Chapter Text
“Where’s Parjii?” he asked Peli.
The wide-eyed mechanic held The Kid tightly. “I don’t know, he took her somewhere, I think the bunk--”
Mando dashed onto the Crest , finding his bunk closed. The pit in his stomach deepening, he opened it. Blood was everywhere, coating the walls, her shredded corpse--
No, no, no! She wasn’t dead, but his nightmare insisted on showing her violated, lifeless body, ripped dress soaked in blood, and her blue skin torn. With a low moan, he jerked himself awake. The comforting lights of the Crest’s cockpit glowed around him, and he stiffly sat up straight in the pilot’s chair.
Maybe I should have slept in my bunk , he thought, putting a hand to his head. Even as he thought it, he knew he couldn’t stand to be in there right now. The protein destabilizer he’d used to break down the blood stains in his bunk left a distinctive scent, and he’d just spent an hour immersed in it trying to clean Parjii’s blood off his walls and mattress. The smell of it would only make sleep impossible -- and the nightmares worse, he suspected.
He focused on a light blinking on his console, groggily struggling to remember what it signified. Incoming message , he dredged up through his exhaustion and eagerly pressed it.
Bastion’s holo appeared on the projector, the warm brown of his skin and eyes washed away to sickly green. He had more wrinkles than Mando remembered, most of them smile-lines, but his old acquaintance wasn’t smiling now.
“‘Left on bad terms?’ Mando, you’ve developed a real gift for understatement. I believe I told you if I ever saw you again, I’d stick a blaster under your chin and count the number of ricochets the bolt made in your helmet. We didn’t leave on bad terms, you kriffed Pisa and me on that hunt because Xian asked you to do it, and I haven’t forgotten.”
The holo image paused and frowned more deeply. “Your friend is lucky Pisa overheard the message, though, so yeah, you can come to the Academy, and you can talk to me about taking on your friend. I want to be clear, if you’re running a scam for Ran, or if your friend is, Pisa’s gonna pull your arms off and beat you to death with them. Coordinates to our landing pad are attached. Don’t try to set down anywhere else on Naboo, or Pisa will get to practice her disarticulation techniques.”
Mando had already set course for Naboo, even before getting permission, so he didn’t need to change course. He entered the landing coordinates Bastion had provided, then sat back and tried to relax. He had suspected that Bastion would help a former slave; the man was one of the most ardent abolitionists Mando had ever met. It was why Xian had convinced him to screw Bastion on that job. The man regularly passed on bounties for slaves or refused jobs that involved supporting slavery.
I was an idiot , Mando sighed to himself as he stood up. He’d been young and credit-hungry, and running jobs for Ran had been good credits. It’d never occurred to him until later that Ran could have just cut Bastion loose if he didn’t like his stances. Screwing the former associate on the way out the door had just been a petty pleasure. Especially for Xian, Mando reflected, once again hating that he’d ever allowed her to have any influence over him.
Just two days, and then he’d be at the Academy. He wasn’t sure how he’d pay her tuition, but he knew he had to find a way. He couldn’t ever come back to the Crest and find her like that again.
At the thought of finding her, he saw the image again: his bunk door sliding back, and Parjii lying so still, her back a horror of purple welts and oozing cuts. His walls and bedding covered with streamers of violet blood, while his heart went into freefall.
Shaking his head, he left the cockpit and went down to the cargo bay. Both of his people were sleeping peacefully, and Mando sank down on the floor by The Kid. He only meant to stay a moment, but the quiet sound of the child and Parjii sleeping kept him there. It wasn’t long before he joined them in slumber, despite the uncomfortable position against the bulkhead.
He woke to Parjii’s voice calling his name. He looked her over; the dried bacta on her back needed to be reapplied, but she hadn’t bled overnight. The welts were darkening, as had the hand-shaped bruise on her lekku. The shabhead had squeezed the delicate organ, and Mando wished he hadn’t killed him so quickly. Calican deserved to suffer for what he’d done.
“Morning,” he said to her, smiling. Seeing her awake and talking helped his own mood.
“What you doing?” she asked. Even through the digitization of his helmet, he could hear the pain in her voice.
“Do you want breakfast?” he asked, trying to avoid admitting that he’d fallen asleep watching her and The Kid sleep. She blinked, still clearly dealing with brain-fog from the meds, and he clarified, “Are you hungry?”
The Twi’lek stirred a little and he saw the tremble in her motion as she tried to move through the pain. Despite not being capable of doing more than lying still, she said, “I can try fix it.”
