Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Mythrol comes scudding around the corner of the building, casting a nervous glance behind him as he flees from what is chasing him, arms and legs flailing with a complete absence of grace. He is about to continue his forward sprint when he sees Corin sitting on a fallen tree blocking his way, Din's rifle across his lap and a bright smile on his face.

“Hi.” Corin greets him cheerfully.

The Mythrol draws a sharp breath, eyes widening with dread, then he spins around to flee back the way he'd come from, only to stare at Cara Dune.

Corin flinches when Cara's fist connects with the Mythrol's face and sends him, promptly unconscious, to the ground. Corin gets up and walks over to where she's looking down at their bounty. “I think you take too much pleasure in punching people.”

The radiant grin Cara gives him does nothing to assure Corin.

Sighing, Corin crouches down and lifts the Mythrol up with ease to drape him over his shoulder. “We could have asked him to surrender, you know?”

Cara snorts a sound of dry amusement. “Din told us he was a slippery one, bound to try to escape, why risk it? This is easier.”

Mythrol over one shoulder, rifle resting on the other, Corin sends her a dry look of amusement of his own as they start the walk through the small village hidden in the forest to get back to the ship. “Yeah. I remember when you wanted easy money.” He doesn't blame her for what happened at Nedar's hands, not anymore, but he has no trouble using it against her if it can save someone else from the same mistake.

Cara rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I saved your tight ass after, didn't I?”

Corin is not entirely sure what to answer to that. Technically she is right about saving him by bringing Din and the others, but Corin ends up saying nothing mostly because he quite honestly does not want to know if she really has studied his ass enough to know the state of its tautness.

Back at the ship, Corin moves the Mythrol into the carbonite freeze while Cara enters the cockpit and brings the ship's systems online and ready for take off. By the time Corin finds his place in the co-pilot seat, the small skiff is already leaving ground and heading for space.

“We made good time.” Cara states. “I told your boyfriend we would be back within five hours.”

Corin frowns. “He's not my... boyfriend.” The word feels too flimsy for what is between him and Din.

Groaning, Cara rolls her eyes before plotting in the coordinates for Sorgan. “Are we still not beyond this? Really? You're going to sit there and tell me you two are friends.”

Corin sinks down into his seat a little, uncomfortable. “But we are. Friends.” He likes to think they are, at least. You could be friends and... whatever else they were, at the same time, right?

“Just friends?” Cara slides her gaze over without turning her head, smirking as smugly as a Hutt.

To his irritation, Corin feels his face heat up. He'd rather have Din put a name to whatever they are and not risk assuming things that was just wishful thinking on Corin's part. “How about you just focus on not crashing us into a moon? Hmm?”

Cara cackles and turns her attention back to the controls.

It takes a little under one hour to get back to Sorgan and Cara sets the ship down a small distance from the village. Corin knows she's as eager as him to get back so he's not surprised that it takes close to no time from when they've landed to when they are out of the ship and walking towards the house where the others are waiting.
He smiles a little when he sees Omera in front of the building to greet them and Corin looks around for any sign of her daughter playing with a certain green child. No luck. But not surprising. The two of them tended to wander off on adventures from time to time, but never too far.

“Hey.” Omera says in her soft and soothing voice. “You're back early.”

“Yeah.” Corin replies, resting the rifle on his shoulder again. “It went without a hitch.” He glances around again, still hoping for a glimpse of the child. “How's he been?”

Omera shrugs a shoulder. “He wasn't too happy when you left. He misses you when you're not here, you know. Got quite fussy, so I had to find some tasks for him to keep him busy.” Her smile widens just a fraction. “Your son handled it better.”

Corin blinks, then realizes she had been talking about Din and is torn between an instinctive urge to defend him and a rush of warmth at the thought that Din had been that worried about him. “I, uh, where is he? Both of them?”

“The kids are playing in the garden in the back. Din is working on something on your ship.” Omera replies, then smiles when Cara steps forward and gives her a light kiss. “Hello, you.”

