A Life Without Meaning

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕣 (𝕀𝕍)

After they pulled back into the hangar, the Mandalorian went down to return the prisoner and collect his pay out. He came back not even a minute later with a small pouch full of credits.

Wordlessly, they sat in the cockpit, as he pulled them out of the hangar as fast as he could manage.

They had only been drifting away from the ship for a few seconds, when Ellia suddenly caught sight of three ships dropping out of hyperspace right in front of them. Leaning forward in her seat, she watched as they passed them right by. Immediately she recognized the unique design of the three New Republic X-wings. Her head turned with them as they darted out of their view, ignoring the Razorcrest completely and instead gunning for the hangar they had just vacated with much haste.

Not seconds later, she saw a bright orange light originate from somewhere far off of their flank. The color reflected blindingly in the silver panels of the engines.

Raising an eyebrow, she turned towards the Mandalorian sitting in the pilot's chair.

"You wouldn't have had anything to do with that would you?" she asked, even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

The Mandalorian just shrugged his shoulders before pressing the lever forward and jolting the ship into hyperspace and effectively away from danger for the time being.

After he did, he slumped back in his seat, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

"I told you that was a bad idea." Ellia noted, reaching up to press on her throbbing temple.

The Mandalorian scoffed at her comment, reaching over to unscrew the silver knob of one of the console's levers, then turning to his right so that he could plop it into the child's waiting hands.

Swiftly, he then spun his chair around, rising to his feet.

"Come on" his voice sounded, "Let's see what we can do for your head." he said, leaving the cockpit altogether.

Blinking in surprise, it took Ellia a second to rise and follow him down into the hull.

When she did, he immediately ordered her to sit down in one of the seats against the wall while he went to retrieve a med pack.

Returning with it, he squatted down in front of her. He placed the pack on the seat to her left, taking out the few materials that he needed.

Ellia found herself watching him intently as he moved, as if every motion fascinated her. And in hindsight, she supposed that was the case.

As he carefully unwrapped the cooling packs and pulled out the roll of bandages, she found her attention drifting towards his gloves, analyzing the yellow leather of the fingers and the blue triangle that was plastered on top of the metal patches.

She suddenly found the courage to speak,

"Can I ask you something?" she said quietly as the Mandalorian placed one of the cooling plasters against the bump on her forehead.

"Sure" he said absentmindedly as he continued the work, reaching down for the roll of bandages with his free hand.

"That code you follow" she started, "About the helmet. Not being able to show your face. Does that extend to- other parts of you? Like your hands, or arms?" she asked curiously.

The Mandalorian didn't answer her at first, as he was carefully wrapping the bandages around her head in order to keep the pack pressed up against her injury.

"Not explicitly" he finally responded.

Ellia's eyes were still watching him closely. The helmet was right in front of her now, the visor trained towards her forehead.