greyarea-fic

[greyarea-fic]

Grey Area

Chapter 4: Unknown Enemy (3.8k words)

Mandalorian warrior Adinla Dral was finally confident that the bounty for her m-count was gone and it was safe to stop hiding. But of course, the day she tried to leave the covert, the circumstances changed. Destiny called in the form of a small green child and his (rather handsome) warden.

Rated E for violence and smut.

Sorgan was a planet comprised of mostly lush hardwood forests. Many small bodies of water were scattered across the landscape, and only a few remote settlements existed on the entire planet. It was a beautiful, wooded haven that had somehow escaped the war untouched by the Empire.

The Razor Crest flew over at a low altitude, its shadow making the trees look like dwarfs in comparison. Although, these trees were no colossal giants like the wroshyr of Kashyyyk. The life form readout was off the charts- there was hardly an acre to be found unoccupied by any sort of creature.

Din Djarin navigated the ship to a big enough clearing to land near the largest settlement, which wasn't much to begin with. The trip through hyperspace had been silent; edging on awkward, broken only by the child’s soft babbles and snoring.

Adinla broke the silence as the ship powered down. "Well, shall we see what’s out there?" she asked as she stood and took a step towards the cockpit door, watching Din expectantly.

He stood swiftly, cape flushing out behind him, and plucked the kid from her grasp. "Go ahead, I'll be right out."

Behind her helmet, she frowned, but did not linger on it. She simply nodded and promptly obeyed, letting the door automatically slide shut as she descended back into the cargo hold. She didn’t stray far from the front of the ship, unsure of what to do. From above, she caught muffled fragments of “Stay,” and “Don’t touch that,” and after a moment Din joined her in the hold, unaccompanied by the little one.

Adinla was astounded, to say the least. “You’re just leaving him up there?”

“He’ll be fine,” Din tossed over his shoulder, striding over to the chest across from the ladder and unlocking it. The chrome doors hissed open to reveal an impressive array of neatly stocked blasters and explosives.

From both personal experience and observation, Adinla knew that juveniles were no good left unattended, period. Someone or something usually ended up damaged, and she was not about to take that risk with the kid being potentially so important. But Din just stood there silently browsing as if he’d never had such choices of weapon, a hand on his hip and a knee propped out to the side.

She tried a different tactic. “Just listen to this: You’re leaving a young child in your cockpit where he will be free to touch anything?”

He considered this for a moment, then scoffed, knowing that she was right. He turned around just in time to see the child slowly sliding down one of the ladder poles, smiling broadly at his armored friend.

The scene put Adinla at a loss for words. The past day had been one of her strangest ever thus far.

As soon as the kid met the ground, he waddled over to Din and adorably cooed up at him. Din sighed in defeat.  "Oh what the hell, come on."

-

The forest was even more beautiful from the ground. Native avians occasionally flew overhead, chirping, and the Child looked up in awe. The air was buzzing with life, from the hum of the smallest bug to the scamper of a creature over dead foliage. To be immersed in nature was very comforting. The Mandalorians had to pause every few strides to make sure the little one kept up. Eventually the trio came upon the settlement, comprised of local merchant tents, a few makeshift huts, and an open air cantina. The place was more like a trader's temporary outpost than a town, but it served its purpose, nonetheless.

All of the locals stopped and stared as the two armored warriors with a small green baby passed by. Murmurs went through the crowd as they ascended the wooden plank steps into the cantina.

From beneath a table, a Lothcat hissed an angry warning as the child toddled by just behind Din’s heels. Adinla instantly picked up the kid to avoid an accident, but not before she looked at the cat in wonder. The last time she had seen a Lothcat had been when she’d lived on Lothal ages ago. She briefly looked at the cat’s owner to see if she recognized them, but the stranger simply glared at her.

When she looked back to Din, she found him already lingering near a table, watching her. Not a word was exchanged as she sat the kid down on a chair. The Mandalorians sat on either side of him.

A waitress quickly approached them. "Greetings, travelers! Can I interest you in anything?"

"Bone broth for the little one," Din replied, gesturing to the baby even though he was suddenly busy staring down a woman in the corner. Adinla followed his line of sight and quickly understood why. She was the only one in the establishment besides them wearing armor, and her arms were thick with lean muscle. A scowl graced her shadowy face.

The waitress was ecstatic about the order. "Well, you're in luck! I took down a gringer this morning. There's plenty, can I interest either of you in a porringer of broth as well?"

"No thank you," Adinla replied politely.

Din ignored the question and instead motioned towards the burly woman. "That one over there, when did she arrive?"

The waitress faltered. "Well, I've seen her around here for the last week or so..."

He interrupted, "What's her business here?"

"Business? Oh, well there's not much business in Sorgan," she trailed off. "So, I can't say. She…"

 A small pouch of credits was promptly produced from Din’s belt and pushed towards the waitress, who got the hint and snatched the satchel.

"...But she doesn't exactly strike me as a log runner! Well thank you, sir! I'll get that broth to you as soon as possible, and I'll even throw in two flagons of spotchka just for good measure."

Adinla glanced at Din as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. "What, do you think she's got a fob on the kid? Or us?"

They looked back, and the mysterious woman was gone. He hopped up.

"Dunno. Keep an eye on him," he pointed to the kid as he hurriedly stalked out the door.

She watched him go, then looked down at the baby beside her, who looked back up with those big, glossy, black eyes. "Either he's gonna get himself hurt, or she's gonna die."

The waitress promptly came back with an incredibly small bowl of broth, and two shot glasses of a glowing blue liquid. The Child grabbed his bowl and suddenly hopped down, quickly waddling towards the door.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Adinla called. He responded by going quicker. "Come back! You can't just run off!"

The kid skittered through the door and onto the porch, Adinla hot on his heels. But suddenly, she could hear sounds of a brutal fistfight from a nearby alleyway. She paused. There was the dull thud of someone being thrown to the ground, then silence. In the moment that she’d taken to listen, the kid had suddenly slipped out of sight. That tricky bugger. She cautiously followed the source of the sounds, creeping down the steps and around the corner.

Down the alleyway between the cantina and a hut was the Child staring at Din, who was flipped on his back, and the woman flat out on her stomach, both with their blasters pointed at the other's head. But the woman was the fool, for her shot could only ricochet off the beskar she aimed it at and maim herself. The Child loudly slurped from his bowl, and both warrior’s faces panned over to the small being and the female Mandalorian looming large over him, hands twitching over her holsters.

In many cultures, including Mandalorian, a quick fistfight could be as good as a verbal greeting, but Adinla wasn’t quite sure what this was yet.

As if to answer that question, Din asked the unknown woman in an extremely casual tone, "You want some soup?”

"Sure," she replied, almost enthusiastically. Both holstered their blasters and got back on their feet. Adinla observed for a moment before relaxing, carefully tracking the black-haired woman as she sauntered past. The Mandalorians followed her from a short distance back into the cantina.

"I don't think she's here for us," Din said softly, gesturing to the tattoo on the woman's right bicep. A band of thick, vertical black lines: Republic Shocktrooper.

It didn't really matter to Adinla whether this woman was involved with the Republic or not, she had learned the hard way to be wary of everyone. But the thought that this mysterious brute could be a cohort was slightly comforting.