“Hello, you.” Cara echoes with a smile of her own. “I need to get in touch with my contact to unload the cargo, but I wanted to stop by first.”

Giving them a light salute, Corin backs away, then turns and heads towards the Razor Crest.

-

The Razor Crest is parked next to the forest, easily within view of the house, and Corin sees both side ramps are open. Whatever Din is up to, he's clearly quite determined.

Corin lowers the rifle to hold it sideways and with both hands, keenly aware of the value of the weapon and eager to return it in equally pristine condition he'd received it in. He'd tried to decline, but Din had been relentless. If the Mandalorian didn't get to come and watch his back, then his rifle would keep Corin safe.
Just remembering those words makes Corin's heart hurt.

And as if summoned from his thoughts, Din comes stomping out of the ship and down the ramp. There is a brief stop as he sees Corin, a light twitch to his shoulders, then the bounty hunter stalks towards him.

“Hey.” Corin greets him, amazed that the mere sight of the man still throws him off balance, and he proudly holds the rifle up for inspection. “Didn't even need to fire it, just like I said.”

Din grunts, grabs the rifle but only to move it out of the way so he can reach out his other hand and take a semi-gentle hold behind Corin's neck. “You okay?”

“Yeah?” Why wouldn't he be? Corin frowns a little, knowing Din had been awfully against them splitting up, but it had been the logical thing to do. The Mythrol would have recognized Din from their previous encounter, made a proper run for it and complicated things. It was a low risk bounty, the Mythrol had no history of violence, so it was just easier for Cara to bring Corin instead. Karga had given her the job, so she made the decisions, to Din's annoyance. “The poor guy just tried to slip away and ran straight into Cara's fist. Easiest job I've ever done.”

Din still scans him from head to toe as if he doesn't trust Corin to confess if he had been injured, that he would keep it from him. Seeing he's really okay, he squeezes Corin's neck gently. “Good.” There is actual relief in his voice. Corin suspects if they didn't need the credits, Din would never have agreed to the job unless he got to join them.

Clearing his throat, Corin looks over at the ship. “What are you doing in there?”

Din sighs, releasing him. “Just a little... maintenance.”

Corin snorts a laugh and decides to have a look inside. “You know Liita will murder you if you mess up her systems.” He steps up the ramp, enters the cargo area and comes to an abrupt halt. Whatever Din had been doing it had clearly included a lot of activity. The area is a complete mess of crates and wires, but that isn't the worst part. There is almost a carpet of dirt and leaves from one ramp to the other.

“Din...” Corin doesn't mean for the name to slip out with such a distressed tone to it, but he'd spent hours sweeping and cleaning this place yesterday. After an entire week of space travel, the place had been in no shape for a child to wander around on the floor, so he'd put in a real effort to have it clean before departure. Clearly all in vain...

The Mandalorian comes to a halt next to him, hesitates, then mumbles something about how he'd gotten carried away. He then walks over to store the rifle in the cabinet.

Sighing, Corin nods. It only means that the kid gets to play for a couple of hours longer anyways before he's stuck with just him and Din on the ship again. “Sorry. It's fine. Don't worry about it.” He reaches for the broom leaning against the wall and his fingers have barely closed around the handle before Din grabs a hold of it as well. Startled, Corin looks over him, not letting go.

“My mess. I'll get it.” Din says.

Corin snorts. Tasks like these are how Corin can be useful and contribute, why he had been quick to claim the duty on board the ship, he knows Din has bigger stuff to tend to. The idea of Din sweeping the floor is too absurd. “I told you; it's fine. Finish your work.”

“It's finished.” Din says, pulling the broom out of Corin's hands. “And it's my mess, so I will clean it up. Go to house, relax, play with the kid.”

Corin hesitates, but Din's Beskar glare does not waver and eventually he takes a hesitating step towards the exit. When Din grabs his wrist, Corin feels a stab of relief that it had only been a joke and that he'll be allowed to do the sweeping after all, but Din merely moves forward to lean into a gentle kov'nyn.

