isn't her first time being double-crossed. It's been done before. And you've just damned her to hell.

I shake the words off, but the damage is done. Time resumes again and I realize with a start that she's crying as they drag her through the door.

After a moment or two, I hear her scream. It's nothing like her screams in this room, it's a panicked scream, one without words that still manages to run its fingers down my spine. Unconsciously, my hand makes its way towards my blaster. I catch myself quickly. 

The scream cuts off abruptly and my head snaps to the door. The client just waves it off, ignoring the sounds of horror that will most assuredly make their way into my nightmares and instead gesturing to the case of Beskar. I pretend to examine them, but another sound comes from behind the door.

Only, it isn't a scream. Nova seems to know she can be heard now, so she yells furiously, "Screw you, Mandalorian! You said you wouldn't do it! You lying son of a bitch, I'll-" her words cut off once more, and no other sound comes from behind that wretched door. My stomach turns. They didn't kill her, did they?

"What are your plans for them?" I ask, my curiosity and guilt getting the best of me.

"How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation. You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the code of the Guild that these events are now forgotten?" He responds coldly. I shouldn't have asked. "That Beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel."

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