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 has been quiet today, and it worries him. They followed their familiar routine, but she hasn't said a word. Not when they were landing, not when the Child used his strange powers, and not when they left his ship in the middle of the burnt forest. She holds the Child close to her chest with her cloak tightly wrapped around her, metal jingling at her sides.
"We back to not talking?" Mando asks, a sliver of worry inching into his voice.
She shakes her head. "Everything here is dead," she replies softly. "The city is walled off. Strategically, we could be walking into the perfect trap."
As they walk up to the gated city together, Alora reluctantly places the Child in a spacious bag, laying the flap over his head gently. Mando watches as she covers her face with her hood and takes a step closer to him.
"We'll be fine," he says. "If anything happens, you know what to do."
Her nod does not reassure him as it usually would.
"State your business." Mando looks up to see soldiers on top of the gate.
"Been tracking for a few days," Mando says. "My associate and I are looking for a layover."
"Nice armor." Alora tenses beside him. "You a hunter, then?"
"That's right."
"Guild?"
"Last we checked," Alora speaks up but keeps her face concealed. Her voice surprises him—it holds an air of authority he rarely hears from her.
The man asking all the questions glances at the other guards. "Open the gate."
They walk together through the metal gate to see a community of people in rags. Mando frowns as he looks around at citizens who hurry out of view while Alora glances behind them at the guards manning the gate and the ones spread throughout the town with loaded blasters.
Her hand wraps around his wrist as she pushes the Child's satchel further beneath her cloak.
"Pardon me, vendor," Mando says as he walks over to a small stand. "Have you heard of anyone—" The old woman walks away, and Mando sighs in annoyance.
Glancing around, he leads Alora to the nearest alley to find a man kneeling before two small children. "You there," Mando calls. "I need some information. I'm looking for someone."
The man nervously dismisses the children before standing as Alora's grip tightens. "Please, do not speak to them or to any of us."
"Look, I just want to know—"
"The Magistrate wants to see you." Mando slowly turns to find two guards behind them. Looking down at Alora, he realizes just how hard it is to read her with her face concealed. Reluctantly, he allows the guards to walk them to the center of town where they see three people trapped on elevated platforms, electricity crackling every few seconds.