“I'm glad you're back.” Din says, releasing his wrist to reach up and gently touch Corin's jawline, exhaling, before he simply turns away and walks over to start sweeping by one of the ramps.

Corin swallows hard, stares over at him for a little while, tries to make his heart stop racing by pure force of will so he can find a way to express how much those words means to him, and when he fails; Corin quietly makes his way back to the house.

-

Approaching the back garden, Corin hears Winta's voice, accompanied by at least two other children, and when he rounds the corner to see, he finds four younglings creating some sort of miniature town out of sticks and stones.
The second the smallest one, his precious one, spots him, it drops what it is doing and gets up with an excited squeak before shuffling towards Corin.

Seeing it reach its little hands up, Corin wastes no time in granting its wish and picking it up in his arms. He gives the other three children a brief greeting before focusing on the one in his embrace. “How are you doing, little bean? I thought I told you to look after your dad. He's been tearing the ship apart, you know?”

It is probably Corin's imagination that makes it seem like the child gives a resigned nod.

He spends some time with the children, admires their work and is ordered to add his own little dwelling in the shape of a broken, upside down cup. (The child even grants him a small rock to have in his 'yard'.)
Eventually the two children visiting head home for dinner and Omera calls them in to eat as well.
Corin wants to go and get Din, but Omera assures him that Din will join them when he feels like it.

They eat and Corin then helps clean up while Winta and the little one relocate to a nest of blankets to share some sweets. He glances at the door, still worried that Din hasn't shown up, but he also doesn't want to bother the man if he is busy working on whatever he was doing to the Razor Crest. It's almost a relief when it turns out their clothes are dry after washing them this morning and he can start folding them and putting them into their respective bags.
He lingers a little on one of Din's shirts, knowing this the one which Din tends to push the sleeves up on and has a moment where he remembers too keenly the golden skin revealed by this act. He then realizes that Omera is watching him a knowing look and he clears his throat before quickly folding the shirt and putting it into Din's bag.

Five minutes later, the child comes tottering over and insists on helping. Which basically means it will spend ages on a single piece of clothing, often pulling out something Corin has already folded and placed in a bag and try to fold it again with lots of effort and little success.
Corin can't help but to smile as he watches.

And only a handful of minutes after that, the door opens and Din finally appears. “Ship's clean.”

Straightening, Corin lights up at the mere sight of him.. “Hey. There is food over by the table if you want to go some place and eat? Or we could leave?”

Din makes a non-committing sound and walks over to them. “When you two are so hard at work?”

Corin exhales a soft laugh, even more charmed by the child holding up a twisted mess of a pair of pants it had 'folded' for Din to inspect, then he has to clench his jaw to keep from making a stupid sound when Mandalorian crouches down in front of the child to admire the result with softly spoken Mando'a.
It's only when Din straightens up again that Corin remembers to fold the clothing he's holding.

“Where's Cara?” Din asks, clearly keen on getting his hands on both the credits and the information she had promised them.

Ever since they had left the beautiful snow, it had been a tense search for someone who knew how to control the Force that wouldn't turn them in to the New Republic. When they'd gotten a message from Cara on Sorgan that she had a lead on someone who possibly could help them, it had given them hope. And once there, Cara had also generously enough offered to share a bounty with them so they'd be able to fuel up before heading out in search of this man.

“She's fetching the payment.” Corin replies, carefully easing a shirt into his bag before picking up a tiny robe belonging to the child. One of three that Omera had made for him. “She'll be back soon.”

Din starts folding clothes with practiced moves. “We should leave tonight. We're safer on the move.”

Nodding, Corin places the folded robe inside the child's bag and starts folding a second one just as the child drags the first out of the bag again and starts its very own project with it. “Roger that.” He trusts Din's instincts. “But we should stock up on provisions first. We're running low.”

