beneath the beskar | the mandalorian

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art credit: dajwijn on imgur and reddit

His breath was ragged, visor fogging slightly with the warmth. A certain tension in his hands had built up over the past days, a sign his anger was well past its breaking point. Now, he finally had the chance to use it.

Once they had arrived at the base, It hadn't taken long to run into someone who knew Quin. It was clear by the way they described her, that the pilot was a person with little agenda other than to drink and cause trouble while off duty. The informant had even seen her take off with a friend and a young girl hours before Mando had landed, pointing him in the direction of the most popular nightclub in the city. For once, it seemed the universe was on his side.

His beskar clanked as he walked slowly up to the guards at the door. They looked him up and down, settling on the sack at this side with suspicious eyes. Mando responded by placing his glove across the top of it, shielding the child from popping his head out of the makeshift sling.

"I'm here on guild business" he informed, a lie he had used before to get past security. Usually, being a Mandalorian was enough to make them budge, but it seemed these guards were harder to convince.

"We don't want any trouble here, Mando" one of them grumbled, holding onto the rifle in his arms tightly. He squared his shoulders in an attempt to look more menacing, but the action was ineffective. The Mandalorian's glove moved from the bag to his holster, hovering dangerously close to the blaster at his hip.

"Then step aside" he warned. The guard who had spoken looked across to the other, as if to ask him what to do.

"It ain't worth it," he said, already moving out of the way while making eye contact with his partner. The first guard scoffed as he too moved to the side of the archway, mumbling obscenities that Mando didn't stick around to hear.

With determination in every step, he entered the hall to the main room. It took only a second for his visor to adjust to the dark lighting, revealing the crowded space he was anticipating.

While visiting Nevarro, he had seen a picture of the pilot in question. She had long red curls that reached her mid-back; a hair color and style that was uncommon for Republic personnel. To make matters easier, it was likely the pilot would be all too willing to reveal herself. Having dealt with bounties of this profile many times before, he knew they all acted the same. They would hide until their undying thirst for spotcha and loud music drew them out,

and that's when Mando would strike.

With one last glance around the room, he began trekking across the smooth floor. The people he passed practically tripped over themselves getting out of the way, only giving him a clearer view of the bar in the center. It was round like in most clubs, allowing for more patrons and space behind the counter to mix drinks.

He felt the child stir at his side and placed a comforting hand on the pouch as he made his way around the bar. Person after person, he scanned for his target, eventually reaching the backside of the circle with no luck.

A huff came out as a sharp mechanical sound, and he quickly scanned the back wall for a mane of red hair. It was hard to see at first, but his eyes finally caught the firey tint behind one of the many supports in the building. From the shadow at her side, it was clear she wasn't alone, and the hopeful part of Mando's brain thought it could be Jane.