Armored Passion | The Mandalorian

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One gloved hand and one bare hand.

It's him.

It has to be—

Gideon suddenly pops up to his feet in a trice, breaking my train of thought as I spin around to face him properly. He whips out a blaster and manages to shoot Bo-Katan square in the chest, knocking her down to the ground before turning to face Grogu. The muzzle of his small blaster levels out with the little green child before he pulls the trigger, causing Din and I to—quite literally—jump into action.

Din dives forward in an attempt to block any of the incoming blaster shots with his beskar armor, but Gideon doesn't even get the chance to shoot another round, nor does his first blaster bolt ever meet its original target. Without even thinking about it, my hands had shot forward into the air. One of them stops Gideon from moving any further while the other stops the blaster bolt that had been heading towards Din and Grogu.

Gideon's eyes widen as I keep a tight hold on him and slowly stride over to the burning red blaster bolt that's buzzing loudly in the middle of the tense air, completely stuck in place as I do my best to hold it back with the force. Din immediately swoops the child up into his arms and moves out of the way before I whip one of my lightsabers up to deflect the shot to the ceiling of the bridge.

I slowly turn back around to face Gideon, who still happens to be frozen in his spot thanks to my tight grasp on him through the force. Once I'm toe-to-toe with the tall Imperial Moff, I turn my lightsabers off. My brown eyes stare at the silver metal of the weapon for a few short moments, analyzing each intricate edge and smooth flat.

"You know, I forgot to mention this one little thing that's really been bothering me for the past few days," I say, letting out a heavy sigh while shaking my head in a disappointed manner. I take a deep breath and look back into his blown-up eyes. "You blew up my fucking ship, and I'm still mad."

I wind my arm back and whack the edge of the silver hilt across his face, immediately knocking him out in one clean hit. He slams down onto the floor, limp and unconscious. I nod my head a few times while rolling my shoulders back into a comfortable position.

"Alright, now I really feel better," I say, shrugging my shoulders as I step over his unconscious body and back over to where Din and Grgou are now huddled in front of a small screen on the nearest standing command board. I carefully pat Grogu's head, rubbing his ears as I steal a glance at the screen they're looking at.

The Jedi in question has taken out all of the Dark Troopers on the lower level of the ship and is already heading into the lift that leads right up to the bridge level we're on.

Perfect.

"Open the—"

A coughing fit interrupts my unfinished request, causing me to turn away from everyone to shove my face into the natural bend of my arm. My ribs shake as harsh coughs rack my entire body, forcing me to hold my free hand out in an attempt to balance against one of the command boards.

Din is immediately at my side, one of his gloved hands falling onto the curve of my waist while the other gently squeezes my shoulder.

Come on, I just have to last a little longer before I can crash.

I pull my face away from my arm, using the cuff of my sleeve to wipe away the remnants of red blood that has stained the corners of my mouth. I clear my throat and nod my head once before turning back around to face the small crowd. Din keeps his hands on me, steadying me out as I forcibly take a deep breath to replenish my heaving lungs.

Everyone has their eyes set on me, sending me worried glances that I choose to ignore. Maker, even Bo-Katan—who's already back on her feet after taking a kriffing close-range blaster shot to the chest plate—has the visor of her helmet glued to me.