Cyra| a Mandalorian/Star Wars Fan Fiction

1. On Tatooine

I stare intensely into my reflection in the mirror. Another day begins, as the rising suns begin to illuminate the entire homestead. I open the black notebook that sits next to the sink, and scratch into it a tally to signify another morning.

I return to my reflection. I trace the long, light pink scar that lies in a steady, thick line along the right side of face. It starts just underneath my jaw, and ends just underneath my right eye. I grab the hairbrush that sits next to the notebook quickly, trying to ignore my face, and begin to brush my thick, dark hair. I tie the top half into a bun at the back of my head, leaving the two white blonde-streaks at the front to frame my face. The streaks appeared when I was a baby. I've never questioned them.

I step out of my towel, and change into my clothes. A white cloth top that I wrap around myself and tie in a tight knot by my waist, with a pair of trousers of the same material, but of a more neutral-brown colour. I pick the towel of the floor, and hang it on the peg, swapping it for my black wool robe that I lay on my shoulders.

I walk out into the court yard, and slip on my black boots before walking round to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Food in hand, I walk past the dining room, and return to the court yard, sitting on the stone floor. I hardly ever sit in the small domed hutch that contains the dining table and chairs. It doesn't feel right when you're on your own.

I look around the homestead as I take a bite from my bread. Not all of it is in operation. The first year of living here with the others, we managed to get most of the water and power units on, which actually made the place liveable. Once they left, I didn't have the desire or energy to fix much else. In return for water and various other things I can offer, I trade with nearby neighbours and sometime the Sand People for food.

I stare up into the skylight in the ceiling of the domed roof. The blue, dusky sky glares back. No wind. A clear day. Good for fighting. If the days are too dusty or hot, I spend my time in doors reading any of the Jedi texts left behind. I've read them front to back countless of times now, but I still return to them in the hopes that something new throws itself at me. I finish my the last of my bread and my water, standing up to wash them in the kitchen sink.

That's when I feel it. Suddenly. A sensation rushes through my body. A feeling I haven't felt in a very long time. I drop my glass and plate. They make a clunky sound as they fall, their plastic material causing them to bounce off the stoned floor. Something is nearing the surface of the planet. It's difficult to sense if its dangerous. But its something strong with the force. I touch the side of my hip, and realise I had forgotten to take my lightsabre after my shower. I run silently across the courtyard into the sleeping chambers, grabbing it, as well as my dagger, from the bedside table. I attach the dagger to my side, whilst clutching the sabre tightly in my right hand. I quickly tiptoe my way across the courtyard once more and up the stairs, leading to the entrance of the homestead.

That's when I hear it, in the distance. A ship. I try to look into the sky, but dust has begun to fly everywhere, impacting my vision. The dust builds up, and I'm forced to shield my eyes, turning away from the sky to protect them. I hear the loudness of the ship steadily increase, and slow, indicating its descent to a landing position. The feeling inside me grows stronger. There is something on that ship to be fearful of.

The ship's landing allows the dust to settle back on the ground. I move my hand back down from my face and turn to look out. There's still a slight fog in the air, but through it comes the distinguishable sound of a ship door creaking open. It judders slightly as it hits the planet's sandy surface.

With the ship firmly on the planet's surface, the dust fully settles. I can see in the distance, the outline of a ship, but its exact markings are difficult to make out as it shakes under the heat. I can also see the outline of a figure dress in some sort of silvered armour. Its shininess reflects the bright light of the two rising suns. They haven't seen me yet. They are too busy staring at some device on their wrist. I slip around the left side of the domed entrance to the homestead, and work my way around the parameter. Once I've reached the back, I am on par with their position. I slowly work my way further around, swapping out my lightsabre for my dagger, clutching it tightly.

As I creep slowly around, a retain a close distance, and I finally gain a full image of the figure.

'Oh my god...' I utter under my breathe.

It's a Mandalorian. I had known one when I was younger, but I hadn't seen him in years. He had taught me about their history, and that crucially, their armour was made of beskar. I would have to tread carefully.

As soon as the distance between me and the Mandalorian stood at only a few metres, I took my chance.

I ran behind them, jumping, attempting to take the dagger to his neck, but I am too ambitious. I underestimate my speed and the height of the Mandalorian. They whip around sharply, grabbing their blaster and aiming it at me. Before I'm staring down the barrel, I've grabbed my lightsabre in the other hand and the two of us are frozen in a standstill. The purple from my sabre blade and the light blue from the dagger illuminate off their silver suit, creating purple and blue sparkled dots along the domed walls of the homestead.

'Who are-'

Before I can finish my sentence, I am thrown into the air with great force.

'NO!'

I heard the Mandalorian yell, as I am pushed against the homestead. I slide down the wall onto the floor in a heap. Slightly winded, I force myself onto my feet with my sabre and dagger once more.

'I've got this,' The Mandalorian says to a sphere that floats slowly beside him that I hadn't initially noticed. The voice sounds like one I recognise, but I cannot be certain.

'What do you want?' I ask, breathlessly, pointing my weapons at the Mandalorian. They turn away from the sphere, and face me.

'I've been sent to get you,' They reply, in a low, masculine voice.

'By who?' A lot of people had been sent to get me over the years. My name carries a high bounty. No one had come for months though. Those that arrive on the planet in search of me are usually here to kill me.

'I can't disclose that,' He replied.

'You need to leave then,' I warned.

'You know me,' He replied once more, placing his blaster away. 'Please, Cyra. You know us.'

'Us?' I questioned.

The sphere began to float towards me. Moving my weapons to my side warily, I peer inside. A green creature stares back at me, a small smile forming on his face.

'Oh my god...' I retract my weapons, and place them on my sides. 'Grogu?'

The creature reaches his hand out, and I touch it with mine. Hundreds of hours of memories flash through my brain in a series of milliseconds. I tear up. Everything has changed.

'Cyra?'

I whip my head quickly to face the Mandalorian who called my name. I remember everything now.

'Din Djarin.'