They followed the woman back to their table, resuming their former seats. The Shocktrooper took the one vacant seat as Din pushed one of the glasses of spotchka across the table in her direction. She grabbed it, warily eyeing the Mandalorians as she cautiously took a sip. In imitation, the Child raised his bowl of broth and loudly slurped from it, giggling. She simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“So, you were in the Rebellion too?” Adinla finally asked. She had been waiting for Din to say something, since he’d been the one to start this encounter. But he just sat there silently brooding.

The woman stared into the swirling blue liquor, considering how much to say. "I saw most of my action mopping up after Endor. Mostly ex-Imperial warlords. They wanted it fast and quiet. They'd send us in on the drop ships. No support, just us. Then when the Imps were gone, the politics started. We became peacekeepers- protecting delegates, suppressing riots.” She looked up at the pair. “Not what I signed up for."

"I can appreciate that,” Adinla replied, earning a confused glance from Din.

“You were in the Rebellion?” He asked her. “I thought the Mandalorians stayed out of the war.”

Adinla sighed. Keeping to herself made it easy to forget that the tribe she’d been living with chose to omit parts of history in their teachings. “You’d be surprised,” she replied dismissively. Quick to change the subject from her past service, she asked the dark haired woman, “So, how did you end up here?”

The woman averted her eyes with remorse. "Let’s just call it an early retirement." The air remained tense despite the small talk. "Look, I knew you two were guild,” she admitted. “I figured you guys had a fob on me. That's why I came at you so hard."

"Yeah, that's what we figured, too,” Din said.

The woman glanced between the two helmets and suddenly stood. "Well, this has been a real treat, seeing two Mandalorians at once," she said, smirking. "But unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first." The mysterious drop soldier sauntered away, abruptly ending the conversation on a sour note.

Din leaned on the table with a heavy sigh, looking down at the kid. "Well, looks like this planet is taken."

Adinla thought for a moment. Din choosing a backwater planet that hardly even had plumbing could work to her advantage. Not that she really wanted to stay with him, but the situation would allow her more time to assess his foundling. "You know, if we are going to stay under the radar of the Imps and hunters that they'll inevitably send after the three of us, I don't think we’ll find a more remote planet with so many places to hide."

“We?” he echoed, as if it were an absurd thing for her to say.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Thanks to your hasty exit, I’m stuck with you for now. I didn’t see any ships here besides yours, did you?”

He went silent for a moment before repeating firmly, "This planet is taken.”

She sighed in defeat. "Okay. Well, what do you propose to do next?"

He looked at her for a moment, taking in the situation. "We’ll camp here tonight. I have to do some repairs, then eventually I can find you somewhere with a spaceport."

Din was normally one to work alone. He preferred the solitude. His last few experiences with business partners were… less than savory, to say the least- but they had not been Mandalorian. He had accepted the fact that his rash actions had left this woman stuck with him for the moment. As uncomfortable as it made him to consider sharing his space with a stranger, she was from his tribe. It was more than likely that she was not as unpleasant as others that he’d traveled with, but that didn’t mean he was looking to keep her around for longer than necessary. Although for a moment, he let himself admit that she was not unpleasant to look at.

-/-/-/-

It had gotten late, and the forest was even more alive, if possible. The two Mandalorians were outside the Razor Crest, working on the landing gear. Dumb flying bugs were flocking around the lights, and nocturns hooted as they observed the big metal beast that invaded their land. 

"Can you grab a bigger wrench?" Din asked, struggling with a loose panel. "Should be one hanging above the workbench."

"Of course." Adinla walked up the ramp, immediately spotting and grabbing said wrench. She turned around and to her surprise, saw two human males approaching from the darkness of the woods. They didn't look like much of a threat, but one could never be too careful.

"Excuse me," one said, boldly walking up behind Din, who had most of his torso inside the gear cavity. Surprisingly, he didn't react in any way and just continued on with his repairs, plainly ignoring the people standing awkwardly behind him.

Adinla slipped out of the shadows to stand in the doorframe, and the pair of men startled at her sudden, intimidating presence.

"Excuse me, sir?" the hat wearing one said.

"There something I can help you with?" Din asked, his tone clearly annoyed, ducking beneath the landing gear to reach up for the wrench that Adinla was holding.

The two flustered men followed him to the other side. "Uh, yeah. Raiders."

She handed him the wrench, and he returned back to his previous position, crammed half within the inner workings of the ship.

"We have money," one of the men nervously offered.

"So, you think I'm some kinda mercenary?" Din asked dubiously.

"You are Mandalorians, right?" the older man said, nervously looking between the two.

"Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor,” the one with the hat added. "That is Mandalorian armor, right?"

"It is," Adinla said, boldly jumping the short distance off the ramp to the ground and stepping towards the men. They both skittered back in fear.

"See? I told you!" the hat wearing man exclaimed, looking to the older man, and they bumbled behind Din as he once again moved to the other side of the gear. "Hey, I've read a lot about your people- er… tribe. If half of what I read is true-"

"We have money," the older one cut in again, as if saying that would spare them.

Din finally stepped away from the ship and stood up to his full height, easily towering over both men. Their eyes widened with fear. "How much?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Everything we have, sir. Our whole harvest was stolen," the one with the hat said.

"Krill. We're krill farmers," his partner explained.

"We brew spotchka. Our whole village chipped in," he said as he held out a small pouch to Din, then panned it over for Adinla to see as well.

Din quickly considered their offering. There couldn't have been more than a few hundred credits or so in the small, worn-out bag. It wouldn't come close to covering just blaster cartridges.

"It's not enough," he said, walking away to examine a different part of the ship’s underbelly.

"Are you sure? You don't even know what the job is!" the hat wearing man exclaimed.

"I know it's not enough,” Din insisted. “Good luck."

“If you want premium service, you pay a premium fee,” Adinla chimed in. The farmers simply gawked at her remark, jaws dropped. So, she vaguely gestured to herself. “None of my equipment is cheap. Same goes for him.”

"But this is everything we have! We'll give you more after the next harvest," the older one tried again.

Din pointed at a specific spot on one of the gears and nodded at Adinla, who reached up and pressed a button just inside the doorframe that made the hydraulics suddenly let out air pressure with a loud hiss. The farmers spooked backwards as the pair of warriors made their way back up the ramp.

The men hung their heads in defeat.

"Come on, let's head back."

"Took us the whole day to get here… Now we have to ride back, with no protection… to the middle of nowhere."

Suddenly, Adinla had an epiphany. "Where do you live?" she asked.

They turned around. "On a farm. Weren't you listening? We're farmers."

"In the middle of nowhere?" she prodded further.

"Yes?" they replied with frowns.

"So… you have lodging?" she asked.

The younger man seemed to catch her drift. "Yeah, absolutely!"

She looked at Din, cocking her helmet as if raising her eyebrows in question. He looked at her, then back at the farmers, suddenly understanding what she was getting at. This was their golden opportunity to have a secure and remote hideaway, only in exchange for the measly task of running off some raiders.

“Come up here and help, then,” Din said to the two men, who excitedly trotted up the gangway.

The Child silently observed from under a blanket as the four adults piled crate after crate onto the farmer's old hovercart. The repulsorlifts groaned under the burden but never gave out.

"I'm gonna need one more thing. Give me those credits," Din demanded, holding out his hand. The older farmer reluctantly placed the pouch in his palm with a wistful look. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" the hat-wearing farmer asked.

"To get us some help. I'll only be a few minutes," Din tossed over his shoulder as he stalked off into the forest.

They continued piling crates, and soon he returned with the ex-shock trooper, who finally introduced herself as Cara Dune. He'd convinced Cara to come with them to the remote farm. She had also only agreed because of the safe lodging, but Adinla suspected the now missing bag of credits had something to do with it.

