(This will be continuing the short story I had written here.)


“I was so close!” he growled and stood up while gazing to the sky above, “…so close.” He sighed and let himself slip into silence. Owl had since ventured out to meet his master and gave a inquiring chirp. The mandalorian raised a hand that conveyed a: not now, as he stalked back towards the speeder. Yet the remote was persistent and it followed up with an alarming hoot and bobbed in the air distractingly. “What is it?” he practically shouted at the droid which shot back in alarm. As it recovered it began to nudge the mandalorian before shooting off towards the crest of the hill.

Mav followed after as his mind began to run over the possibilities. It was most likely tusken raiders, the wild natives of Tatooine who were always ready to pick fights with those that trespassed on their desert. It came as a shocking surprise to the mandalorian then as what he found staring directly at him when he reached the top was none other than the most feared predators of the desert planet itself. A thunderous Krayt Dragon with massive teeth barred as it smelled the mandalorian out came stomping towards him with the intent to kill. “Osik...” he clenched his teeth and quickly brought forth his trusty rifle to face the incoming foe.

The krayt must have been attracted to the sounds of the fight that must have occurred when his brother tried to take the con-artist down, and was probably eager to pick off any survivors along with any other living things around the area. That list of possible meals just so happened to include Mav.

There was not enough time to take a precise shot as the krayt dragon rapidly closed the distance between itself and the mandalorian. Running was out of the question as the dragon stomped down on the speeder during its charge, crushing it into a flattened hunk of metal.
Mav took a quick guess and aim before firing off a pot shot towards the dragon’s scaly head. He was pleased to hear the large dragon wail out in a mix of surprise and pain, alas this did little to slow its advance and Mav was forced to attempt another shot with similar results. The distance was far too close for his liking and the mandalorian had to immediately drop to the sand to avoid the clamping jaws of the dragon as it passed by.

The mandalorian had a brief period of respite as the dragon stumbled for a few of its mighty paces in its attempt to slow before taking a swipe with its beefy tail. The tail was far too large to dodge and it smacked into the warrior causing him to howl out in surprise and pain as bones broke against the impact. The blow was so forceful that Mav had been tossed off from where he had been standing and landed some fair distance down the slope. To make matters worse, one of the many spines on the dragon’s tail had found an unprotected section of the mandalorian’s torso and caused a deep gash before slipping back out again. Mav continued to slide down the slope helplessly as the world came in and out of focus. It felt like death was upon him, and he had finally met a creature he could not take down. Then it occurred to him that had he been but a few moments sooner in his arrival that he could be with his brother on their way to reunite with the rest of their clan. This brought up a soft cry from the mandalorian, not that he was going to die but that it would be so alone and bested by a beast too. His family would never learn of his demise, and perhaps they too would search in vain for many years to come.

Then as may come to those who had thought themselves resigned to death, one last hope welled up in the mandalorian’s battered chest as the krayt dragon peaked its head over the dune to stare directly at its prey. He had his final opportunity at that moment as the perfect shot opened itself to him. With the last reserves of his strength Mav brought his rifle to bear and with a few strained breaths sighted his rifle over the weak spot in the dragon’s otherwise impenetrable defenses. With the trained muscles of the hunter that he was he pulled the trigger in as clean a fashion as was possible considering his predicament. The shot rang out, as so many had before it, and a life was extinguished just the same. One shot, one kill.

The dragon let out a lingering roar as life escaped it and it slammed down against the sand. The mandalorian let his rifle settle down against the ground next to him and he allowed himself to relax. Surely he was still doomed to die, but he had not lost and that gave him reassurance. Settling into this calming state of mind as he drifted into unconsciousness, he did not notice the figure approaching cautiously out of the sands that whirled about to figure out what the ruckus had been about.

The mandalorian gave out a groan of discomfort as he stirred. What had happened? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it had all been a dream, or rather a nightmare more like it. Mav shuddered as he recalled the kryat dragon and his brother’s departure. It had to have been a nightmare, it just had to. This state of mind was comforting for a while as he remained happily oblivious to where he was situated at the time. Yet as with all escapes from reality, it came to a close. He began to take note of how unlike the place he was sleeping in was from his ship. Maybe he had gotten a room somewhere, but he certainly had no memory of that.

Owl bobbed on over and nudged the mandalorian to get him up to which Mav replied with a growl and muttered some obscenity under his breath. The bed was not his own, that much he could be certain of. Pushing him up to get out he froze as a sudden spike of pain shot through his body. With a cry the mandalorian slumped back down into the bed, “Ow, ow, ow…” It was then that he decided to look down at the cause for his pain and found his chest wrapped in bandages. “What…?” he coughed and tried to inspect the extent of his wounds. It felt like broken ribs, but what was that other searing pain that worked its way down from his chest to his side? The only way he could tell would be if he removed the bandages, but he wasn’t so curious as to risk making matters worse for himself. Whoever had put them on knew what they were doing and he wasn’t going to tamper with that. Yet it raised a question, who had tended to him seeing as the duel with the krayt dragon was quite real. The mandalorian shoved the fact that his years of searching also had collapsed around him aside into the back of his mind as well.