Din nods. “I noticed.” He folds one of Corin's sleeveless shirts, lets his hand linger for a moment on top of it before he slips it into Corin's bag. “I'll, uh, take care of it.” Crouching down again, he starts to untangle the child from the robe that seems to have developed a will of its own.

-

When Cara arrives, she smugly hands over the credits to Din like a mother handing out allowance. Corin tries to hide his amusement as he can feel Din's narrow glare at her.

“We just need to load up on provisions, then we're off.” Din mumbles as he pockets the credits.

“No.” Cara says, opening a bottle of wine.

“No?” Corin asks, curious.

“No.” She confirms, grinning as she pours wine into three cups. “Tomorrow. You can't leave today.”

“Why not?” Din asks in a dry tone as she hands one cup to Corin, one to Omera and keeps one for herself.

Cara gives him a salute with the cup and drinks the wine in one gulp before focusing on him again. Her eyes are bright with good cheer and amusement. “Because tonight Giano and Cipolla are getting married and the entire town is invited to the party. That includes you visitors too.” She winks at Corin. “Free drink and food, my pretty idiot.”

Corin takes a big swallow from the wine. “Stop calling me pretty.”

Cara's grin widens and she points her cup at him. “Note that you're not denying the 'idiot'-part.” She refills her cup. “Stay tonight and I'll help you get your supplies tomorrow.”

Flustered, Corin looks over at Din, who looks at him in turn and merely shrugs.

“Stay.” Omera asks in her mild voice, placing a correcting hand on Cara's arm and makes the former shock trooper switch moods in an instant from teasing to mellow. “Like Cara says, we can help you prepare tomorrow. One night of good cheer can't harm, can it? It might do you some good.”

“Fine.” Din replies, equally incapable of resisting Omera as everyone else. “Tomorrow then.”

Corin knew officers who would have murdered to have that kind of quiet and natural authority that Omera possesses, the kind that just makes people automatically obey her wishes.

The party, thrown in the middle of three freshly cut fields, turns out to indeed include every soul in the town, loud music and what appears to be endless amount of food and wine. Corin tries to persuade Din to grab something and head back to the house just to taste it, but the Mandalorian claims to be quite content where he's found a patch of grass to lounge on with the child sitting next to him. The little one is quite busy eating far too much, far too fast.
“You're sure?” Corin asks, sitting down next to him with a touch of guilt for having a drink in his hand.

“Don't worry about it. I'm fine.” Din reassures him. “Have fun. It might be a while until we get a chance to relax like this again.”

Knowing Din is probably right, he always is, Corin decides to do as he's told. He indulges in the food, is careful with the wine as he doesn't want to be hung over when they leave tomorrow, but the biggest temptation emerges when a woman comes over and asks him to dance.

Corin looks over at Din, seeking permission.

Din snorts. “What are you looking at me for? She's asking you.”

“Would it be okay if...?” Corin isn't drunk, but he's had just enough wine to feel the heat in his cheeks and the lure of the music.

“If you want to go; go.” Din waves him away.

Corin takes the woman's hand and scrambles up to join her. On the field next to where Din and the child are sitting, the villagers are already dancing to the lively music being played by a small group of men with some interesting instruments. Corin has no idea how the dance goes, but the woman shows him and it doesn't take long before he gets a hold of it. It's fast moving, intense and fun. It's really fun!

After the woman, a young, blushing man asks for the next dance, then a girl barely in her teens, followed by the return of the first woman. He has no idea how much time passes, but finally Corin excuses himself and trots back to where Din is sitting, now with the full and snoring child in his lap.
Dropping to his knees next to him, Corin grins, breathless and slightly damp with sweat, giddy with wine and dancing. “Come on. Dance with me.”

Din freezes up. Then he clears his throat and gestures to the child.

Corin nods towards where Omera is sitting with Cara and Winta by her side. “I'm sure we can ask them for one final favor. Come on.”

“No. Not here.” Din mumbles, sounding awkward and uncomfortable.

