Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When one chooses to walk the way of the Mandalore, you are both hunter and prey. ― Jon Favreau, The Mandalorian
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE AIR WAS FILLED by the scent of sweetened spices and without opening her eyes, Meirina knew the dawn had arrived on Mandalore. The heat in her room was fairly rising with every minute of sunshine, but even though she was still dressed in her dark top and the tight dark leather pants, a strange cold had wrapped around her bones like an icy grip in her dreams.
She had fallen asleep on her bunk in the late night, as Concordia had been wide up at the horizon and her program was still figuring out the algorithm of the kriffing code. Five hours in, with reddening eyes as she watched the program rushing through several lines of codes, Meirina had started regretting taking the black box with her. She questioned if she should have just taken the nice bounty instead. Enough credits to buy a new T-HSE fission engine for Ronon's ship ( which found more and more herself in its pilot seat ). The ship however was a real nightmare for any mechanic and she didn't understand why Ronon kept the little transporter. It was the fastest ship they had, but the amount of constant calibrations were a nightmare for themselves and she would prefer to concentrate on flying, rather than keeping an eye out for sudden fried energy converters. At this point, the ship was held together by nothing but good luck.
Still, the ship hadn't disappointed her... yet. She hadn't been stranded on some backwater planet in the middle of nowhere with that thing, but that luck would be depleted one day or another, and she did not want to tempt fate. Considering the amount of short circuits she had lived and died through just yesterday when she returned. She couldn't remember ever going through such a stressful flight.
She wouldn't leave Mandalore for the next week for sure, as no other ships were available for her journeys and one deadly flight a month was enough.
Her neck was tense and a sharp sting went through her entire upper back, as she sat up from her bed. Sitting so long in front of her computer and hoping the security encryption of the First Order black box wouldn't set off the self-destruction, hadn't been gentle on her back. But better than a destroyed quarter, as it was beyond anything, she'd like to explain to her Navi in the middle of the night.