By the time the unlikely crew began their long voyage through the forest, it was past midway through the night. The farmers were curled up asleep on their seats at the front of the hovercart next to the droid chauffeur. And despite her best efforts, Adinla began nodding off.

Cara noticed. Offering to keep watch, she encouraged the Mandalorians to get some rest. She didn’t know how long of a journey they’d taken to get to Sorgan, and she felt much more awake than the shrouded pair looked.

Adinla gratefully started to drift off. She was attempting to stay upright, leaning against one of Din’s many crates. He was reclined comfortably against some of the farmer’s feed sacks just adjacent to the crate. Unbeknownst to Adinla, her body slowly began drifting more and more to the left as she fell asleep.

Din watched from the corner of his eye as she slowly began to slump towards him, though he didn’t move, unsure of how far she would actually lean. But his eyelids quickly became heavy as his body relaxed after the long day. He dozed off- right as Adinla’s helmet crashed into Din’s pauldron. The loud, musical clang of beskar against beskar woke everyone on the hovercart.

Adinla yelped in surprise and pushed herself away from him, barely resisting the urge to chuck the helmet somewhere far away to escape from the dizzying reverberation inside.

"What happened? Are we under attack?" the older farmer cried.

"No," Adinla answered, groaning in dismay.

Cara, who had watched the whole scene play out, was snickering.

"What's so funny?" the other farmer asked, slightly panicked.

Adinla decided it'd be easier to demonstrate than to say, and she tapped her gauntlets against each other. The same tone sounded again, albeit somewhat duller.

"Oh!" the farmers exclaimed together.

"Does yours do that too?" the hat wearing one asked Din, who nodded. Before long, the farmers were asleep again.

Adinla gave up trying to sleep upright and laid down.

-/-/-/-

Two women stood together on an enclosed balcony, one blonde and wearing a floor-length white nightgown, and the other a redhead, wearing traditional armor.

"So, what are you going to do?" the armored one asked.

"I really wish I didn't have the strength to do this," she said as she peered down at the bundle in her arms. "It breaks my heart, but it's for her own safety. She cannot stay with me."

"Will you tell her father?"

"No, never. He has worked so hard to get to where he is in his career, I couldn't be responsible for the rash decisions he would make if he were to know."

They were silent for a moment.

"But why do you care so much about him? I mean, you're a politician, he's a-"

The blonde one cut off the other, raw with emotion. "I know!" She sighed, then began again in a softer tone. "I know. It can't ever work out. But love… sometimes it works in strange ways."

The younger woman scoffed. "Well, I wouldn't know much about that."

"You are young, my darling sister. With time, you may."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I doubt that."

For a moment the small bundle squirmed, and both observed as she rolled over in her mother's arms.

"She is going to be raised by a close friend of mine, who will take very good care of her. My daughter will be able to grow up safe from those who wish to harm us, and those who would certainly do so if they found out about her father. Perhaps one day this threat will pass and I can allow her to come back, if she chooses so.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

The blonde woman sighed. “I’d like to think that you would have the honor to look after her from afar if something does happen to me.”

The small family stood together as the sun set over the barren landscape visible through the large and ornate window.

[greyarea-fic]

Grey Area

Chapter 3: Into The Mess (2.6k words)

Mandalorian warrior Adinla Dral was finally confident that the bounty for her m-count was gone and it was safe to stop hiding. But of course, the day she tried to leave the covert, the circumstances changed. Destiny called in the form of a small green child and his (rather handsome) warden.

Rated E for violence and smut.

~

Before Adinla stood a familiar man with eyes not dissimilar to her own. He was dressed in brown robes, hair and beard faded to grey with age. Surrounding them was an endless void seemingly made of the fabric of space itself, yet he appeared to be standing on solid ground just several paces away. She’d been here many times before, but it had been a long while since her last visit.

“Father,” Adinla called fondly, hurrying to meet him. They embraced, and he was warm and tangible under her fingertips. She breathed a sigh of relief, pressing her uncovered face into the crook of his weathered neck.

As they pulled apart, Obi-Wan lifted a callused hand and briefly caressed her cheek, a wistful smile upon his face. “You look more and more like your mother. It’s a shame you’ve been choosing to keep your face hidden.”

She grasped his hand with both of hers, sadness taking over her features. “I’m trying to stay safe, and thus far it has worked. You know what I’ve been through.”

“I know, my dear,” he confirmed, sighing. His eyes averted to the ground. “I thought this would have resolved long before now.”

Adinla looked at her father with a weary expression. “I have something I must tell you. I need your advice.”

Obi-Wan met her gaze curiously.

“I just assisted in raiding an Imperial safehold on Nevarro. They were holding a Force-sensitive child hostage, and from what I could tell, they were conducting experiments on him.”

The old Jedi stepped back, and he appeared to sit down despite being surrounded by absolute nothingness. He rested his chin on his hand in thought. This information was troubling.

“I heard his distress while meditating,” she added. “He sensed me nearby and called out for help.”

“What does this child look like?” Obi-Wan asked. From his state of consciousness in the Force, he could observe anything happening anywhere. But the galaxy was so large, and he was only one man. Things frequently slipped by him.

Adinla cocked her head to the side. “Well, now that I think about it, I’ve never seen anyone like him. I have no idea what species he is. But he’s a baby, green and wrinkly. And each ear is bigger than his oblong head.”

Obi-Wan was surprised, for he did not know of this child, but he immediately understood who he was like. “I knew a grown Jedi that matched that description, and he was the Grand Master of our Order. There was also a female of his species on the council, too.” He frowned. “I’m not saying he’s theirs, but there are very few individuals of their species, all of which are very powerful with the Force. It is imperative, then, that you keep him safe. Your skill combined with your knowledge will be key to his continued survival.”

Adinla cocked her head quizzically. “Are you suggesting I train him? I know some things, but I am nowhere near as skilled as you or other Jedi I have known.”

“You are more skilled than you know,” he reassured.  “But yes, someone with more experience may be helpful if the boy expresses interest in learning more than you can provide.”

Adinla considered this for a moment. “I’m not sure that I’ll be able to know what he needs. I’ve been disconnected for so long.”

Obi-Wan absentmindedly stroked his beard. “…Since you’ve been considering finding her anyways, Ahsoka could help. That is, if you deem assistance to be necessary.”

Before she could ask anything more, Adinla’s perception of her father became blurry. External light and sound began to filter in. Obi-Wan could sense the connection fading. “Remember what we have taught you, my daughter. You already have everything you need to know, but you must trust in the Force.”

-/-/-/-

There was an unconscious Mandalorian in his ship. This woman had aided in his escape and attempted to come to his rescue while he was under attack. She'd insisted on it, and he was grateful, but she had no reason to help. None of them did. Now the Covert was exposed, ruined, and had most definitely suffered a loss of life- and it was all his fault.

He did not regret saving the Child, although he regretted the consequences. The only thing he could do was foolishly cling to the hope that everyone had escaped safely.

The small Outer Rim town had become an active warzone and unfortunately, he was the main target. He brought the Razor Crest into orbit around Nevarro, for there had been no time to wait to leave until the woman woke up. It certainly was morally wrong to drag her outside and dump her there, unconscious and wounded. He was also certain that she would not be interested in being taken across the galaxy with a stranger and his green foundling, so he stalled departure for as long as possible.