A little disappointed, but able to respect that not everyone is okay with acting silly in front of an entire town, Corin shifts over to sit back down next to him and looks at the dancing crowd. “This was nice. I'm glad we stayed.”

“You should go back. They were disappointed when you left. You were the best dancer there.” Din mumbles.

Pleasantly surprised that Din had been watching him, and a little embarrassed, Corin merely leans his shoulder against his and sighs happily. “No, I'm done for the night. But I refuse to believe you guys don't have some Mandalorian dances.” Din's silence confirms their existence and Corin glances over him with a grin. “If you refuse to teach me some day, I'll ask Paz.”

Din grunts annoyed. “Fine.” His hand covers Corin's on the ground, fingers gently curling around his. “Some day.”

-

They leave the next day. It's bittersweet. Corin sees the life Din and the child should have; a permanent home and surrounded by friends, but with the name Cara has given them, they now at least have a hope for that kind of life, if the child can learn to control the Force within it.

“Marcus...” Corin mumbles as they head back up into the darkness, his cheek still tingling from Omera's sweet hug, his shoulder still aching from Cara's 'friendly' punch, and the stone-frog Winta had made him is safely in his pocket. “Do you really think he can help us?”

Din increases the speed to give them the final push to break out of the atmosphere. “We got nothing to lose by asking.”

Corin glances over at the crib where the child is staring at the stars with delight. “I suppose not.”
These last couple of weeks had been without any Force incidents and Corin can't decide whether he's relieved or if that makes him even worried. Either it means it has stabilized within the child or it is building up for something bigger.

A name and a location where he had been observed multiple times, Cara hadn't been able to give them a lot of information, but it was more than they had to go on before and it would simply have to be enough. It was, as Corin had concluded earlier, hope.

They are so set on their new destination that both Din and Corin are completely unprepared the next day when a yellow lamp on the control panel starts flashing. The Mandalorian reaches out and pushes a button that will transmit the signal from the receiver to the computer screen.

“What is it?” Corin asks, hovering behind the pilot seat. A signal of some sort, of course, but what kind?

Din doesn't answer right away, presses some more buttons, then leans back. His entire body is tense, even his voice. “It's an emergency signal. From the defector camp.”

Corin feels a jolt of fear. Had Gideon or some other war-lord decided to attack? “What did it say?”

Shaking his head, Din stares at the screen. “Nothing. We're too far out. It was just an emergency signal, no message. We need to get closer to be able to talk to them.”

Knowing they need to find this Marcus, Corin makes a half-tortured sound, running his hand through his hair in a conflicted move. If the others were in trouble, which they had to be in order to ask them for aid, hadn't Corin promised to do what he could to help?

Din leans forward and starts plotting in new coordinates into the navigation system.

Despite Mando'a having taken over most of his studies these days, Corin has learned enough about space travel to recognize the destination. “But... Marcus.”

“We'll find him after.” Din fires up the hyper engine. “I think the kid can handle things a little longer. He's tough. Strong. Mandokarla.”

Relieved, both that he won't have to make the choice and because he knows Din is right about the child, Corin now only has to worry about what had happened to Kiergan and the others for them to send out this signal.

Even with the engines pushed to the limit of what they could take, it still takes almost two day-cycles before they are within reach of the communication system.
Corin has just placed the child in its little make-shift room for a post-food nap when he hears voices as he makes his way back up to the cockpit. Just as he enters, Din ends the conversation with a sigh.
“Was that them?” Corin asks immediately, rushing over to his side. “What did they say? What's wrong?”

“It wasn't them who sent out the signal.” Din replies. “It was Zev'sonya.”

“What?” Okay, now Corin is even more confused. “Why would she...?”

“She's asking for our help. I said yes.” Din sounds curt and that screams that bad luck has somehow struck. He plots something into the computer, checking for the fastest route back to where they had left her and the other former Storm Troopers.

“Okay?” While Corin is pleased they are going to help her, she had gone above and beyond to help his fellow defectors after all, he is still confused as to why she would ask him and Din. What kind of emergency was this? “Did she say what the emergency was?”

