Promises are made to be broken. Deals are made to be kept.
[The Mandalorian Season 1-2]
I do not own the Mandalorian or any of the Star Wars Universe characters/settings. I own Alora and her unique story.
Prequel to Promises and Deals --> Truth...
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Alora hates Tatooine. She especially hates that Mando just left her and the Child with his precious ship without even a warning for his departure. Sure, she had watched him the whole time, but a little conversation would've been nice.
Sharpening her knives, she remains in the cockpit, the Child secure in the small chamber Mando had given them to sleep. She'd rather never step foot back on this planet again, but Mando just had to land here. Stupid fuel leak.
A sudden screech and thud make Alora go still. With her newly sharpened daggers resting in her palms, she makes her way down to her sleeping quarters only to find it empty. A bolt of panic swims through her as she races out of the ship, a deadly glint in her eye when she sees the mechanic holding the Child.
"Now here's the plan: I am going to look after you until the Mandalorian gets back. And then I'm gonna charge him extra for watching you. You see how that works? Yeah, bright eyes? We're a team," she says with a grin.
Alora rips the Child from her grasp, a knife angled at the woman.
"Whoa!" She yells, throwing her hands up. "Watch where you aim that thing!"
Narrowing her eyes, Alora's grip tightens as she glances at the Child to find its bright eyes watching her.
The woman motions to the Child. "Is...is it yours?"
Alora grimaces, shaking her head.
"Well, you can put the knife down. It wandered out to me, ok? Your Mandalorian friend should be back soon with my money."
Pursing her lips, Alora reluctantly puts the dagger away and places the Child in her clothing having once-again made a small hold for him. She plucks the tablet from the woman's grasp, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.
Alora writes: I can work in exchange for a discount. Let the Mandalorian pay for the parts, and I'll do the labor.
When she returns it to the woman, she eagerly watches as the mechanic nods. "Fine, but he's getting charged for not telling me about you two. Name's Peli Motto. What can I call you?"
Alora shrugs.
"Not a talkative one, eh? No matter. I'll talk enough for the both of us. Little one's cute, ain't he?" Somehow, Peli grins at Alora; a wide grin, one full of trust Alora does not deserve. "How about this? I'll get him down for a nap while you get started on the fuel leak? You know what to do?"
Alora nods, though her face scrunches up when she looks down at the Child.
"Don't you worry, girlie," Peli says as she picks the Child up. "You do the work, and I get a break! We both win."
She can't stop the upward tick of her lips. As Alora gets to work, she removes her outer clothing, leaving her in just her pants and a strip of cloth that used to be white hiding her chest. She's learned the hard way in the past that Tatooine only gets hotter the longer you stay; better not to get her small supply of clothing dirty and sweaty from a half-day of work.
