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M'rina Masturs never thought this was how she was going to die. The Mandalorian Foundling had grown up under Clan Wren. Countless battles. Scars decorating her face and body. Pirates and tyrants dead at her boot.
But this? This was surely the end.
“Don't move,” the woman standing over her ordered. Her grip on M'rina's chest was unyielding. The suspense of not knowing when the final strike would come was more than she could bare. Despite her efforts to stay strong, she let out an embarrassing whimper.
Tears stung her eyes as she turned her head over in defeat. Through the blurred vision, she could barely make out the Twi'lek beside her. The yellow-green alien appeared to be looking back at her.
“It'll be okay,” the stranger tried to assure. It didn't help, as the kind woman briefly grunted in pain herself.
Before M'rina could try to respond, her vision went white. The torturer looming above pressed the cold durasteel against her sensitive skin. The moment came quickly. The sensation of the stabbing was incomparable to anything she'd experienced before. It wasn't like a blaster bolt or being hit by a speeder. No, this was precise. Concentrated.
It was too much.
M'rina finally began to fade from consciousness, surely for the last time.
****
All-in-all, M'rina liked her new accessory. She was still reeling from the embarrassment of the whole thing.
Maybe the asymmetry could be hot, she thought.
Plus, a free T-shirt was always a win. M'rina had opted to put the white piece of clothing on as she went to retrieve her Beskar from the lockers. As she strutted through the lot, an excited voice called out to her.
“Hey, girlie!”
M'rina looked around for the source of the shout. Quickly she spotted a yellow-green hand waving her down. The woman was walking over briskly.
“How'd it go?” The alien stranger asked. As she finally approached, the Mandalorian realized this woman was a good few centimeters taller than her. But what else was new?
“Uhh…” M'rina wasn't exactly sure what she was asking.
“In the parlor!” The woman clarified. “I saw you in there on the other table.”
Terrible. It went terribly.
“Oh, not so bad,” M'rina lied, sheepishly tucking hair behind her ear.
“That's good to hear.” The Twi'lek smiled warmly. “It seemed like you were having a hard time, but I'm happy it all worked out.”
The fire burning in M'rina's cheeks was sudden. She couldn't tell if it was from lying to this gorgeous, friendly woman or from this gorgeous, friendly woman's natural charm.
“Okay. Admittedly, I fainted after she did the first one,” M'rina came clean, unable to look this cute stranger in the eye.
“Oh, no!” A hand landed on M'rina's shoulder. Her eyes went wide at the soft touch. “Are you okay!?”
When she looked back, the Twi'lek was wearing a concerned, but mostly sympathetic expression.
Gods, I'm pathetic.
“Umm…” Again at a loss for words, M'rina tried her best to keep the conversation on track without further embarrassment. “I'm okay now.”
That earned her a smile and a light squeeze on the shoulder before she pulled her hand away. M'rina couldn't help but smile back.
“I actually didn't stay for the second one,” she continued. “But they gave me back half the credits.”
The woman's smile turned to a seeming smirk as she gave a quick head-tilt.
“Hey, the asymmetry is always hot.”
Wait, is she…
“Oh! Did you get anything special or just the basic kind?”
They had other kinds?
“I think I got the basic? Polished durasteel barbell?”
The woman nodded.
“Yeah, that's the regular.” She said. “I had some extra scratch, so I went a little fancy. Here, let me…”
M'rina's stomach sank into her feet as the extraordinarily beautiful woman in front of her that she'd just met gripped at either side of her shirt and began to lift.
“Wait…” The Twi'lek shook her head and stopped halfway before putting her shirt back down. She must have suddenly remembered they were standing in a speeder lot at a fully packed leasing event with hundreds of bystanders.
“Sorry, I almost flashed you in front of everyone!” The woman cringed, baring her teeth.
M'rina didn't respond with words. Just astonished sounds while trying to get her head on straight.
Before the woman could apologize further, her communicator chirped. M'rina watched as she reached into a pouch on her belt to retrieve it. She noticed one of the woman's lekku was shorter than the other.
Hot asymmetry indeed…
“Well, that's the office,” the woman said.
Clearly the woman had to cut the conversation short.
“Duty calls, huh?” the Mandalorian replied.
Disappointment tugged at M'rina. She could have talked with -- or awkwardly giggled around -- this alluring Twi'lek for hours.
But as she shook the woman's hand, it was probably the last she'd see of her in this vast galaxy.
“Well, it was nice meeting you…?” the woman asked for her name.
“M'rina,” she smiled. “M'rina Masturs.”
“Pretty name,” the woman said before sharing her own. “I'm Eris.”
“Oh. Likewise,” M'rina blurted out before she even realized she said it. They broke the handshake and she expected Eris to give a final goodbye and go about her life.
“Hey, uh…” Eris started. “If you wanna chat later…” she held out her comm. M'rina couldn't hide the excitement. She retrieved her own device, aligning it with Eris’. The twin communicators chirped again as they automatically exchanged contact frequencies.
“Alright, M'rina. Again, it was great meeting you! I look forward to hearing from you!”
“Totally!” M'rina replied as Eris. “I look forward, too!”
Eris nodded with a smile and turned away.
M'rina looked down at her comm, making sure to save Eris’ frequency. She was happy. And excited. And the excitement was only amplified when a voice called out again.
“And don't forget, M'rina!” Eris shouted across the lot. “I still want to show you mine.”
Eris' words were given with a wink and a pointed finger as she climbed into the backseat of a luxury speeder. M'rina couldn't have responded if she wanted to, as the vehicle sped away. She just stood, mouth agape at the whole situation.
Getting her nipple pierced at Space-Toyotathon was the greatest impromptu decision she'd made since coming to Coruscant.