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rayna-djarin-of-mandalore · 1 year

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Chapter 2 Remember My Name

Din Djarin X OFC

The winds howled a deathly growl.

Sand blasted from every directed, causing her vision to blur in the sweltering sun.

The deadly suns of Tatooine reflected a dark almost crimson like sunray from her armor.

She could feel the pools of sweat lapping underneath her flight suit, as each breath she took became a task.

Her throat felt raw, she could taste the sands of the desert grinding into her teeth each time she took a sip of water from her skins.

She hated Tatooine, the damn planet was covered in nothing but sand and more sand, and she felt sand in places she never wanted to feel sand.

Damn, she really needed a shower.

But most importantly she really missed the comfort of her ship.

She hated the heat and hated the sand.

But she had a job.

And she was never one to turn away from killing those who did wrong.

With a heavy sigh, the Hunter readjusted her thigh holster, gripping her blaster a little tighter.

But the Hunter didn’t budge.

Wiping a sweaty palm across her brow, she refocused her attention across the Dune Sands that laid before her.

Her target was close.

The informant had been clear on the whereabouts of recent raiders attacks that left villages and townspeople with little to nothing but the clothes on their back.

The Hunter was ready to kill.

Pulling the black cowl from around her neck over her face as the gust of wind grew harsher; pulling sand and dirt into the sky and made her way deeper into the desert.

“Welcome traveler!” The Cantina owner, an older gentlemen stood inside the bar, cleaning a glass as the Hunter made her way in.

The Cantina was small, mostly empty, save for a few; the informant had told her the raiders took over the Cantina, the owner was at a gun point most nights.

The Hunter took notice of the owner’s stance; he was stiff in the shoulders, tense, his eyes were wide with fear, but his smile did not reach; forced.

He was a hostage in his own home.

Most of the patrons in the Cantina had taken interest in The Hunter; once loud spoken conversations were now whispers as their eyes lingered on her beautiful form.

She made her way to the counter, pulling the cowl from her face brushing strays of dark crimson hair from her eyes.

She smiled brightly at the owner, “Hi handsome, I was just passing through. Could I bother you for a drink of some water? My speeder is broken down some ways back and it’s going to be awhile before someone can come pick me up?”

“Sure dear,” he poured a glass of cold water, handing her the glass.

“Thank you,” she took a long refreshing drink, eyeing the bar owner.

The water felt cool to the touch, as if she could just dive right in.

She felt the creeping presence lingering in the back of her mind before he even stood.

“What’s a pretty girl like you, doing out here all by yourself?” A voice spoke out from behind her.

She didn’t respond.

She took another long gulp.

The Bar Owner was growing frantic; she could see his eyes growing wide as the sound of chairs scrapping across wood echoed.

“Look Miss, you need to leave,” The Bar Owner pleaded, fearful for the young woman.

“Oh no she doesn’t,” the same voice answered, growing closer, “You see, it’s been so long since we have seen such a beauty like this, I think we might just keep her here for ourselves, and teach her a lesson.”

She finished the glass, “Could you refill this for me handsome? This will only take a moment.”

She turned around eyeing the group of men, leaning against the counter.

“So, what’s this I hear you’re going to teach me a lesson?” She pushed herself off the counter.

“You- “

His words were cut short as she withdrew her blasters from their holsters. The sounds of gunfire echoed loud inside the Cantina; the screams of The Raiders rang heavily on deaf ears as each one fell.

Minutes passed in agonizing silence as she surveyed the damaged.

Most of the Raiders didn’t have a chance to reach for their weapon, and most of the damage she could pay for.

“Please don’t kill me,” a whimper whispered in the mist of bodies.

“Seems I missed one,” she walked over the bleeding bodies, eyeing the man with the mouth from before. She recalled words from her Informants that he was a murderer, a rapist, a lowlife who stole from those who worked for their livings.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you? Tell me why I shouldn’t enjoy listening to you chock on your own blood?” Her blaster was raised, pointed at his head, the smell of blood and iron was heavy around her.

The thrill of the kill.

“Because you’re a Bounty Hunter! You don’t have a puck for me! I made sure to pay off the hunters who had a puck, no one will come looking for me! So why even bother when you won’t get a credit for me?”

She eyed the Raider; feeling the weight of his words seem meaningless to her, she didn’t care who or what they were, she didn’t care what species they were, or how many credits filled her pouch, all she wanted was justice for the lives of those he took.