Going back down to the cargo hold, he found the woman laying where he’d left her. She was on her side, propped up by her jetpack. A black cape was puddled behind her, reminiscent of an oil spill. She was unsettlingly motionless and silent. He rushed to her side, alarmed at her stillness. Upon kneeling down, he found her breaths to be coming slowly, just shallow enough to not be noticeable from far away. He supposed he could wait for her to come back to consciousness and drop her off wherever she wanted to go before he went on his way. There was no way that she could be out for very long.

But suddenly, the Razor Crest lurched as proximity alarms started blaring.

"Dank farrik!" he cursed.

Someone equally as tall, muscular, and covered in metal as himself would not be easy to move, but an attack was imminent and there was no choice but to move her to a safer spot. She would become even more injured from being unsecured in the hold. He hooked his arms under her torso and quickly dragged her towards the auxiliary cot just as the ship rocked again, accompanied by the deep rumble of multiple ships roaring overhead.

The loud sounds and physical touch made the woman begin to wake. 

“Me’bana-?” [What’s happening-?] she mumbled, squirming in his firm grasp.

“Just hold on,” he ordered, sitting her on the edge of the cot and gently, yet hastily pushing her into the padded nook in the wall. The Child was passed out in his own little hammock that had been fashioned for him from an old blanket. The man’s helmet lightly pressed against the kid as he put the woman down.

The Razor Crest shook violently with another explosion hitting the shields, creating a loud crash. The sound brought Adinla’s mind into a clearer state. She suddenly looked around in confusion at her new surroundings.

“What the fuck?”

The man didn’t bother responding to her as he dashed up to the cockpit. She would figure it out on her own.

Bringing the ship to life and whirling around, he saw that there were three small craft coming at him with their guns ablaze. He made an impromptu decision. They were leaving at that moment- no matter if the woman down below might’ve wished otherwise. They needed to get clear of the shitshow that the Nevarro area was becoming. She would be well reimbursed for the trouble. He quickly pressed the sublight engines as high as they could go, giving a vital surge of speed that bought him a moment to put coordinates into the navicomputer.

The sudden increase in G-force slammed Adinla into the wall of the cot. If her head hadn’t already ached, it certainly did now.

The small enemy ships dipped and twisted, swirling around the bulky Razor Crest- which was just fleet enough to evade the deadly barrage. It banked hard to the left, then pulled straight up and made a tight switchback, catching one of the mercenary craft off guard.

Two to go, hyperdrive 70% ready.

Adinla’s mind was clear enough to realize that she was in the shiny Mandalorian’s ship, and they were in a dogfight of sorts. What her hazy mind couldn’t figure out was why she was still here. Quickly surveying her surroundings, she immediately spied the ladder that the man had gone up. Between the splitting ache in her skull and the thrashing of the vehicle around her, she barely stumbled to it.

One of the mercenary craft suddenly rushed past, attempting to get ahead and attack from the front. It was not in the Mandalorian’s viewport for long. The freighter and the one remaining mercenary raced through atoms and dissipating flames.

A chime sounded from the Razor Crest’s dashboard: the hyperdrive was ready. The man did not hesitate to push the lever.

Quietness was a rather sudden change in atmosphere. No more alarms, no more hostiles, no more blaster fire. Just the smooth, entrancing calmness of hyperspace. They were safe, at least for a few hours.

The ship’s movement evening out made it a hell of a lot easier for Adinla to ascend the last few rungs of the ladder.

The man got up to go check on his passenger. Much to his surprise, the cockpit door slid open just as his thumb hovered over its control panel.

Adinla opened (what she assumed was) the cockpit door, and it flashed open to reveal the other Mandalorian standing just mere inches away. She flinched in shock at this sudden, almost intimate proximity.

He stood aghast, staring at her for a brief moment. His pristine beskar plates took on an illustrious glow of blue; a collage between the gently flashing hues of hyperspace and the carefully painted beskar donned by the woman in front of him.

She leaned to peer past the man looming in the doorway, confirming that she actually saw a hyperspace tunnel through the viewport. Her focus snapped back to him. “What is going on here?” she asked in concern.

He took a step away from her. "Look, I'm sorry. I tried to wait for you to wake up but they chased me out of there."

Adinla sighed as she shook her head in disbelief. This was not at all how she had planned the day to go. She had no idea where they were hurtling through space towards, with her ship and belongings left hundreds of lightyears behind.

“I sincerely apologize for dragging you along,” he repeated. “I can pay you for the trouble, your return trip, and anything else you may need.”

“Thank you,” she replied, gaze shifting downwards as she pressed a hand to her throbbing head.

He was genuinely surprised that she’d made it up the ladder after being knocked out cold with several hits to the head. But now as she leaned on the doorframe, he could infer that had been due to adrenaline. “There’s a medpack down in the ‘fresher. I’ll get that for you.”

Adinla watched him walk past and descend the ladder. She carefully went down after him. Once she reached the bottom, he appeared at her right shoulder with the small medic box.

“Here,” he handed her the box. “That’s the fresher.” He pointed to the room behind him, and she entered without another word.

The metal door slid closed, and after a moment she could hear the gentle taps of boots on the ladder as the man went back up to the cockpit. Although he was now up there, she still locked the door. Removing her helmet and peering in the mirror, she looked surprisingly normal for the amount of pain she was in. The damage was internal, but that didn’t mean it was any less important to take care of. The medpack was stocked with plenty of bacta pills, intended to heal anything and everything that could be hurting. The abundance either meant that the man rarely took them, or that he needed a lot on hand.

The smooth green capsule went down easy, and the headache would soon go away. She replaced her helmet and took one last look in the mirror. This was her first glimpse at the “new” paint job in action, and she smiled in satisfaction. It was a relief to be back to herself.

Exiting the refresher, she took her first real look at the cargo hold of the other Mandalorian’s ship. A weapon safe was on the wall in front of the cot that she’d been put in, and a carbon-freezing chamber sat just beyond it. There were crates scattered about, and supplies and tools hanging from the walls. She seemed to be alone down here, so the Child had to be in the cockpit as well.

She went back up to the cockpit. The door slid open, and she was once again greeted with the swirling beauty of hyperspace just beyond the large viewport. There were three seats: pilot, occupied by the man, and two empty passenger seats. The child wasn’t here? She approached the control panel from the man’s left to observe the data readouts on the screens.

Once she was close enough, she could see the kid sitting on his lap. He cooed up at her.

“So, where are we going?” Adinla asked.

Pointing to one of the navicomputer monitors, the man read the Mando’a text, translating it into Basic as he did even though they both were fluent. "Sorgan. No spaceport, low population density. A good place to regroup and get away from all the hunters. I had planned to lay low there for a while, but…" He trailed off, unsure what the plan would be once they arrived. This woman certainly wasn’t going to stay with him very long.

Adinla thought for a moment. “Well, if there’s no spaceport then I won’t be able to return to Nevarro for my ship from there. I will just have to hope that it’s in one piece when I eventually get back.”

“I’ll make sure you can get there,” the man offered. “I just… won’t be able to personally take you back for a while.”

“That’s fair,” she said defeatedly, backing up to sit down in the vacant chair off the left side of the pilot’s seat. “I doubt it’s any safer for me than you there. I might have to avoid it for a while, too.”

“Bat-du,” the child babbled as he slid off his warden’s lap, toddling over to the newcomer. He made grabby fingers to her, asking to be picked up. She obliged, happy for the distraction. The kid nestled himself against her torso, craning his neck back to look at her masked face with those large brown eyes.  

