Armored Passion | The Mandalorian

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Panic began to flood into my already tight chest as the man clad in deteriorating green Mandalorian armor took a step towards us, properly entering the small cantina as his boots thumped against the dusty floor. 

The familiarity of the old armor instantly shot me back into a long line of old memories that I most definitely did not want to revisit. Still, my mind wasn't necessarily giving me a choice in the matter anymore. The memories that were popping back into my head were ones of having one of the greatest bounty hunters in the galaxy trail me for months at a time, attempting to snatch me up and bring me back to the Imperial officer and Sith Lord I had initially managed to escape from in my early twenties. 

There was no doubt that it had been Vader that had sent him after me all those years ago. He had always been so keen on using this particular Mandalorian bounty hunter to do his bidding when he really needed it. So, when he popped up into my post-Imperial life, I knew that the Empire was getting a little too close and they were starting to pick up on the certain things and procedures I had been going through to keep myself hidden. 

But the thing is, Darth Vader had died years ago and this bounty hunter had supposedly died from falling into a Sarlacc pit here on Tatooine. So what in the hell was going on here? It couldn't actually be him, right?

Come to think of it, the man standing in front of me was much too tall and slim to be the bounty hunter I had spent months running away from in my early twenties. If I remember correctly, the bounty hunter had actually been a little shorter and much more muscular, his body practically fitting perfectly in the set of beskar armor. Then again, he was still the only man that I knew to wear green Mandalorian armor, so who really knows at this point.

"What brings you here, stranger?"

My heart stops pounding the second a deep drawl rang out from the dented helmet's modulator. My mind seemed to stop racing in one direction, which was good, but that really only lasted for a few seconds. Within the minute, my mind had spun around and started to race in an entirely different direction. 

The voice I had just heard was nothing like the usual rough accented voice that I had paired with the green armored man. It wasn't the voice that I had been so accustomed to fear over the time of my life. 

The man in front of us was most definitely not Boba Fett. 

But if he wasn't Boba Fett, then who was he and why did he have the old bounty hunter's set of armor?

"I've been searching for you for many parsecs," Mando says, nodding his head once. 

I defensively cross my arms, letting the tips of my fingers subtly mess with the silver hilt that was resting nicely on my hip, preparing myself for the worst possible outcome. Just seeing the old armor had put me on edge, but learning that this guy wasn't actually the bounty hunter I feared set me off even more. 

"Well, now you found me. Weequay, three glasses of spotchka, please," the man says, continuing to step up to the bar. I take a small step back to maintain the space between us and I end up gently knocking into Mando's armor covered chest. I take a deep breath and then relax into him, not wanting to get any closer to the new so-called Mandalorian present in the room. "Why don't you two join me for a drink?"

He grabs the large bottle of spotchka along with three low-rimmed glasses, walking over to the round table in the middle of the cantina. I watch him as he sits down at the table, resting all of the contents out in front of him before reaching up to his helmet. My eyes widen as he slides the helmet right off, placing the hunk of metal on the table next to him. I perk my brows up and quirk my head to the side, a little shocked as to what he had just done.