“But you don’t have anything on me! You think you’ll get far little girl? I’ve got men everywhere, who will tear you to pieces!” He tried to defend himself.

The woman laughed; a deep belly laughed.

The Raider thought she had gone crazy, moving slightly to relive some pressure from the open wound bleeding freely from his belly, only for more blood to pool beneath him.

“You have no idea, do you? Do you honestly think, I’m a Bounty Hunter… Oh no, you see I’m something far worse… I’m the one people look for to take out the trash… To kill the monsters that lurk beneath beds.” She smiled, wide; her teeth gleaming from ear to ear.

Each word dripped with malice.

Poison laced.

“You are a murderer! You rape, murder, steal, and live off those who fight to survive… And you think you have a right to live? Have you ever heard of the stories of The Ice Queen?”

The Raider went silent.

“A Pirate Captain turned slave who killed her owner; who flies across the galaxy seeking vengeance for the wrong done to her? During her time, she kills those who have done wrong to others.”

“You can’t be her? The Stories said she was killed.” He backed away slowly, flinching as the wound opened more, slipping on the blood pooling deep on the floor.

She stepped forward, putting her blaster back; withdrawing her viroblade, it shimmered brightly in the cantina light, “How rude of me,” she kneeled in the pool of blood, eyeing the dying man as a look of pure chaos filled her two different colored eyes, “Where are my manners? You see in those stories, they call me Ghost, I was once the fearless Pirate Queen who sailed across the galaxy killing scumbags like you… and now it’s time for my payment.”

“Your payment?” He coughed up a blob of blood, struggling to breathe.

“Your death.”

Ghost wiped the blood on her cape.

“What a mess,” she huffed.

Turning towards the Cantina owner, she was met with a stunned silence.

“Sorry about the mess,” she reached into her bag strapped across her body, tossing several credits on the counter, “This should cover the damage, right?”

The owner looked down at the credits, with his mouth dropped open, Ghost got to work dragging the dead bodies outside burning them in a dug-out pit.

“Who are you?” The owner stepped outside the Cantina as Ghost finished setting the bodies ablaze.

Ghost turned to the old man, giving him a sad smile, she began walking towards the way she started, “No one, I’m just a simple traveler.”

Nevarro

She stood there.

Eyeing the entrance from a distance, as she spotted the Stormtroopers guarding Nevarro City.

Odd.

What happened in all those years? Ghost knew she couldn’t simply walk up to them and through the streets. She had become a wanted criminal against The Empire, a target; a pirate seeking out prey. Not that it truly mattered anymore anyways. She just hoped in the years since the accident, that the Covert still managed to survive.

Racing back to the small ship she landed just outside the city limits; she gathered a change of clothes and weapons. She would wait till nightfall. Stealth had always been on her side. Ghost was slim, wiry, and flexible. She moved with grace and ease through the shadows undetected by the remaining guard Stormtroopers, as if she never existed. She entered the long since abandoned tunnels that had once been filled with her fellow Mandalorians and foundlings, the air was thick with a musty stale smell of old water and in the distance, she could smell the lava rivers fumes flowing deep into the channels of darkness. It was as if they up and left.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, she didn’t like this. Though, she had lived in recent years in silence… She craved the voice of another, the sound of children’s laughter… The weapons of her Creed being forged; anything. She moved through the tunnels out of memory, her hands grazing over stone walls, keeping count of each step she took, having traveled these halls hundreds of times. With him… She shook her head of the memory, the lingering taste of it haunting her for years.

But this was no time to dwell in sorrow… She needed to find people who had seen him, she needed answers. As she moved deeper into the tunnels, the darkness began to fill her vision and she suddenly missed her helmet more than anything; a source of light would be nice right about now.

“Whoever lingers in the shadows,” a voice called out into the darkness.

She knew that voice. Stopping in her tracks, she could feel her heart beating in her chest, her blood was on fire, and suddenly she felt so exposed. The Armorer was their Leader, a person they followed in every sense; a guardian in their darkest of times, a guide for each foundling to follow into the Creed.

But many years had passed since Ghost had stepped foot inside these walls. And she was a different person now. And her armor; maker her lifeline, her connection to her religion. Her armor was on her ship off world for safe keeping.

And her helmet…the one thing she had been sworn to never take off in front of another; was taken off by force after she was betrayed.

After she was left for dead. People had seen her face. For her to wear her armor again she would have had to kill those people.

But those people who had found her after she had escaped the clutches of death were women and children. And though her hands were dripping in blood. She would never raise a blaster to a child. So, she kept her armor off.

