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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It is very clear to Mando that Alora dislikes boats. She fidgets beside him as she looks out into the crashing sea, her skin pale and clammy. After paying for passage to more Mandalorians, the family of three left the Frog people together at the local inn to sail away with a group of Quarren sailors.
Mando has yet to bring up what the New Republic officers revealed, and neither has Alora. It seems like she does not want to break their little bubble of peace either. Although he hates to admit it, these past few days with no privacy have made him miss the couple of times they have woken up together.
He'd like to selfishly keep their arrangement intact for the time being.
She ignores the ferryman behind her as she runs her hands up and down her arms covered with cloth. Her gaze stays locked on the sea as the Child coos between the two of them in his cradle.
Glancing at her, Mando asks, "You ok?"
"I don't like boats. And I have a bad feeling about this." He watches as she winces and bites her lip before turning to face him, her eyes darting behind him.
"You ever see a Mamacore eat? Quite a sight." Mando turns to see one of the ferrymen next to them. "Child might take an interest."
Alora rolls her shoulders as the Child coos loudly.
"You should take a look," the Quarren says. "Come on over here." He moves the small group over to the compartment square in the middle of the ship with a net of food hanging above them. Alora grips the side of the crib. "Get a good view. Let the kid see."
"Close enough," Alora mutters, even going so far as to take a step back as the sailors open the metal grates to reveal murky water with a shadow underneath.
The ferryman beside them holds up a rope as another presses a button to unleash the net; fish flop into the water and sink while bubbles surface. Alora grimaces as the Child leans forward. "She must be hungry," the ferryman chuckles. "Oftentimes, we'll feed her in the early morning, but we missed that 'cause we were goin' out of port."
Mando notices Alora move before he can even sense the danger. Her foot hooks around the Child's cradle, her calf pressing against the button to close it as she flings it back. The Child's cry of surprise gets muffled when it hits the edge of the ship, but Mando's attention remains on Alora while he reaches for his blaster.
She isn't fast enough to block the swipe of the ferryman's metal rod or stop the fall. A yelp escapes her lips as she flops into the bubbling water, gasping as she kicks her feet to stay afloat. It only takes a second for something to drag her under, her scream echoing in his helmet.
"No!" He shouts, diving in after her. His heart pounds against his ribs as the flashlight attached to his helmet switches on, but the water is so murky, he can't see anything—no Alora, no creature, nothing. When he goes back up for breath, the Quarren start striking him with their poles, shouting about something he doesn't bother listening to as he grips the grate now sealing them into the watery grave with the Child trapped in his small cradle just out of sight, unable to help.