"My name is Adinla Dral, by the way" she offered, looking over at the man sitting across from her.

“Din Djarin,” he replied quietly as he observed how happy the kid was to sit on a complete stranger’s lap. “He seems to like you.”

Adinla leaned back in her seat, stroking the child's wrinkly green head. He cuddled closer to her, making happy little grunting noises. “Does he have a name?” she asked.

“Not that I know,” Din said.

“Have you asked him?”

“Why? He can’t speak.”

She looked at the child curiously. “What’s your name, ad’ika?” [little one]

The Child simply cocked his head and whined at her.

Adinla looked up at Din and shrugged. He watched the kid turn to look at him, then swiveled his seat back to facing the viewport. He sat up perfectly straight, staying silent for the rest of the ride in deep thought.

[greyarea-fic]

Grey Area

Chapter 2: The Secret (4k words)

Mandalorian warrior Adinla Dral was finally confident that the bounty for her m-count was gone and it was safe to stop hiding. But of course, the day she tried to leave the covert, the circumstances changed. Destiny called in the form of a small green child and his (rather handsome) warden.

Rated E for violence and smut.

"Only one Mandalorian above ground at a time, our safety is our secrecy."

Bullshit.

If there was one thing Adinla hated, it was being stuck with nothing to do. Since the last mission a few days ago was a success and she got a hefty 50k for a high-stakes target, she was stuck in the underground lair of the Mandalorian covert.

The bounty had taken one last desperate shot from the ground and hit the shin armor, so now there was a large streak of silvery beskar and burn marks parting a sea of dark blue. Most would've left it, a battle wound to advertise prowess. But Adinla had plenty of free resources at her disposal, and of course, she was going to take advantage of them before she left the covert for good.

She decided not to do just a simple patch, but a whole paint job update. To anyone who didn’t know her, it would've looked like routine maintenance. What she was doing was reinstating her “signature” paint that she’d designed around 18 years ago. Adinla went into a private room with her paint and took all her beskar’gam off.

For years now, she’d been periodically changing the paint job on her armor. It was a way to hopefully throw off those who wished to track her. But now, she was ready to stop pretending to be nobody.

Each piece was completely covered with a vivid steel blue hue. Temporarily bland leg plates were given a navy-blue trim. Unembellished chest plates became accented by three parallel lines that concurrently made 90-degree angles in the upper left and lower right corners, made from the same darker blue. These angles were reflected on the cheeks of the helmet, which were a medium shade of steel blue. The ‘face’ of the helmet around the visor became a snowy shade of light blue. A symbol reminiscent of a flying bird, in the medium blue, went above the seam where the dome connected to the rest of the helmet. The shoulder pauldrons, knee covers, and gauntlets were all solidly painted the darker accent blue.

The once unidentifiable, anonymous looking armor was now a work of art. The only thing left to do was to paint an important symbol of allegiance in the white circle she put on the left shoulder bell. For most Mandalorians, this would be the Mythosaur skull. But in thin black paint, Adinla spontaneously chose to apply two parallel lines that concurrently formed a diamond in the middle, with two solid diamonds flanking both top sides. She had almost chosen the Mythosaur, matching her tattoo that rested directly beneath that pauldron. But Adinla had worn this symbol proudly throughout the war against the Empire, and today she was feeling bold. Though here in the covert, she had to be careful. When she reapplied her armor, she tugged her rather rugged black cape over that left shoulder.

Sitting on the curb of the once busy sewer that the covert resided in, Adinla was doing some minor maintenance on her jetpack when a male Mandalorian descended the nearest stairwell. He was looking quite proud of himself, half sauntering, half strutting down the tunnel. His armor was a worn and old composite, barely hanging on by its wiring. What made him stand out was a shiny, unpainted helmet of pure beskar. Everyone watched as he went by, for he'd been gone on a top secret job for several weeks.

This was the only member of the tribe whom Adinla did not know the name of. He (much like her,) thoroughly kept to himself. As he walked past, she noticed that he held a considerably sized camtono that he was almost struggling to carry.

"Beskar?" She whispered and looked at someone who was sitting near her, a friendly young man named Soln Eyi’st. He nodded his battered orange helmet and watched the other man disappear around the corner. Soln got up and followed, as did many others.

Adinla hesitated. Nobody was watching: it was a perfect time to silently slip away into shadows, never to be seen by these people again. But curiosity got the best of her. She replaced her jetpack on her backplate and peeked around the corner of the doorway. A large sculpture of the Mythosaur skull hung overhead the curved entrance, acting as a protector to what laid inside.

The camtono was open. It carried enough pure beskar slabs to fully outfit almost two people. Not even during her youth in Sundari, where the infamous Mines of Mandalore resided, had Adinla ever seen that many pure slabs in one place.

"I must warn you: it will draw many eyes," The Armorer said to the owner of the new beskar, who was seated in front of her.

An older man, Paz Viszla, stepped forward and grabbed a piece, inspecting it. The metal shone with an impeccable luster that was broken only by faint embedded lines and curves, the only evidence that it was once liquified. In the bottom right corner was stamped a most hated symbol. He let out a short, harsh laugh.

"These were cast in Imperial smelter. These are the spoils of the great purge- the reason that we live hidden like sand rats," he spat, almost carelessly tossing the illustrious metal back onto the table.

"Our secrecy is our survival. It is our strength," the Armorer reassured as she carefully stacked the slabs into a tower, counting.

"Our strength was once in our numbers. Now we live in the shadows and only come above ground one at a time," Viszla challenged. "Our world was shattered by the Empire, with which this coward shares tables."

Rather suddenly, Paz grabbed the seated one by the helmet and they started wrestling, then resorting to vibroblades as the rest watched.

Adinla sighed. This was the sort of inexplicable infighting that had brought their society down in the first place.

The Armorer seemed to ignore their squabble as she continued stacking, but finally, she'd had enough. "The Empire is no longer, and the beskar has returned," she proclaimed, standing up.

The two had their blades at each other’s throats, locked in a stare-down.

"When one chooses to walk the Way of the Mandalore, you are both hunter and prey," The Armorer continued. "How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life?” She turned to address the mysterious man who brought the beskar. “Have you ever removed your helmet?"

"No," he answered.

"Has it ever been removed by others?"

"Never."

"This is the Way," the Armorer said.

"This is the Way," the gathered crowd replied in unison.

Adinla stayed silent.

After a moment, Paz reluctantly returned the saying. 

"What caused this damage?" the Armorer asked, addressing the heavily torn-up armor.

"A mudhorn."

"Then you have earned the mudhorn as your signet. I shall craft it."

Some people began to turn away. Armor making was a custom that they'd all witnessed and partook in. It normally took a long time to complete, but this man was having a whole new kit crafted for him. Surely, they'd be there for a few hours at the least.

"I can't accept it. It... wasn't a noble kill. I was... helped by an enemy."

Everyone was suddenly very still. One does not simply turn down their signet. It is an honor to be given one.

"Why would an enemy help you in battle?" The Armorer asked.

"It... did not know it was my enemy," the man said quietly.

The Armorer was intrigued. She cocked her head in contemplation, then after a moment replied slowly, "Since you forgo a signet... I shall use the excess to forge whistling birds."

"Whistling birds will do well," he confirmed. "Reserve some for the foundlings."

"As it should always be. The foundlings are the future. This is the Way."

"This is the Way," the crowd replied in unison.

