Never Again: Din Djarin

The Mechanic

Daybreak. The sun shone through the small window in my room, illuminating the walls in a river of yellow light. I sat up and stretched, lifting my arms above my head until a small crack rung out and twisting my back until it did the same. Suppose to be a quiet day today, I thought. Only one major repair was scheduled, some speeder that needed it's hood replaced.

I got up and made my way towards the kitchen to get some caf started. The warm liquid filled me up and energized me almost immediately. I put on some fresh clothes and headed out the door towards work.

-

Baxter's Mechanics wasn't far from my home, so it didn't take me long to get there. My boss, the shop's name sake, was very cheap and demanding at times and he was always taking on the fun jobs while I got stuck with the grunt work. He lost more money than he made in part due to a serious sabacc addiction. Sometimes, he would leave during shop hours to gamble away his life savings. I couldn't complain too much, though. He gave me a job when I needed it most and never asked questions when I needed advances in my salary. Yet, part of me yearned for more. I had lived on Jakku my whole life. I wanted to see the stars, to explore other worlds, to have no responsibilities except to myself and my ship. It was a fools hope, one that I knew could never realistically happen. But, a girl could dream.

The second I walked in through the front doors, Baxter was on me. "Viv, where the hell have you been? I have been working my ass off in here for the past hour while you were taking your sweet time."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were opening up earlier than usual."

He shushed me. "I don't have time for excuses. We have a guy in the hanger with a severely banged up ship. One of his engines is shot and there's major carbon scoring on the hull, plus a million other things wrong. He's a Mandalorian, no less. You don't see many of them around these parts. I need you in there fixing it, double time, got it?"

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Not that it's any of your business," he snapped. "But, I'm going for a nice early morning drink and maybe some time at the sabacc table. Now get in there. And, remember, he's a Mandalorian. He could kill us both if you do a bad job, so don't mess up!"

"Swell," I muttered.

"Don't take that tone with me, brat. You forget that I'm the one who pays you. You work for me and if I ever hear that sarcasm from you again, you'll wish you'd never been born." With that, he strutted out towards the cantina across the street and I made my way into the hanger.