As Mav looked about, pondering his situation, a door on the opposite side of the room parted to let a figure pass through. With a hidden smirk of satisfaction, the Mandalorian woman acknowledged the fact that he seemed surprised to find another of his kind tending to him. In one hand, she carried a bag with contents unknown, and in the other a pitcher of water. Her boots made a slight scuffling sound as they crossed the floor, sand having made its way into many of the hut’s surfaces and crevices. It was unavoidable.

Before she made it half way, the avian-like remote unhooked itself from Mav’s bunkpost and made a beeline for the woman, only this time it flew slow circles around her from a distanced radius. At the sound of its low hoots, the figure laughed, a young feminine sound coming from her helmet’s speakers. Holding out the arm with the bag, she let the curious little droid perch there and turned to Mav.

“Quite the persistent beskar’ad you’ve got here, vod. Rather annoying little thing when trying to patch up a wound, always hovering like that,” she said as she took a seat by the bedside. She knew that she hadn’t exactly given the most informative of introductions, but she figured he was capable of asking his own questions.

“Oh, and before we get into the “where am I”s and “who are you”s, you need to drink this. It’ll reinforce the salve on that slash of yours and help you breathe easier, as I’m sure you’re still suffering from some of the more potent effects of that Krayt venom.”

She handed him the pitcher then, and if he looked close, he would be able to just make out little green specks floating around within it.


((Beskar'ad = "droid"))

Mav watched Owl dart off to circle the mandalorian woman ahead and he easily figured out who must have helped him. The droid wouldn’t be so social with those it didn’t trust, and for it to have come to trust her without his approval must have meant she had done something worthy. Mav figured that saving his life was worthy enough to Owl to earn its trust. This brought a smile to the mandalorian’s face and he would have chuckled had it not hurt so much.

“Well he can get into things he shouldn’t, but Owl means well,” Mav nodded towards the droid as it lingered on the woman’s arm. Then his eyes drifted to the concoction and sighed, “If it’s the doctor’s orders” He reluctantly lifted it to his lips, and after a hesitant sniff, sipped it down. The mandalorian grimaced before settling back down again with Owl coming over to perch next to his head. “Alright, since you gave me the idea… Where am I, and who are you?” he grinned despite the pain and scratched the side of his head absent mindedly.

“This,” she said, laughing as she sat the bag down in her lap, “is paradise. Can’t you tell?”

Placing a hand on either side of her helmet, she popped the seal and slid it off, revealing a young, kind-looking face. She couldn't have been more than twenty. There was a sort of subtle attractiveness to her features, but it wasn’t overwhelmingly obnoxious either. She didn’t have the “fake” beauty of a holovid actress, but rather a natural look about her, undoubtedly borne from years of living on the harsh desert planet. Her hair, plaited in two lines down the back of her head, was a sort of dark auburn, not nearly as bright as Mav’s ginger color.

“And you can call me Mesh,” she explained, leaving off the full version of her name for now. Only her father had ever used it anyway… never minding the fact that they lived more or less alone.

“Your turn," she chimed in. "Who are you and why are you here?”

Mav nodded, “Ah, so it is. I and here I was thinking I was dead and passed on!” he raised a finger as he spoke to emphasis the heavenly aspect that he was mentioning. Owl hooted casually and bounced along the cot. “Of course I’ll get it for you, pesky droid,” he sighed and glanced over to the woman as she removed her helmet. “Mesh, got it…” he glanced around trying to locate his pack.

The mandalorian grumbled for a bit as he poked around for what the droid had demanded of him. Mav retrieved a power cell from his gear and snatched Owl out of the air where it was hooting obnoxiously. Ignoring the burning sensation from moving he fitted in the new power cell to replace the old one that was running on dry. Mav glanced up from his work and released the newly-recharged droid to shoot off into another spree of hoots. “Name’s Mav, and I was looking for my brother,” he gave a depressed sigh and scratched the side of his head again.

Mesh'la, as was her full name, dug around through the bag she had brought while Mav was busy replacing his droid's battery. Pulling out a small kit, she replied to his equally-brief introduction.

"I take it he had somethin' to do with that ori'me'sen that touched down? It's how I found you, by the way,” she said as she lifted the object up so he could see it. “This here should help patch up your kute. Unless you’d rather I did it, but I have to warn you I’m not as good at fixing things as I am people.”

Her brown eyes looked from the package held aloft by her spiked gloves to Mav's freckled face as she waited for his reply.

((Translations: Big ship // underarmor))

Mav eyed the kit curiously as he began to run through his head what he’d need to repair his gear. The vest that held the plates together wouldn’t be an easy fix, and he’d probably need to gather a new hide to use. Preferably he’d use something far sturdier in the future, and maybe incorporate some of that energy-absorbing weave implemented in some light armors to reduce blasters’ effectiveness. He cocked a brow as he spied the damaged cuirass and took note of just how bad the tear really was. It painted a pretty good picture of what he must have looked like underneath those bandages.