Din hesitates for half a second. “Mose.”

-

It takes at least two more day cycles before they make it back to the planet that had become the safe haven for defectors. Corin already feels exhausted by the time they walk towards the impressive semi-castle as he has not been able to sleep much since the emergency signal. He had relaxed and bad luck has decided to punish him. Like before. This was why he'd stopped caring about others.
The child on his arm looks up at him with a worried chirp, but he can only give it a distracted reassurance as they are now walking towards the entrance door and he can see that Zev'sonya is already waiting for them.

If Corin feels exhausted, she looks twice as drained.

“How bad is he?” Din says in lieu of a greeting.

Shaking her head, she turns and leads the way towards Mose's room. “Bad.”

“What happened?” Corin asks, giving Kiergan an acknowledging nod as he pokes his head out from a different room and gets a relieved nod in return.

“We got hit. Over a week ago.” Zev'sonya's voice is flat. Even her skin color is nowhere near its usual radiant yellow. “Me, him and some bucketheads went on a supply run when we ran into some other bucketheads. There was a quick scuffle, no big deal, but one of them fired this grenade thing at us. At first it just seemed like a stupid smoke grenade. We were fine, all of us, but after we got back a couple of days later... I noticed he wasn't feeling well. I didn't realize how serious it was until he had trouble moving around. He stopped eating.” She wraps her arms around herself as she talks. “He hasn't been awake since yesterday.”

Corin looks down at the child and sees it staring in the direction of Mose's room, clearly sensing something being wrong. He hopes the little bean can help, but Corin isn't sure. This is no bleeding cut or broken bone...

They come to a halt in the doorway to Mose's room and there is a moment of shocked silence from both Corin and Din at the sight of the Hutt.

Mose is curled up on his side on his usual nest of pillows and blankets, but he is obviously sick. There is not only drool trailing from his mouth, but also something nasty running from his eyes and nose. His entire body is tense with pain, a faint tremble running through him from time to time, and Corin can see how worryingly thin he has become already.

The child trills softly.

Corin nods and walks closer before placing the child on its feet on the floor. It does not hesitate to shuffle closer, even as its ears droop and it makes a sad sound.
They watch in silence as the little one stops next to the Hutt's massive head, reaches out its small hands to place them against the thick hide and then leans forward to gently place its forehead against it to show affection in the Mandalorian way. It lets out a mournful chirp.

“He can't help him...” Din voices what they all realize at the same time.

Zev'sonya turns away, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth, doesn't make a sound.

Corin swallows hard, taking a step closer towards the briefly trembling Mose. “Why don't we know what this is? This has to be something Hutt related, yes? No one else is sick.”

“It's not any weapon registered in any official database.” Hauroko says, carefully inching forward from the shadows in the hallway with Kiergan and Dominic shuffling behind her. “I did some medic training at the Academy, so I looked up everything I could find on Hutts. We tried most of the broad spectrum medicines and antidotes that works on reptilian species. Nothing. The child was our last hope...”

Corin shakes his head. “We're not giving up.”

Din walks over and picks up the child, watching the Hutt for a few moments while he places a hand on Corin's shoulder, then turns to face the ones in the doorway. “How strong is your relay network? Your signal was able to reach us despite us being out of range.”

“That was Dominic and Heiden.” Kiergan explains, pointing to the skinny guy next to him. “They're tech geniuses. They managed to manipulate the system to make the signal go longer.”

“Good.” Din says. “We are going to send out some messages and see what information we can dig up that isn't on file. A weapon like this takes money and a place to create it.” He looks over at Corin. “Do you want to stay here with him while I get this started?”

Corin is bitterly aware of that he has no contacts to reach out to, unlike Din, have nothing to contribute towards a cure. He's useless, again. The only thing he can do is what Din is suggesting; stay here and do his very best to look after Mose. “Yeah...”