“If you wish for death, come closer…” The voice went on, as a soft crimson light danced in the faint distance.

“I am not an enemy,” Ghost spoke, “It’s me,” she walked further down the tunnel until the crimson light became a bright guide. She stepped into the room, coming face to face with the golden armored Mandalorian.

“How is this possible?”

The Armorer sat across from her.

“I was betrayed,” Ghost looked down at her hands, tugging on the sleeve of her duster, scratching at the indention mark on her left finger.

“Who betrayed you? Tell me everything, start from the beginning, so that I can understand what happened… These past few years have not kind to you, I can see memories of years past haunt you...”

“I was sent out on a hunt with members of the guild, and as well as one of our own… Gray had requested to join us. I knew how much he wanted to be a Hunter like…”

“Your Riduur and yourself,” she whispered. Ghost sighed nodding slightly, taking a sharp breath, she willed herself to remain calm… There was so much at stake, she needed to find him… She couldn’t break.

Not yet.

“What happened?”

“We were sent out to Nal Hutta for a Bounty, when we arrived, we were surrounded by members of a group of Raiders, they call themselves Adenn A’den. The leader of their group claimed to be a former Mandalorian, though I’m not for certain if I believe him or not, but he was bloodthirsty and vengeful. Apparently Gray and other members of the Guild had been sending him messages, and sold me out… They wanted my beskar, they wanted my weapons and access to my ship; I spent over a year living in a cage… I watched as they burned down villages, raping, killing and slaughtering men, women, and children… It wasn’t until his second in command made a grave mistake, that he let me out of my cage and told me I was to prove my worth… So, I killed in his name in order to survive… I was his second in command for the better part of a year before I finally found his weakness and waited for him to let his guard down… There was a group of mercenaries he was working with, who had brought in a group of girls. They were beaten, broken and when I watched as the scumbag tried to force himself onto a young woman, I couldn’t take it anymore… So, I killed every single bastard that dared to enter those chambers…” She told her story to The Armorer, as much as she could remember.

The bodies she left in her wake of monsters and madness.

How the story that built around her went from a soft whisper to a loud roar.

How she became known as The Pirate Captain Ghost.

The Armorer was silent as she listened to each, and every word Ghost said. “I had heard whispers of a rouge Pirate who flew through the galaxy leaving destruction in her wake, never once seeking coin from the misfortunate… Your payment was justice, and you laid waste the vial that walk this galaxy.”

“I do not claim that my actions were always just. When I was finally able to escape, and had made a name for myself, I never truly realized just how far from home I truly was… I didn’t even know where I was, no one I had crossed had even heard of Mandalorians, or even Nevarro… So, I traveled, and did what I could to survive, but every single day I tried to get word out to the Covert… to him, and prayed that by some chance, I may see him again, and when I finally found myself back within familiar territory… I had created such a name for myself and these stories about myself were so unjust and filled with such fantasies, I had to lay low, I couldn’t bring that kind of trouble to him… so when I arrived on Nevarro just a few years ago and he was right there, I ran…like a fucking coward, I couldn’t even face my own husband…”

The Golden Armored Mandalorian sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her words weigh heavily between them, “By Creed I have seen your face… By Creed, you should kill me…”

Ghost shook her head, “I just want to find my husband…”

“But I swore an oath to them, to keep you safe…” her voice was barely a whisper, as if she hadn’t heard Ghost.

Ghost gave The Armorer a look, but she went on; she had lingered too long, she had put herself and The Armorer in danger by being here. “I know I have no right to be here, by right I am no longer a Mandalorian. I have tried reaching out to him, but I can’t find him, and I fear the worst… People have seen my face, but those people were women and child, and they were what saved my life, I do not regret putting down my armor, but now I am asking for your help… please.”

“I understand.”

“You…” Her heart clenched as she watched the Armorer gather materials, bringing them towards the blue flame.

“I will craft you an armor that shall protect you in the days to come… Though by Creed you are no longer a Mandalorian, this was not your doing…”

“Thank you.”

“While I build your armor, replenish your supplies… There is trouble in the path ahead, it will not be an easy task, so take what you can and do not falter.”

“What happened here?” Ghost filled her bag with ammunition.

“Din Djarin happened.”

#din djarin #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin x ofc #the mandalorian x ofc #mando x oc #mando fanfiction

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rayna-djarin-of-mandalore · 1 year

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Chapter 1 Before The Storm

Before she could open her eyes, she knew she hurt all over.