He tilted his head at her, anger spiking in him. Did she really think he expected her to get her own food in this state? He’d practically had to carry her to bed last night. “Are you serious?”
She flinched, clearly upset, and stammered, “I, uh, ka ?”
“Parjii, you’re staying in bed.” Mando somehow managed to stop himself from calling her a stubborn idiot. Rising, he went into the kitchen and opened the preserver. Pre-processed food stared back at him, and he didn’t have a clue how to correctly process it into food. He’d never had to learn; someone else cooked for him, or he just ate rations.
Angry at himself for the personal oversight, he grabbed a ration bar for her and went back to the cargo bay. The child was still sleeping; Mando knew he was going to have to get him something to eat soon, too. He gave her the bar. “Here. It’s all that I’m bringing out of the kitchen.”
“Thank you,” she replied and broke off a piece, eating slowly.
He debated letting her finish, but he had to tell her his plans. “Parjii, this can’t happen again.” He pushed away the image of her lying wounded in his bed again. She watched him with wide eyes as he continued, his words speeding up as he spat them out. “I have to know that The Kid is safe if I leave the ship. I can’t work if I can’t know that my home is safe. I can’t focus if I’m worried about someone coming after the two of you for something I did to them. Or the next person who wants to take the bounty on me and The Kid.
“So I need to take you to an old associate of mine, Bastion Cete. He’s got a school for training people how to fight, the Cete-Pisa Academy. He’s agreed to consider taking you, and I know that he’ll do it once I tell him what happened. So I have to leave you there for a while. Bastion will say how long. It’s safe there, I promise, but I can’t leave The Kid there because it’s not safe for them.” He didn’t need to ask if she understood; her sad expression and the tears she failed to hide told him she got it. “This is how it has to be.”
The Kid sat up and stared blankly around the room. Seeing Mando, he waddled over and collapsed against his boot, then closed his eyes and started snoring again. Picking him up and ignoring the irritated howl coming from the grumpy child, Mando said, “I’m going to feed him. I’ll check on you again soon.”
~ * ~ * ~
Mando was a terrible caregiver, or at least that’s how he felt as he did his best. He administered painkillers as necessary, he helped her to the head when she needed, and he made sure she had plenty to eat. As far as patients went, she was easy to care for, mostly sleeping or lying next to The Kid as he played with his toys. Still, he felt like he was missing a part of her care, and he couldn’t figure out what.
They arrived on Naboo without incident, and Mando landed at the designated spot. It was a small landing pad in a break in the trees, fenced to keep animals from wandering through with a footpath disappearing into the forest. Though no one was there when he set down, by the time he had Parjii limping down the ramp, they had company. Mando paused at the sight of Bastion, tall and wide in his modified trooper armor with blasters on both hips and the small Wookie standing to his right. Small Wookie meant she still topped Mando by six centimeters, and she had a sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Mando remembered her using it like he used a rifle, a discomforting memory when she snarled at him. Though Bastion had more wrinkles and silver hair than the last time they’d met, he still had the lean lines of a trained warrior. The other three people there Mando didn’t recognize, but they were well-armed and staring with hostility. Bastion had been telling stories about him.
“Bastion,” Mando said, nodding in a respectful greeting. “Pisa.”
The Wookie bellowed at him, and Bastion translated, “That’s Pisaarrrick to you. Is this your friend?”
“Parjii, this is the one I told you about, Bastion and that’s Pisa-- Pisari-- Pisaarrrick.” Mando winced as he mangled the Wookie’s name and she bared her fangs at him. “I’m afraid I don’t know your other three friends.”
“Don’t worry about us,” the short redheaded man said with a little smirk. “Worry about minding your manners.”
“Abo,” Bastion said, and the man fell silent. Stepping forward, Bastion eyed Parjii closely. After a long moment, he asked tersely, “So who worked you over?”
“He’s dead,” Mando said.
“I’m talking to Parjii, and you can keep your trap shut,” Bastion snapped. Mando ground his teeth, but remained silent as Bastion returned his dark gaze to her. “Who did this to you?”
“Toro Calican,” she answered softly. She tried to straighten from her lean on Mando’s arm but gave up with a wince.
“Do you want me to teach you how to beat the dwang out him next time?” Bastion asked her bluntly.
Parjii frowned. “I no can do that. I no fight.”
“Anyone can learn to fight. Do you want to learn?” he asked.
She glanced up at Mando and he gazed at her, choking down rage at the sight of her swollen jaw and bruised lekku. “I can’t answer that for you,” he told her gently.