-

Din and the others leave. Corin, the child and Zev'sonya stay behind.
The Twi'lek settles down next to the Hutt, cross-legged on a folded blanket and she reaches out to take his large hand between both of hers. There is no reaction from Mose.

Corin sits down close to her, settling the unusually quiet child on his lap. He glances over at her and sees she's been crying. “How... how are you holding up?” It's a stupid question, but he has no idea how else to formulate his concern.

Zev'sonya shrugs. “I'll be fine.” She clears her throat. “I was just hoping the kid could...”

Nodding, Corin looks down at the child, sees it staring at Mose. Its ears are still drooping. “I know.” He looks back over at her. “But we're not giving up. Din will figure this out and then we'll have the Galaxy's best babysitter back.”

That brings a faint smile to Zev'sonya's lips and her eyes brim up with tears again. She runs her fingers over the back of Mose's hand and Corin sees how the thick hide is dry and brittle with dehydration. “Everyone always asks me why I'm working with a Hutt, why I'm traveling with a Hutt, but no one ever asks why he puts up with me.”

“Because you're nice?” Corin offers, confused.

That makes Zev'sonya huff a ghost of a laugh before she glances over at him. “I'm willing to bet you still haven't forgiven me for climbing that Mandalorian of yours like a varactyl.”

Corin flushes, torn between the memory of his anger and the incredible night that followed. “I...”

Shaking her head, Zev'sonya turns her focus back to Mose, clutching his hand carefully. “Don't worry about. It's okay. It's just that I do stupid stuff like that all the time. I constantly mess everything up. Ever since I was a kid and escaped the slavers who bought my family, I have been determined to never be what others expect me to be. So I rush into stuff, decide on things without really thinking, and I can't count the times Mose has had to pull me out of the fire.”

Corin looks at Mose as well. “Because you're friends. That's what friends do.”

“Friends don't ruin the life of the other and gets them killed.” Zev'sonya closes her eyes and silent tears trails down her face. “I decided we were going to help the bucketheads. I used our contacts to secure the island and this place. After the island and the surrounding area got bombed, word spread not to do business with us. We're out in the cold.” She sniffles and wipes at her face with one hand, holding on to Mose with the other. “We were only on that run because I've made it so we don't have a place to go to if we leave this planet. I did this to him. He's dying because he's loyal.”

“Hey.” Corin reaches out and takes her hand as she lowers it from her face. “He's not going to die.” He had no idea the costly price they had paid for helping them.

There is a scary lack of hope in her eyes when Zev'sonya looks at him. “Even if they find a cure, he might be too weak to make it anyway. Look at him, Corin.”

Corin has to admit he is startled by how reduced the Hutt looks. It's as if he's been sick for months, not a week. He can see the loose hide as Mose clearly has lost an extreme amount of weight. “Why is he so skinny? I mean, he's always been thin compared to other Hutts I've seen, but this is...”

“Hutts have to eat enormous amounts of food to sate their instinctive hunger and so they usually grow too big, too fat, to move around by themselves.” Zev'sonya lips tremble. “Mose has always been dreading that so he never eats enough to ease his hunger, just until he has had enough to keep from starving. He said he wanted to be able to be free for as long as he could. But with no food, his high metabolism is burning through his fat in no time.”

“There must be something we can do.” Corin states, still refusing to accept defeat. “I'll talk to Hauroko. She had medic training, she said. There must be some way to keep him alive until they can find a cure.”

“He's a Hutt. Nobody cares if a Hutt dies.” Zev'sonya points out with heart-breaking resignation.

“We care.” Corin reassures her, supported by a faint chirp from the child. He sees how lost she feels and he wonders if this was how sad Din had felt when he had watched him think nobody cared. “You are not alone, Zev. Mose might be your best friend, but he's not your only friend. I think you're going to discover that you, both of you, are surrounded by allies here.”

And if a Mandalorian, a magical baby, former soldiers and a smuggler queen joined ranks to save a Hutt, not even bad luck could get in their way!

Right?

- - -