The Mandalorian's Slave

So Many Surprises

"Wake up, Mandalorian."

I jump, my body roused out of a weak sleep. Din is instantly pushing me behind him while aiming his blaster.

I search for the droid responsible for ruining my sleep, only to see it's one of the droids we scrapped speaking. The droid is still barely assembled, little more than a head and pile of wires.

"This cannot wait until morning," the droid continues. "Do not be alarmed. I bypassed the droid's security protocols and accessed its vocabulator."

That's when I notice that the frog lady is holding a bundle of wires too. She's the one behind this.

"What the hell are you doing?" The Mandalorian demands angrily. "That droid is a killer."

"These eggs are the last brood of my life cycle," our passenger explains through the droid. "My husband has risked his life to carve out an existence for us on the only planet that is hospitable to our species. We fought too hard and suffered too much to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line. I must demand that you hold true to the deal that you agreed to."

"Look, lady, the deal is off," Din spits irritably. "We're lucky if we get off this frozen tomb with our lives."

"I thought honoring one's word was a part of the Mandalorian code. I guess those are just stories for children. But what surprises me the most is how willingly you are to risk her life."

I feel all eyes turn toward me. I force myself to stop shivering so obviously, but it's futile. I'm not made for the cold.

The Mandalorian releases a gusty sigh. He stands up slowly, the cold turning him sluggish as well.

"I can help you," I offer. I stand up as well, not waiting for a response.

"This was not part of the deal," the Mandalorian hisses angrily to the frog lady.

We don't have to walk to the exit to get out of the ship. A nasty gash runs down its side near the cockpit. It's large enough for both Din and I to step out of it easily.

The Razor Crest is a wreck, to put it lightly. It looks like the junk I would salvage on Jakku. Black smoke billows up from near the engine. Live wires spark and dance around in the frosty air. Deep scars run down the entire ship. I doubt it could start, let alone get us out of this planet system.

"Let's get to work," I mutter.

XXX
I'm not sure how long we've been working. My fingertips burn and my nose runs. Frost has collected on my hair, making the spiraling curls look as though they've been formed out of silver.

A soft whimper makes me jump. I whirl around to see the Child, waving his arms agitatedly.

"How about you come over here, give me a hand?" The Mandalorian says darkly to the Child. "Make yourself useful."

The Child shuffles away, perched on snow drifts taller than him.

"Hey, kid," Din calls. The Child does not turn around. "I said hey! Where are you going? Come back here!"

I get up quickly, following my master and our runaway kid. The Child has stopped himself in front of a pair of delicate footprints.

"When did she go?" I ask the Child lightly.

He replies in a string of gibberish.

"The tracks lead into a cave," the Mandalorian states. "By the look of them, they're fresh. We'd better find that bitch before she gets us into more trouble."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I can't imagine how we could get into more trouble," I say, bending down to pick the Child up.

We follow the tracks into the cave, snow falling down lightly upon us. My eyes light up as we enter the cavern. Everything is bathed in a deep blue light, illuminating the icicles dangling from the ceiling. Without the wind, it's even slightly warmer in here.

Neither Din nor I speak, our hands close to our blasters. The cave's beauty is indeed impressive, but I can't shake a scary feeling that something dark awaits us.

The scent of sulfur attacks my nose. We enter a large cavern filled with hot springs. And bathing right in the middle of one is our passenger.

"There you are," I hiss quietly. "We can't leave the ship. It's not safe out here."

Her eggs bob on the surface of the steaming water. The heat in intoxicating, I'll admit it. Part of me wants to slip into the water and never leave.

I set the Child down as Din and I collect the eggs.

"Let's gather these up," I say, much to the frog lady's dismay. "I know it's warm," I say sympathetically. "But night's coming fast, and we can't protect you out here."

Part of me is dimly aware that the Child is wandering off. But with his little legs, I assume he can't get into much trouble.

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. "Master," I warn in a low, barely audible voice.

The Child makes a high-pitched whine and begins wobbling toward us. All around him, the small oval-shaped rocks begin to shake.

Except they're not oval-shaped. They're egg shaped. Because that's exactly what they are.

I repress a scream as the first spider hatches. I scoop up the Child immediately, fear nearly paralyzing me.

The spiders crawl toward us, an army of my worst nightmares. The Mandalorian slings the frog lady's eggs over his shoulder. She croaks in alarm, her eyes wide with fear. She dresses frantically, her entire body shaking. I'm not sure I'm faring much better.

Larger spiders emerge from deeper in the cave. They range from the size of my head to the height of my waist. And then it emerges.

The mother of all spiders.

It's body is a motley of blue and white, perfectly camouflaged for its surroundings. Curved, yellow fangs jut out of an enormous circular mouth. It roars, sending icicles plummeting from the ceiling.

I manage to yell two words. "Fucking run!"