Never Again: Din Djarin

The Streets of Raxus

The roads were quiet as night had fallen on Raxus. A few drunk stragglers wandered the lanes, tripping over their own feet and laughing gregariously. Spice addicts shuffled into alleys, searching for their next fix and many of the shops were closed for the night, lights dimming as people prepared for what awaited the next morning.

What have I done? I thought. This was a horrible idea. I should just go back and apologize and beg Din to forgive me. I wiped my watery eyes and let out a small whimper. My impulsive decision to leave was beginning to weigh heavily on me, but my stubbornness and my anger prevented me from turning around and going back to the Crest. He probably didn't even want me back, to be honest. I continued walking, intoxicated patrons calling to me, trying to entice me into the one bar that was still open.

Two Zabraks came up to me, blocking my way forward. One of them said, "Where are you headed to?" I could smell the alcohol on his breath as I tried to shove past them. The other grabbed my arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Hey, my friend asked you a question," he said.

"Just leave me alone," I responded, trying to wrench my arm free. He suddenly pulled out a vibroblade and my chest tightened as my breath quickened.

"It's dangerous for a young girl to be roaming around late at night. You should be more careful. Who knows, something might happen to you." He smiled and his friend snickered in my direction.

Without thinking, my free hand formed a fist and I swung it as hard as I could into the Zabrak's face. He staggered back, letting me go and holding his nose as blood began to seep from his nostrils.

"You bitch. You'll pay for that," he said, swinging the viroblade in my direction. I lifted my arms up in defense, the knife ripping my sleeve and searing into my skin.     

All of a sudden, a warning blaster bolt chimed from behind. Din stood, pointing his gun at the two aliens. "Leave her alone," he said. They scurried back off into the bar, muttering under their breath, cursing at the furious Mandalorian. 

I rubbed my knuckles, bruises already forming, and the deep cut on my forearm stung.

"Good punch," Din said to me. "Unrest really does seem to find you."

I huffed a small laugh in response. "Thanks. Not that it did me any good."

Din held my arm to examine my abrasion. "Let's get you back to the Crest and patched up. Can't have a one armed mechanic now, can we?"

"You... you want me to come back?" I stuttered.

"Only if you want to," he responded. I nodded ferociously and smiled at him as he guided me away, his hand resting on the small of my back. Before we went into the Crest, Din turned to me. "I'm sorry for what I said. And you're right. You do mean something. Not just as a mechanic, but as a friend. I care about you. I'm just not quite used to that feeling yet, but I'll work on it. You have my word."

"I'm sorry, too," I said. "I'll try and cool it with the questions. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"That's ok. It's part of your charm," Din countered. "But, if you do get mad at me again, try not to run off. It's a dangerous galaxy out there." He sat me down on my bed while he went to get the medkit.