𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓹𝓲𝓽𝔂 • din djarin

chapter 1: the bounty

chapter 1: the bounty —

This is supposed to be your job.

All it takes are the turning heads of those around you to realize who's just entered the cantina. You curse under your breath and tighten your grip on the drink you haven't even started nursing. Each sound of his spur is a scrape of a knife against your patience, wearing it down more and more until your knuckles are turning white around the cup. You force yourself to take a deep breath and relax your arm, refusing to show him how his presence has affected you—unlike the others who sit in this cantina.

But then the glimmer of light reflecting off the beskar of his helmet catches the corner of your eye and you realize he's standing right beside you.

"Mando." Your greeting is curt, unfriendly, and hopefully as sharp as the vibroblade tucked on your belt. You refuse to give him a glance, instead lifting your cup to your lips as you finally drink its strong contents. "I figure you're not here for a drink."

The Mandalorian doesn't say anything just yet. Instead, you watch his gloved fingers flex on the bar counter from your peripherals, as if his every movement is calculated. When he speaks, the modulated voice is as low and gruff as ever, void of any emotion. "Neither are you."

You raise an eyebrow, still refusing to look over at him as you take another sip. "Are you so sure about that?" Mando doesn't answer, instead continuing to flex his hand as his helmet peers around. You let out a sigh as you hold the cup between your hands. "They're not here—at least, not yet."

"I didn't ask."

You scoff. "You wouldn't have stood next to me if you didn't want to know."

"I wouldn't have stood next to you if it wasn't the only spot along the counter that was open."

You roll your eyes, tightening your hold on the cup again as you try not to get into a petty argument with the man yet again. Too many times, he's used it to his advantage, distracting you enough to go after the bounty before you even get a chance. This quarry will be yours, no matter what he tries to pull. "You just like to throw me off."

You can see Mando's head tilt slightly to the side as a gloved hand checks something on his vambrace. "If the shoe fits."

With a snarl under your breath, you look to the tracking fob hooked on your belt, watching it beep in the same rhythm it has for the past half-hour you've already been here. You're not sure how you and Mando keep ending up with the same commissions—but you know that you're tired of only getting half of what you've been promised. You never split a reward; you fight until someone wins it all. But if you'd gotten to have all those quarries to yourself, your fortune would be doubled.

Often, you wonder what one of his kind's doing in the Bounty Hunter's Guild, rather than steaming in a dead heap on the soils of Mandalore.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the simultaneous sound of rapid beeping coming from both your tracking fobs. You look over at the Mandalorian sharply, watching as his own helmet looks down to the fob on his belt. Over your shoulder, you can see the Pantoran bounty standing by the door, having just walked in and sat down with a buddy. You and Mando share a quick glance and you narrow your eyes as you stare him down.

You wouldn't dare, your gaze warns him.

Try me, the slight tilt of his helmet taunts back at you.

And then you lunge in the direction of the bounty, only to have your waist seized by Mando's grappling hook as he pulls you back. You nearly fly into the mass of other people standing at the bar, now looking more alert as you and Mando launch into action. You push yourself off of them to see Mando pursuing the bounty, who's now jumped up and started to take off for the outside.