Star Girl | Din Djarin

04 | thief

TAWL, OUTER RIM
One standard day after Tatooine...

She leans back against the wall, her head hitting it with a thud and holds a hand on her side. She's still bleeding, the wound is mostly cauterised but she'll still need to clean it up. It's already been a day since Reva had caught her side and each passing minute the pain grows.

Her eyes land on a vendor's stall filled with the supplies she needs. She's been watching them for a while, waiting for the right moment to go over there. But now, with the pain no longer an ache she can ignore, she can't wait any longer.

So she walks quickly, bumping a man by mistake but paying him no attention as her hand lands on the table.

'What can I get for this?'

She holds out the shiny knife she'd just taken from a stranger she passed and the man in the stall surveys it carefully. 'I have no need.' He dismisses it and continues to lay out items from inside his small box sat upon the clothed table.

'Please, you can sell it, get credits, I just need some supplies.'

The man shakes his head, 'You sell it. I have no need for a weapon. Neither should you, youngling.'

Her eyes narrow, with a subtle flick of her wrist his robe hits one of the boxes of supplies and then he's on the floor to pick them up. She only takes what she needs, a tiny tub of bacta ointment, a gauze and a few other things. All small enough to fit into her pocket of the leather jacket she had stolen from some smuggler that he'd left abandoned beside his speeder.

She turns away, and begins to walk through the crowds. It's busy today. She's not sure if this is the regular here, she's barely been here a whole standard day yet having only landed here a few hours ago.

After leaving her father on Tatooine she'd hidden away in a ship, the man and his partner hadn't noticed, they landed here to refuel and get supplies but she'd left before they even noticed she was aboard.

Her plan is to be no one here. Just a face in a crowd people will see everyday yet not be able to put a name to. People will pass her and give her a polite nod, or maybe a down turn of their lips. She doesn't care about the nature of their actions, just that they're not kind enough to learn her name.

A hand is circling the crook of her elbow suddenly, bringing her into a small alleyway and she hisses in pain as she gets pushed back against the wall of a cantina. Through the open window above her she can hear the band playing inside. She's never heard music so upbeat before, if she wasn't in agony she might've smiled.

The figure is searching her and she tries to fight him off but he stands back just as quickly holding the knife she'd taken.

'This is my blade.'

'You dropped it.' Now she gets a good look at him. Well, of what she can of him.

He's wearing green armour, the same armour she sees flashes of in her dreams since discovering the truth of her past. Mandalorian armour.

He has no protection for his left shoulder, it lays bare, as does his right shin, but his torso and head are protected by the familiar glint of beskar, worn and rusted with a terrible paint job.

'You took it, thief.' He says and shoves her back.

She hisses again, and he pulls back his bare hands to find her blood on his hand. He tries to remove her jacket but she hits his hand away.

He stares at her for a few long moments, his hands held up in the air between them. And then he's pulling off her jacket to reveal her dark tunic and the obvious gash in the clothing that leads down to her skin.