Your feet land lightly on the white flooring of the Republic prison ship as you swing from the lip of the opening to the ship. Rolling forwards to soften the landing, you pop up from the floor and move to press yourself against the wall of the hallway, out of sight from any incoming prison droids or guards. Mayfield is speaking into his comms device to Zero, asking for directions to the control room.
Din drops down from the Crest wielding his blaster and looks at you for a moment as Mayfield continues to speak.
"All right, we're on the clock. When we engage those droids, they're gonna be all over us."
"I know the drill," Din mumbles as he moves to stand by you, shielding you from the rest of the group. You can't help but smile at his protective manner, and you nudge his arm softly to acknowledge it.
Mayfield leads the way down the hall, weaving through the ship and poking out from behind corners. Din stays by your side, his grip tight on his blaster as he walks. You wield your own blaster, keeping it raised in preparation. Your mask hangs next to the saber on your belt and Din glances down upon noticing it. You had grabbed the mask before leaving the Crest, having a feeling that it would come into use in the near future. Gaseous grenades hide in the pouch of your belt and Din meets your gaze as he notices the glint of metal.
"Could be useful," you mutter softly.
Din's helmet tilts in curiosity. Those grenades won't have an effect on the prison droids, but a smirk slowly crosses over his lips as he realizes your intent. If the mercenaries turn against you, you're prepared. Din's helmet and your mask will protect the two of you from the gas, while the others will be knocked unconscious, sent into a hallucinative state, or killed, depending on which bomb you select.
The group quietly jogs through the halls, passing prison cells both empty and occupied. Your eyes meet those of a male prisoner; his arms are hanging from the slots in the cell door and he watches in silence as you pass by.
"I don't like this," Din mutters, glancing your way as you grimace nervously.
"You always were paranoid," Xi'an sings.
"Is that true, Mando? Were you always paranoid? Huh, sweetheart?" Mayfield looks to you. "Is he always paranoid?"
You smile as he's startled by the grunts of the prisoner nearest to him. The alien prisoner's arms reach out through the door in an attempt to grab ahold of the sharpshooter, but Mayfield jumps away with a yelp.
Xi'an snarls at the prisoner mockingly, giggling as she skips away.
This chick is mental, you think to yourself as your eyebrows knit together at her giddiness.
Zero's voice rings out from the comms system, interrupting their laughter.
"Approaching control room. Make a left at the next juncture."
Din peeks around the corner of a hallway, scanning the room for a threat before running to the opposite wall. He waves at the group hurriedly, gesturing that it was safe to move forward, and everyone crept their way through the hall. Borg walked ahead of the group, stopping when a mouse droid turns the corner and stops in front of him. The droid beeps and chatters in confusion at the sight of the group. Everyone tenses, aiming for the droid, but relaxes when they realize that it could not do any harm.
"It's just a little mousey," Burg chuckles. He draws his blaster and hides it behind his back as he starts to beckon the poor droid towards him. "Come on, little mousey."
"No, don't!" you whisper urgently. "Leave it alone!"
"Mousey, come here. Come here." He continues to walk towards the droid as it starts to back away in fear, squeaking as it moved.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Soul | Din Djarin
Fanfiction*SEASON TWO IN PROGRESS* Who knew that what a Jedi with a broken soul needed was a hunter to mend her back together... Alora Caddell is one of the few survivors of Order 66, who fought off the Imperial pursuers in the years after the Clone Wars. Her...