Adinla finally turned and stalked away from the group. The man she did not know was suspicious, and her intuition told her that she needed to look deeper into his situation. Which was odd, because what he did to come into possession of so much Imperial claim beskar was none of her business. And whatever encounter he’d had involving a mudhorn and an enemy was also nothing she needed to worry about. She had her own personal quest to think about, did she really need to let something else get in the way again? But the more she thought against investigating, the more urgent the insistence to do so became.

She sighed and gave in. Intuitions such as these were not to be questioned- she had learned this the hard way.

So, up the hidden stairwell of the old sewer and out onto the streets of Nevarro she went. The crowd of civilians who milled about the bazaar parted for Adinla, sensing that she was on a mission to get somewhere. Seeing a fully armored Mandalorian stalking down the street with a blaster strapped on each hip, a sniper rifle loosely around the shoulder, and a jet pack had to be scary, or at least intimidating. Mothers held their children closer, and criminals pulled their hoods down to hurry past as she went.

At last, she reached the edge of town near the airfield where everyone parked their ships. She could see hers resting exactly where she’d left it, large wings towering above itself. It certainly stood out among the rest.

With a quick glance, she looked around to make sure the area was clear of others before using her jetpack to get to the top of one of the buildings. This one was special because it was tall and quiet. There was a secluded enclave that wasn’t visible from the street or any other rooftops, and it overlooked the shipyard. Adinla set her rifle down and sat cross-legged next to it, closing her eyes. She was about to attempt something that she hadn’t let herself properly do in years. She wasn’t even confident that she could still do it.

But of course, it all came right back to her.

Breathe in through the nose, and out the mouth.

Calm the mind.

See the light-

Feel it flowing through.

Inhale, exhale.

Soon, she began to feel like she was floating. She checked that the feeling was only internal, which it was. The discovery made her feel only slightly dejected, since she was blatantly and purposefully trying to make her skills diminish. But no matter how much she had tried to forget, the Force had never fully absolved from her. This had long frustrated her, but in that moment she became was thankful for the remaining connection.

She settled into the uplifting golden haze that cradled her psyche. And eventually, a ripple became visible. Rather, a beacon. Surprised, she realized that someone like her was nearby, just a few alleyways over.

Focus…

Suddenly, a bright and urgent cry. Whoever it was, they were in pain. They were scared and alone.

This someone could sense her and was asking for her help.

Adinla’s eyes flashed open just in time to see that curious Mandalorian walking into a ship, presumably his. Heart pounding with adrenaline, she watched his ship power up, preparing for flight. But as she drew herself to her feet, it was suddenly shutting back off, and the ramp opened again. She paused to watch the man come back out and move swiftly towards the city.

So, there was something more with him.

From upon the rooftops, Adinla followed the now extremely suspicious man, who sported shiny new armor to match his helmet. Something told her that he was probably going to the place where the cry for help had come from. The man looked over his shoulder and went down a shady lane between buildings, lined with the homeless. He came upon a dumpster, and his gaze lingered for a moment too long. Gently, he reached in and touched a discarded pram. At last, he turned and came to a door, the door of the building.

Adinla rolled her eyes as she settled into a nook to watch. Of course, he had something to do with whoever was in trouble. Why wouldn’t he?

The man knocked on the door, then ripped the security droid out of the wall before taking cover behind an adjacent corner. Two stormtroopers came out of the building, and Adinla ducked beneath the edge of the roof to avoid being spotted.

Karabast!

Adinla’s heart began pounding rapidly. The Empire had a presence on Nevarro? How could she have been so oblivious?

The other Mandalorian crept to the side of the building, where he set a charge on the wall, quickly imploding it. Immediately, the familiar Imperial klaxon alarms sounded from within, and before any more stormtroopers could come out he dashed in. Within a second, there was shooting and yelling coming from the inside.

Cautiously, Adinla peeked her head over the edge of the roof she was hiding behind. Finding it clear, she leapt off the building, jetpack softening the landing. She drew a blaster and rushed inside. The floor was littered with bodies of stormtroopers, some mutilated, others in the process of a slow and painful end. Following the trail of death, she came to a door and heard the other Mandalorian inside yelling at someone.

"What did you do to it?"

Whimpering.

"What did you do to it?" A much deeper and angrier tone this time.

A very panicked voice hurriedly responded. "I protected him, I protected him! If it wasn't for me, he would already be dead! Please!"

Slyly peeking around the corner, Adinla’s stomach did a flip as she spotted a small green baby with large ears lying unconscious on a table. The other Mandalorian was standing in front of it with his blaster pointed at an Imperial doctor huddled in the corner.

"Please, please!" the small man begged with his eyes squeezed shut, futilely trying to hide behind a canister.

The Mandalorian ignored him and moved swiftly and quietly, lifting the sleeping child, and storming out the door.

Adinla quickly flattened herself against the wall. He brushed past, curtly nodding to her out of reflex. But he abruptly stopped and did a double take as he turned around and fully registered that there was in fact another Mandalorian there with him.

"What are you doing with that child?" she calmly asked, not daring to step forward.

"If you came for its bounty, I already took it," he said, slowly backing away.

"I know," she gestured to his new armor.

Exasperated, he rushed out, "Look, they're going to kill the kid if I don't save him. I can't let that happen."

A stormtrooper came around the corner and shot at the pair. The bolt ricocheted off the man's backplate, but Adinla quickly shot down the assailant. “I’ll help you.”

"Yeah," he said dubiously, turning on his heel and hastily marching off.

Adinla jogged to catch up, ignoring his obvious attempt to leave her behind. She pulled out her second blaster, completing her pair of Westar 35s, and proceeded to flank him.

The next room was full of stormtroopers. Easily, the pair shot them all down within seconds, and they walked into another room that stored crates. A few stormtroopers came through another door.

"Split up, let's flush them out," one of the troopers ordered.

Adinla smirked under her helmet. Those plastoid boys stood no chance against her pent up anger for the Empire. The Mandalorians navigated in tandem through the dimly lit room, using the shadows to hide, swiftly and quietly eliminating the troopers one by one. It was only a moment before all the stormtroopers in the room were dead.

The man nodded his head towards the next door, and Adinla eagerly took up his flank. As they entered, she quickly noticed that the room was completely empty. No storage, no troopers. The exit laid just ahead- the path was clear. Until, of course, their luck ran out.

"Freeze!"

"Hands up!"

"Drop your weapons!"

Stormtroopers came flooding in from both behind and ahead.

“Easy!” the man quickly begged. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to put this down, slowly. What I'm carrying is very valuable."

As he kneeled, he looked at her to follow his lead. She hesitated, but something told her to trust him. They put down their blasters, but when he went to put the kid down, she saw his whistling birds ready. They indeed did whistle as the small rockets ejected from his wrist, and the Mandalorians and the little one were once again the only ones alive.

"Smart move," she complimented.

"Yeah," he mindlessly replied, carefully cradling the little one to his chest.

The two hustled from the building and into the alleyway. The man turned to blatantly walk down the main street, but Adinla rushed ahead and stopped in front of him. Countless tracking fobs had suddenly begun chiming in the distance. "Are you crazy? They'll shoot you down before you can make it anywhere!"

"I have no choice!" He motioned to his back, which unlike hers had no jetpack.

"Okay, then give me the kid. I'll secure him somewhere away from here where we can rendezvous while you sneak through the sewers to your ship.”

"What? No!"

She stopped to think for a moment. This man had no reason beside the creed to trust her with such a task. Of course, he wasn’t going to agree. "Well, whatever your plan is, I'll cover you from above."