“But you want me do this?” she asked.
Aware of Bastion’s steely gaze, he said, “I want you to be safe, even when I’m not around.”
“Don’t do what he wants,” Bastion interrupted. “If you’re not willing to do the work to learn, then you’re wasting my time, your time, and taking resources from someone who wants to be here. Honestly, if this were just for Mando, I’d tell Pisa to rip his arms off instead.” The Wookie made a pleased wuff . He pressed his hands together and pointed them at Parjii sharply. “Do you want to learn to kill any kriffer trying to kill you?”
She was silent for a long moment, and Mando waited, hoping she was about to give the right answer. “ Ka,” she said.
“I don’t speak Twi’lek,” Bastion said roughly, “or whatever that is. In Basic, we say ‘yes’, got it?”
“K-- Yes,” she said. “But my Basic bad.”
“We can room her with Chee,” the woman with copper skin and vivid green eyes said. “She talks so much, you’ll pick up Basic in no time, Parjii. I’m Amli.”
“She trains my beginners,” Bastion said, “and you’ll be seeing a lot of her. She’s going to take you to the medbay now, while I chat with Mando.”
“Wait, I say bye?” she asked, her fingers tightening around Mando’s arm as if afraid Amli was going to rip her away.
“Nah, you’ll see him at dinner tonight.” Bastion smiled at her, changing the hard lines of his face from foreboding warrior to favorite father figure. “Go on, I promise you’ll get your things and have a chance to say farewell.”
Amli took Mando’s place as Parjii’s living crutch, and together, the two women walked up the path from the landing pad to the school proper. The other two guards followed, though Abo only went to the landing pad’s entrance where he took up an alert stance at the gate.
Bastion waited until they were out of earshot, then asked, “How long has she been with you?”
“A couple of months,” he said.
“You’re still a right idiot,” Bastion said and Pisa rumbled in agreement. “Can’t see past the end of your helmet.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done for her,” Mando snapped, his anger finally finding an acceptable outlet. “I killed six men just so she could escape. I’ve fed her, protected her--”
Bastion’s sarcastic clapping cut him short. “Well done for being a decent person for once, Mando. I’m so proud.”
In icy tones, Mando said, “You’ve seen my attempts at teaching--”
Bastion cut him off again with a harsh scoff. “And in return, she’s what? Cooking, cleaning, warming your bed--”
Mando pulled his blaster, but managed to keep it pointed down. Pisa brought her rifle up, but he ignored it; Bastion hadn’t drawn and Pisa wouldn’t shoot without his say-so. “If you ever suggest I’d take advantage of her like that--”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Bastion asked softly. “She’s just a slave.”
That was out of character and with effort, Mando realized he was being baited. “No, she’s not.” He holstered his blaster. “She freed herself, before she hid on my ship. Everything she does, she wants to do, and no, we’re not having sex.”
Bastion waved at Pisa,who grumbled angrily but lowered her weapon. “So what are you getting out of it, Mando?” he asked.
“Nothing,” he said.
Bastion shook his head. “No one does anything for free,” he said. “For example, if I take Parjii in, I expect to be paid. So how is she paying you?”
“She’s not,” Mando said, his voice getting heated again.
Pisa barked something, and Bastion nodded. “Does ‘only fools do free’ sound familiar?”
Mando winced at his words being used against him. “There are more important things than credits.”
“So what?” Bastion asked, squinting suspiciously. “You care about her?”
“What do you want from me?” Mando knew what he wanted, but something in him wouldn’t let him just say it.
“I want to hear you say you care, Mando,” Bastion said.
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear you admit that something, anything , matters to you more than credits.” Bastion crossed his arms, and Pisa rumbled an agreement. “Because you kriffed us over once for credits, for people you hated as much as we did. So yeah, not trusting your new sense of charity.”
When he’d first met them, Mando reflected, he’d been young and eager to help the covert. He’d been a little over-eager, he could admit privately, a little blind to the character of people he worked with or the nature of the work he did. “I get it,” he said. “I listened to the wrong people. I’m sorry, is that what you wanted?”
“Oh, get the kriff over yourself,” Bastion growled. “What you did to me only matters because it showed me who you were. Now, do you care for the Twi’lek? I want to hear you say it.”
“Or what? You won’t admit her as a student?” Mando growled.
Bastion’s hands dropped to his weapons and Pisa’s wide shoulders tensed again. “No, I’m going to help her. But unless I think you have her best interests at heart, you’re never going to see her again.”