Unmasked Love | The Mandalorian

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"M'um m'aloo!" Kuiil calls out to the mass of Jawas. They all look past the short ugnaught, their intense red eyes practically stabbing into Mando as venom dripped from their quick words. Kuiil grimaces and then looks up at the tall Mandalorian that already seemed tense and annoyed. "They really don't like you for some reason."

"Hmph, I wonder why," I say, rolling my eyes while crossing my arms. 

"Well, I did disintegrate a few of them," Mando mutters. I playfully scoff and shake my head, going back to listening to what the Jawas were rambling on about. 

"You need to drop your rifle," Kuiil instructs. 

"I'm a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion," Mando says, stubbornly shaking his head as Kuiil looked back at him. 

"Weapons are part of my religion," I mock in a deep voice that barely matched his modulated tone. The tall Mandalorian looked down at me and I could just tell that he was glaring at me from behind his thick metal visor. I didn't have to see his face to tell that much. I innocently smile at him, hoping that he wouldn't actually take action on his annoyed feeling like he did when he slapped me upside the head earlier on our journey. 

"Well, if you don't drop your weapon, you will not be getting your parts back," the ugnaught in front of us informs, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn't really matter to him. In all reality, it probably didn't matter to him in the slightest, but he was still trying to help us either way. It was a sweet gesture. 

"Mando, come on," I whine like a child, "I need my ship back in order." He stares at me for a few moments before slumping his shoulders in pure defeat.

"Fine," he sighs out, dropping his gloved hands down onto the rifle that was resting across his lap. He sets the long rifle down in the hovering cart we had been riding on, soon crossing his arms to show how displeased he was. 

"Blaster too," Kuiil adds, his eyes locked on me this time. I nod and throw my blaster into the cart, not caring too much about parting from it. If anything got too serious, I always had my trusty lightsaber by my side. 

"I'm not gonna trade anything. These are our parts. They stole them from us!" Mando snaps, his shoulders tensing as he snapped out his harsh words. I had learned that Mando and I had a pretty good knack for negotiating, but apparently, this was not one of those times. I honestly should be a little madder than I am at the Jawas, but seeing Mando so annoyed is a little funny. I listen as he tries his best to say something in Jawaese, but he barely managed to get the proper words out. I think he said something along the lines of 'they belong to me' in a very choppy tone.

Oh, and I just couldn't help but comment on it. 

"Your pronunciation sucks ass," I say, smirking up at him, "You sound like a Wookie."

"Like you can do any better?" he snaps back at me, irritation and frustration flowing through his aggressive tone. I smirk a little more and look up at him with a knowing look. He straightens up a bit, still staring down at me. 

"Gomjam nufuzu chikua, Mando," I say, my smirk growing as I turned to face him properly. My shoulders squared out as a sense of pride filled me. "Buja oko." He groans and looks away from me, clenching his fist tightly.

"Of course you're fluent," he growls, looking back towards the Jawas. 

"Oh come on, did you expect any less?" I ask, perking a brow at him. He huffs clearly through his modulator, making me let out a small laugh as I look back towards the Jawas. "Opawi opakwa," I say, wanting my parts back, but they ignore me. They all keep their eyes on Mando, throwing insults at him as he stood there.