“Why are you trying to help me?” he asked.

Adinla answered without hesitation. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He seemed to understand, quickly becoming grateful for her help.

Once she got back up to the rooftops, they were filled with bounty hunters watching the man go down the street. The tracking fobs they all held blinked and beeped so steadily when pointed at the shiny Mandalorian that they emitted an ongoing, annoying tone. She holstered her blasters and unshouldered her rifle, pretending she was also after him as to not draw any eyes. In reality, she was about to shoot down all these mercenaries where they stood.

More and more people crawled out of the shadows, each and every one of them hoping for a chance to claim the small bundle that the man was nonchalantly carrying down the street.

Greef Karga, the Bounty Hunter Guild’s local administrator stepped out and blocked the gate to the airfield. "Welcome back, Mando!” he called out with false niceties, before demanding: “Now put the package down."

The Mandalorian's hand flitted over the leather holster on his right hip. "Step aside. I'm going to my ship."

"You put the bounty down and perhaps I'll let you pass."

"The kid's coming with me," he replied confidently.

"If you truly care about the kid, then you'll put it on the speeder and we'll discuss terms," Karga demanded firmly.

The man was pigeonholed, for he was absolutely surrounded by hundreds of muzzles all trained on him. He couldn’t twitch a muscle or else he and the little one were goners.

Adinla hated these kinds of terms, where they tried to coerce you into doing something because of your feelings. If she had been the one down there holding the kid, she would've made some snarky remark about how she didn't need Karga’s validation of her emotions. Actually, if she had been the one holding the kid, she wouldn’t have walked onto suicide street in the first place. She hoped that whatever he was planning was good.

The man suddenly started shooting as he dove onto a nearby speeder. Adinla took this as her cue to begin clearing out the rooftop. Somewhere within the chaos, she noticed as the little flatbed speeder the man had hopped on began moving down the street at a good pace. Though, it wasn't long before someone got smart and shot its chauffeur droid, bringing his getaway to a quick halt. She had cleared out most of the people on the roof but had to take cover, as some of the unfriendly fire had diverged towards her. From a secluded nook in a lipped rooftop, she slid her rifle over the edge and targeted people on the street instead. But just by sheer number someone spotted her. A strong shot landed above her left eye, violently jarring her head to the side. Momentarily stunned by the ringing in her ears and the reverberation of the beskar, she slumped over, grasping her head.

The man was too preoccupied with his own problems to notice. He had grabbed his Amban phase-pulse rifle off his shoulder and began vaporizing anyone that was in range. There was a reason that this weapon had been banned by both the Empire and the New Republic; literally nothing was left of its victims but a charred smatter.

The pursuing hunters all scrambled to get out of his line of sight, as more and more people were reduced to atoms. The loud ruckus of many blasters firing suddenly silenced. In an instant, the shootout was in a stalemate. Nobody dared to fully show themselves in fear of the rifle. Smoke filled the air.

The sudden change in volume snapped Adinla back into focus, and she cautiously peered out at the street. From her vantage point, she could barely see the man hiding just below her.

"That’s one impressive weapon you've got there, Mando," Karga called out from wherever he was hiding.

A hunter was creeping up on the man from behind, who was still laying on the flatbed speeder unknowingly, clutching the kid to his chest. Adinla easily shot the hunter down, and the shootout began again. It was even more frantic and chaotic than before. At this point, most didn't even know what they were shooting at, they just hoped they would hit the right thing.

But out of nowhere, the Mandalorian Covert suddenly flew up into the sky, easily overwhelming the pursuers. Adinla looked up in awe- she had no idea where they’d come from or why. One landed beside her, it was Soln. He nodded a greeting, and together they flew up and took out the fleeing mercenaries. It’d been so long since she’d been in battle with this many Mandalorians at her side, and it felt like they were invincible.

But off in the distance, Adinla saw Karga running towards the man’s ship, which had its cargo bay ramp down. She jettisoned over to stop him. He saw her beelined approach and rushed inside.

Once she reached the ramp, the whole cargo bay was filled with vapor from the carbonite freezer and Karga was nowhere to be found. The old man had undoubtedly activated the thing to throw her off. She went to turn on the heat detecting setting in her visor when she suddenly sensed movement, but her reaction was somehow too late. The older man came from behind and slugged the back of her helmet with the barrel of his blaster. The force of his swing combined with the earlier injury and her forward crouch almost knocked her onto the ground. Despite the renewed ringing in her head, she used the flame thrower in her gauntlet to push him back, as she retreated further into the ship.

Footsteps sounded behind Adinla and as she turned to see who it was, Karga shot her in the helmet from a close range. She stumbled backwards into the shiny Mandalorian, who caught her shoulder as he shot the guild master with the rifle.

Greef Karga flew a long way backwards out of the ship, and he landed with a hard thump on the ground outside. Unfortunately, it seemed the weapon had not been on disintegration mode.

Adinla was reeling. Three shots to the head in just a few minutes was too much. If it wasn’t for the beskar, she’d be dead. But alas, her head was pounding and she was nauseous.

"Are you okay?"

She tried to look at the man, who had dropped his rifle to hold her steady, but the cargo bay began spinning and blurring around her. "You need to get out of here," she croaked before passing out. Her limp body clattered to the floor.

[greyarea-fic]

Grey Area

Chapter 1: Prologue (1.6k words)

Mandalorian warrior Adinla Dral was finally confident that the bounty for her m-count was gone and it was safe to stop hiding. But of course, the day she tried to leave the covert, the circumstances changed. Destiny called in the form of a small green child and his (rather handsome) warden.

Rated E for violence and smut.

- approximately three decades earlier -

Obi-Wan Kenobi was dragged into the throne room by two very sizeable Mandalorians. Many other fully armored Mandalorians were gathered in the long and tall room, which was fully made of glass and accented with the iron heart motif. Directly across from the double doors sat a throne, reserved for the Mand’alor. But to Kenobi’s horror, someone else was there.

Seemingly back from the dead- it was the red Zabrak Sith that Obi-Wan thought he’d killed 12 years prior.

Darth Maul lounged carelessly as if he owned the throne he sat upon, grinning smugly. A second Zabrak, Maul's brother, was posted at his right shoulder. At Maul’s left shoulder, however, knelt a tall and lean woman with blonde hair, soft blue eyes, and an angular face that bore an expression of grief and fear. She was unarmored, instead in a blue dress intended to be accompanied by regal accessories that had long since been ripped away. Duchess Satine was someone who had always stood proudly and surely- a bold ruler that the galaxy had come to know well. She had always lived up to the reputation of House Kryze, but now she kneeled with her head bowed, her brave spirit forcibly broken.

The revolting sight made Obi-Wan’s stomach flip. 

"Your noble flaw is a weakness shared by you, and your duchess," Maul addressed his nemesis as he suddenly lifted Satine by her throat through the Force. She struggled and choked mid-air, grasping for the invisible hand squeezing her oxygen away.

The scene was like a nightmare come true. Impulsively, Obi-Wan made a sudden attempt to break free and rescue Satine from the fierce hold upon her trachea, but he was held firmly in place by the rugged warriors flanking him. Their gloved fingers painfully dug into his shoulders as they shoved him back down.

"You should have chosen the dark side, Master Jedi," Maul taunted, stalking closer as the duchess choked and clawed at her throat, her floating body trailing beside him in a cruel display of skill. "Your emotions betray you."