“Aye, that was him. Two years I had been looking for him, and found him I did. It’s just that I found him too late and he was gone, just like that…” he growled and grabbed a fistful of the bunk in anger but forced himself to calm down. “Sorry, it’s just frustrating.”

“Don’t apologize for how you really feel,” she said, watching him as he started to look over the kit she had given him. It wouldn’t fix everything he had wrong with his suit, but it had a needle and thread along with some heavy-duty tape. It might not be pretty, but it’d keep it together until he could find a real armor-smith.

“So uh, what about the rest of your clan? Is he all that’s left?” she asked, hoping the question wouldn’t upset him. Family was a touchy subject for some people. She knew that all too well.

Mav nodded and shut his eyes as he mused over what she said. It made sense to him, but he didn’t want to fall into a rampage either. The mandalorian tapped his fingers rhythmically over his chest as he took in the momentary silence between them. Owl had actually managed to quiet down for a moment and had settled down against Mav’s neck, though whether he had noticed or not, the mandalorian didn’t show it.

“My clan…?” he gazed at the ceiling overhead in silence as he attempted to piece together all that he had clued together. “As far as I’m aware we’ve still got some numbers left, though I have no idea where they are. Only person I could even get a lead on was my brother and you saw how that turned out,” he groaned. Then, with the subject of family in mind he began to glance around the room till he spied an image of Mesh and another person. He took a guess and said, “Your dad?” he nodded towards the picture.

Mesh’la waited patiently as he gathered himself up to speak again. When he finally did, she listened attentively, nodding in the appropriate places. He paused as he looked about the room, but she let his eyes roam, her own thoughts elsewhere. Leaning back in the seat, his comment took her by surprise somewhat, and then she remembered the holoimage her father had kept on his wall for years.

She had kept herself from looking at it for the past few months, but she followed Mav’s gaze now and half regretted it. A much younger Mesh’la stood in the picture, peering out from under a helmet that was clearly too big for her then. Beside her, her father smiled, one arm wrapped around her shoulder and the other giving a thumbs-up. Mav deserved credit; the man in the picture looked nothing like the girl to his left. His dark features were a bit of a contrast to her somewhat fairer tone.

“ ‘Lek, ibac ner buir…” she said, her voice considerably softer than it had been previously. She knew the questions which would come next, so she decided to answer them preemptively. “Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la. I just wish I knew who did it,” she explained, adopting a tone very similar to the one Mav had used earlier when talking about his brother. It was tough, desiring revenge but not knowing who deserved to feel the wrath. She'd wrestled with the feelings for the three months since his death, but still hadn't come to terms with them yet.

((Translations: Yeah, that's my father. // He's passed on.))

(had to make a quicky post, little time left)

Mav noticed how she was struggling not unlike how he had been, though her sorrow was much credible than his own. At least he still had his brother, and it didn’t look like she had much other family to speak of. He decided not to press the matter and tried to think of a new topic.

“So uh, any idea when I can actually get out of this bed?” he had started to become uncomfortable in the enclosed confines of the hut, and a faint glisten of sweat began to form on his brow. Owl hooted in agreement and bobbed is way over towards the exit. Mav looked after the droid and glared at it till it returned mournfully.

Mesh’la smiled again, thankful for his changing of the subject. “Well, you really should rest until you’re healed. I’ve got a bacta patch on your wound but even that will take a while. Rib fractures like yours should be given at least a few weeks in bed, because all it takes is a little extra movement in the wrong way for it to bring you all the way back to square one. Of course, I’m not making you stay or anything…”

She realized she had been borderline ranting and shut up for a moment before continuing, “If you want to heal faster, I can drive you down to Bestine’s medical facility. It’ll cost a bit, but they can toss you in a tank and what would take two weeks might only take a few days.”

A part of her hoped he’d stick around a while. Since her father had passed, she’d literally only talked to a handful of people whenever she had to run into one of the towns for supplies. Life alone on Tatooine was a miserable experience sometimes; she was amazed that her father had managed to do it before she showed up.

“I know, I know, but its getting a bit small in here…” he chuckled nervously and glanced around with equal anxiety. How he longed to get some fresh air, but he was in no condition to be moving around, he understood that but it didn’t help his anxiety. Mav shifted uncomfortably on the cot as he tried to feel less enclosed. Owl picked up on his discomfort and gave a soothing hoot and nudged him gently and reassuringly.

The mention of being tossed into a tank caused all color to drain away from his face and made his freckles stand out even more as he shuddered from the thought. He had only been conscious while in a tank once before and he had nearly done more damage to himself trying to get out of it than he had when he came into it. Since then they had always made sure to make sure he was nice and drugged before he went in, though he doubted the local medical facility would let him get away with that. "I think Ill stay right here," he laughed nervously again.