The aches and pains had settled deep into her bones, rattling around her frame with each deep breath she took.

Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, she opened her eyes, holding back the bitter cries as she tried to sit up.

The dark visor of her mask tinted the scorching sun, as she took in her surroundings.

The Bounty she had been after; she had heard rumors about him from the local town; he was human, old… had put up more of a fight than she had thought.

The bastard was tough, she gave him credit where it was due; but as she scanned the sands, she spotted him. The mangled, bloody body of the bounty lay a few hundred feet away from her.

But another body lay just beyond his, and he had met a fate worse than death. Rey, a fellow Bounty Hunter, had been caught in the crosshairs of the blaster fire, dumbfounded and without protection. He always was too slow on his draw.

His neck had been sliced open drained nearly of all his blood as it splattered across layers of sand before she could even get to him.

The heat of the sand began to slowly sink into her flight suit, burning her pale skin.

It was becoming un-fucking-bearable.

“Shit,” licking parched lips, she stood on wobbly legs dusting the sand from her battered clothes.

The Bounty was at least three times her size in weight and height; the scent of iron still painted in the faint distance as she spotted the still oozing wound seeping from his chest.

Dammed bastard was going to bleed from here to her ship.

She sighed, cursing the Maker for ruining her day.

Coming to terms with her fate, she discharged her grappling hook wrapping it tightly around his ankles.

If anything, she could drag the fucker, like a ragdoll.

Grabbing the beeping tracking fob from Rey’s pocket, she slid it into her jacket and began the hike back to her ship.

Four fucking hours. What had been nothing more than a brisk fifteen-minute hike through the sands; now had turned into four fucking hours of blistering hell on The Maker’s Ball Sack.

Coming over the crest of the hill, she caught sight of the reflection from her ship, as the dying suns of Tatooine were slowly turning into nightfall of sweat and stillness.

“Home sweet bloody home… Wouldn’t you say, dear?” She eyed the corpse of her latest kill.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” She moved on, adjusting the strap to her shoulder, “Don’t worry, I could probably talk enough for the both of us, not that it will do me much good anyways, probably just means I’m going crazy…” Tapping her armguard, she entered the code unlocking her ship and watching as the hatch opened.

Tossing the bounty into the carbonite, she closed the hatch and made her way up to the cockpit, she took a seat in the pilot’s chair, letting out a heavy sigh, as the tension of the day drain deep into her bones… turning her attention to the control switch, she contemplated… her hands hovered over the map, her eyes straining heavily, hand twitching with anticipation.

She knew the coordinates like the back of her hand. But fuck she didn’t know if she could face him. So many years had passed since she had last seen her husband… Word had traveled quickly that she had been killed during a hunt for a Bounty.

Funny, how life likes to kick you when you’re life seems to finally be going right. Her hands twitched into a nagging cramp, the leather of her gloves crinkling with how tightly worn her hands clenched. Her breathing felt unsteady; her heart was beating like a drum of war – it echoed so loud, it started ringing. She wasn’t ready for this. Even if she had escaped by some miracle, she was a different person now.

She was drowning in blood; nightmares of those she had killed before she ran still haunted her after so many years of trying to justify her wrongful doings.

“What the fuck am I doing?” her lips trembled with wet tears. Taking off her helmet, she ran unsteady, battled worn fingers through, greased filled crimson locks.

She couldn’t calm her mind.

“Shit!”

She screamed a vicious cry, slamming her hands down on the control panel.

“I need to talk to Greef Karga,” She walked into The Bounty Hunter’s Guild’s Cantina, eyeing the human and Twi’lek Hunter.

They eyed her with curious eyes but didn’t think anything of her, pointing to the far end table. She already knew where he would be; old habits die hard, and he never gave up his spot. She just needed to play her cards right.

She needed to drop off the bounty and get the hell out of here, to hell with the credits, she had enough credits from, her days running through space as from another life.

“And just who are you beautiful?” Karga wasn’t one to shy away from flirting, it wasn’t often a stranger who walked into the Guild’s Cantina.

“Name’s May,” she tossed the tracking fob down, “Bounty’s outside.” Karga sat forward, eyeing the tracking fob, “I don’t recall giving you this bounty, and I know every one of my bounty hunters. I gave this tracking fob to Rey; you want to tell me what happened?”

She sighed, “He’s dead, and your bounty killed him. I put him down before he started killing the town.”