Behind a scowl, Obi-Wan’s blue eyes nervously darted between Maul and Satine. His cheeks and ears were growing hot as he became more frustrated. This was a feeling he never let himself indulge in. Adrenaline raced through his veins, and if not for the other Mandalorians posted along the walls of the throne room, Obi-Wan was sure that he could behead the half-cyborg before him. Maybe even drive his saber through the skull for good measure, too.

"Your fear, and yes, your anger."

Obi-Wan bared his teeth. He absolutely could not let himself give in. All of his training had led up to this moment- he had to remain in control. Emotional regulation had become a subconscious act, but now he was feeling everything all at once. It was overwhelming. He suddenly realized that the explosive magnification of his emotions was due to his feelings for Satine. This was why attachment was forbidden. Shame flared beneath his cheeks.

"Let your anger deepen your hatred!" Maul bellowed.

Obi-Wan would not let this shallow-minded Sith turn him from the light, for his entire existence was devoted to serving it. There was absolutely no choice but to stay true to everything he’d pledged himself to. But for the briefest of fleeting moments, Obi-Wan found himself tempted to give in to dark impulses. For how could one not become angry at the sight of their lover suffering at the hands of their archenemy?

"Don't listen to him, Obi-" the Duchess struggled to say between gasps.

"Quiet," Maul growled at her with a deep, feral sound.

Hearing those words from Satine’s lips helped to anchor Obi-Wan. His mind calmed, and his quivering body stilled. A deep inhale, and the light once again freely flowed through him. Every moment of his training had lead up to this encounter with Maul. All at once, he quelled his fear and anger, replacing it with certainty and bravery. If one could see the Force, Obi-Wan would have been brighter than twin suns. Defiant prose easily rolled off his tongue: "You can kill me, but you will never destroy me. It takes strength to resist the dark side. Only the weak embrace it."

"It is more powerful than you know!" Maul proclaimed.

"And those who oppose it are more powerful than you'll ever be."

This enraged Maul, evoking a deep snarl.

Deep down, Obi-Wan knew that Maul was convinced that darkness was the only way, and nothing in the galaxy was ever going to change his mindset. But for the sake of Satine's life, he continued to try to reason with the Sith. "I know where you're from. I've been to your village. I know the decision to join the dark side wasn't yours. The Nightsisters made it for you."

"SILENCE!" Maul’s yell reverberated through the large room, bouncing off the glass panes and metal framing. "You think you know me? It was I who languished for years thinking of nothing but you. Nothing but this moment." He pointed at the Duchess, who was still suspended and hopelessly choking for air. "And now, the perfect tool for my vengeance is in front of us."

It suddenly clicked. Obi-Wan realized with horror why Maul had continually asked for him specifically, and why he had dragged Satine into this too. It was never about controlling the Mandalorians. It was about enacting revenge. His stomach suddenly dropped through the core of Mandalore faster than lightspeed.

"I never planned on killing you. But I will make you share my pain, Kenobi."

Satine's eyes widened in fear. Her coughs became rougher and more desperate as the chokehold on her neck was tightened. Horror seized her features as she watched her Jedi lover keel over in pain as he was suddenly kicked into the ground.

In one swift move, Maul ignited the Darksaber and brought Satine flying forward into the blade, brutally piercing it straight through her abdomen, stopping only when the cold Beskar hilt reached her skin. She reached out for Obi-Wan with a cry of inconceivable pain.

Obi-Wan could not believe his eyes. He could not bear to be made to watch her suffer any longer. With a sudden surge of power, he broke free of the Mandalorian warriors holding him down and dashed across the room. “Satine!" he cried.

The Darksaber deactivated as he ran, the shimmering black blade pulling out of Satine's gut. She limply fell to the foot of her former throne with a sickening thud. Obi-Wan skidded on his knees to a stop before her and quickly pulled her into his lap, cradling her dying body close as she struggled to breathe. He watched with despair as he felt her life began fading away.

With a cruel chuckle, Maul sauntered back to the throne and retook his seat, smirking at the sight. One of the galaxy’s most powerful Jedi was crumpled in an emotional heap on the floor, and the Mandalorian Duchess was dying by an icon of the civilization she once ruled- Both by his hand. This day was one he would remember fondly. He rested his chin on his hand and watched with a smile as if what occurred before him was nothing more than a scene from a play.

"Remember, my dear Obi-Wan..." Satine said, shakily lifting her hand to hold the Jedi’s cheek. He gently tilted his head into her grasp, eyes bleary. "I've loved you always. I always will." There were so many things left unsaid between them, but at least that was not one of them.

The image of a young daughter that Obi-Wan did not know about crossed Satine’s blackening mind. If she was going to die, Bo-Katan was going to be the only family left to keep her safe. Her last thoughts were spent wishing she had told him of their child, although she knew very well why she hadn’t. He would have left the Order for them, and most likely without a second thought to his career or his importance to the galaxy at large. She had desperately wanted her dear Ben to continue on his chosen path, unburdened by her selfish love and their child that shouldn’t have even existed. But she always imagined that there would have been more time. That perhaps eventually as they got older, he might’ve wanted to settle down and hang up the saber. That the threat to her planet and her sovereignty would pass and she could safely let little Adinla into her title and role as a Kryze princess. That maybe, just maybe, she could have the family she’d always dreamed of. She wanted to tell him all of this, but her mutilated body simply didn't have any more strength left. All she could manage was a tear streaking down her cheek as she struggled to continue to hold Obi-Wan’s gaze with her own.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the strong and careful leader, wept as he watched Satine’s soft blue eyes close. She was the only woman he’d ever let himself love. Her body relaxed, then went fully limp in his arms. He hugged her close as his mind raced through everything they’d been through together. That fated first meeting, the year spent together fleeing from the Civil War, their candid reunions, and those secret, passionate nights. Wet, hot tears freely flowed down his cheeks as he savored the last kiss he’d ever place on her hand. How he wished he weren’t so righteously noble. He was a damned fool to have not chosen her love. Now he was left to forever wonder what could’ve been.

[greyarea-fic]

Looking for a Mandalorian Jedi fic?

Look no further! I created this blog to crosspost my fic, Grey Area, from ao3 to here! It is Mando Jedi OC/Din Djarin, taking place during the events of his show. It isn't a complete retelling though, as the story's progression is affected by the new character.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Depictions of Violence

Pairing: Din Djarin/Female Mandalorian OC

Notable Tags: slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, forced proximity, mutual pining, angst, hurt/comfort, OC insert

Words: 133,497 - 35/? chapters (as of 7/21/2025)

Summary:

A few years had passed since her last run-in with Moff Gideon. Mandalorian warrior Adinla Dral was finally confident that the bounty for her m-count was gone and it was safe to stop hiding. But of course, the day she tried to leave the covert, the circumstances changed. Destiny called in the form of a small green child and his (rather handsome) warden.

She was the Jedi he was looking for. He was everything she needed. But he doesn’t know grey area in The Way like she does. It was by accident that he got caught in the carefully crafted lie that had protected her from the Empire, and he can't even tell he's tangled in it. Because of this, Adinla knew that getting involved was a bad idea. But focusing on the quest and keeping her distance from a man like him was easier said than done.

Yes, the OC is an Obi-Wan/Satine love child. But as one of my ao3 tags for this fic says, "OC is a bastard (in both the literal and metaphoric sense)" This story is ongoing, and over five years in the making. It is near and dear to my heart, as I have spent countless hours crafting Adinla's story to fit into existing Star Wars canon while being her own powerful character.

Enjoy!