we were infinite - the mandalorian

t w e n t y t w o

— 2 years later —

(picks up from season 2)

MIA COULDN'T HEAR the first two calls of her name over the sharpening of her knives.

She did this often for no apparent reason. She hadn't had the need to use her knives in combat since —

"Mia!"

"I'm in here." She said.

"I said do you want to keep some of the thropis seeds." Said her mother, "I know you liked to use them as marbles."

Yeah, when she was five.

"No thanks," said Mia, "But I'll come help you harvest the rest."

"No," her mother stopped her, "You've done your work for today."

"Mom," Mia laughed, "It's not like I've got much else to do."

She walked out of the small hut, into the blazing sun of the plains of Lothal.

The villagers were busy at work, working up a sweat in the summer daze.

"You say that like I'm forcing you to be here." said her mother.

"You're not." said Mia. "I want to be here. I belong here."

Mia tied her hair back, sparing a glance at the cloudless sky.

"Then why do you always stare at the sky like it's a gateway to heaven."

Because it is.

She hadn't left the atmosphere since she'd come back.

Since she'd left him.

"Stop it," Mia shook her head, "You're sounding delusional. I'm perfectly happy here, this is my home."

But grudgingly, her mother was right.

She'd finally got the village back on track, everything was perfect, stable and happy.

But why wasn't she?

————————————

"Don't touch that." snapped Mando.

He lifted the child away from the plant and placed it back in the passenger seat.

Her seat.

He looked at the small plant on his dashboard. The one she'd left behind and the one he watered every day without fail.

Usually he wouldn't take any particular notice of it.

But today, he found himself staring at it for an annoyingly long time.

The child made a small, curious whining noise behind him.

"You would have liked her." he said softly.

Recently he'd felt lost.

On the search for others of his kind, he didn't know where to begin.

And the past two years had felt somewhat empty, even though they were full of tribulations he could have never expected.

His eyes squinted behind the mask in thought as he looked out into the vast darkness of the galaxy.

Another curious whine escaped the child.

As if it wanted to know more.

"She liked to eat," said his metallic voice, "A lot."

The child cooed.

He didn't know why he was talking about her, but yet he continued to do so.

"And she ship hasn't always been this quiet," he said "She spoke a lot more than I do."

He found himself watching the delicate leaves of the plant shake from the rumbling of the running engine.

"But she was one hell of a fighter."

The Mandalorian's heart suddenly felt heavy.

Like it did every time he spent a little too long thinking about her.

He cleared his throat, putting his focus back on his route ahead.

"But she's gone now." He said.

And no matter how many times he'd told himself that she wasn't coming back, a small part of him would always deny it.

A small part of him knew he'd see her again.

He had to.

Then a crazy thought struck him.

He needed help more than ever.

And he trusted no one more.

Even though every fibre in his body was calling him an idiot,  his impulse said he just had to go with it.

Before he could question his sanity, his fingers were already tapping in a new route path.

To Lothal.

"Here goes nothing." He said.