“Nice work Little Lady, I’ll have my men collect… Rey always was a son of a bitch, was always too cocky for this line of work, how about I offer you his job instead and the credits are yours?”

“I don’t want the job, and I want you to give the credits to a Bounty Hunter by the name of Mando.”

“You know Mando?” She shrugged, turning to walk away, “Tell him, they’re from an old friend.”

“I didn’t realize Mando had old friends.”

“Thanks for your time, I better be going.”

“Mando!” Karga greeted The Mandalorian, “Seems you’ve been busy.”

Mando tossed, several Bounty tracking fobs down on the table, “What else have you got?”

Karga nodded to his men to unload the cargo of Bounties.

“Before I show you, your next job. I have a little gift for you,” he slid a bag of 100,000 credits towards The Mandalorian.

“What’s this for?” Mando seemed confused. “There was a girl who came in here the other day, she took down Rey’s Bounty.”

Mando was silent for a moment… “The outlaw Vain?”

Karga nodded, “He took out Rey, but she was able to kill him… I offered her the position and his credits, but she didn’t want neither, said to give you the credits specifically… said it was from an old friend and then left.”

“Did she give a name?” Mando seemed intrigued, who just gives up 100,000 credits?

“She said her name was May, a pretty little thing from what I could tell… But I was only able to see her eyes… But look it’s probably nothing, probably just some girl you helped save, don’t overthink it too much, enjoy yourself a bit, and now are you ready for your next job?”

Mando felt a tension creep up from the base of his spine, rolling like a heat wave as he stared at the pouch of credits.

“Yes.”

In the distance she watched him, in the shadows where most did not walk; where she could admire her beloved from afar and freely cry years’ worth of broken promises.

She had lingered far too long for her liking in a town she couldn’t call home anymore.

But she had to see him.

Even if he didn’t know it.

She had to know; he was safe.

Even if lingering where the bounty was high on her; she was willing to risk it all, she would die happily knowing she got to see him one last time. The small voice in the back of her mind wouldn’t shut up, until she saw him.

He walked with purpose, with a tension on his shoulders that carried from years of years of Bounty Hunting; his right shoulder an injury she knew cursed him from time to time. He protected that side more than anything. That’s why she always guarded his left.

But it was that flicker of dancing movements that caught her eye; something so small to an untrained eye that it seemed like a gust of wind to most. But she knew better.

Someone was watching her.

Someone was watching him.

Her eyes grew wide with a fear that could cripple the galaxy; her hand reaching for her blaster, trembling.

She was willing to risk exposure for his safety.

Mando moved through the streets, paying vendors as he gathered supplies for his next hunt. Why hasn’t he noticed them? She didn’t want to cause a scene, but the shadows began to move closer; looming in the darkness of each vendors shaded area.

Yet Mando did not sway from his resupply.

“Shit,” she bit down on her lip, drawing blood to the surface. Jumping from her hiding spot, blaster drawn and at the ready she raced back into the streets, adrenaline pumping into her muscles to get to him in time.

“Mando!”

She screamed into the streets, drawing her weapon, as the shadows emerged from behind stone walls.

The Mandalorian turned at the sound of the chaos, as people screamed running from the masked woman whose blaster was pointed at the Bounty Hunter. Drawing his own blaster, Mando was ready to defend himself against the unknown assailant. But when she fired, she did not hit beskar. A grunt drew Mando away from her, as he watched a dark cloaked figure dropped at his feet. Turning back to his now savior, he watched as the masked figure retreated running at a high speed.

He gave chase.

“Wait!”

He tried to call out, but it was no use, the distance only grew between them. Mando stopped, catching his breath. That’s when he spotted it.

A shimmer of silver buried in the sand, discarded with haste… Or broken off in a chase.

He picked up the silver, dusting off the sand, revealing a beautifully crafted set of wedding bands, the rings were rough around the edges, worn and battered from years of wear and tear; the smooth and nicked craftsmanship from the unsteady hands of a nervous Mandalorian who crafted these rings with all the love in the Galaxy. The details had vanished, the engraved lettering so far gone, he could barely make out the words symbolizing his love for the woman who captured his heart all those years ago.

There was no mistaking it.

He could spot these rings out of a thousand of the most precious gems.

He looked, watching as the shadow of his savior became nothing more than a speck of sand blowing in the wind.

Was this the Maker’s way of laughing at Mando for the loss he could never replace; or did the Maker have something far worse in store for him?

#din djarin x ofc #din djarin #the mandalorian #mando x oc

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