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marierg · 28 days ago

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Good morning all! Hope that the weekend is being kind to you all. If not here's a little something for your reading pleasure. (I type as I grumble at my desk...)

Biscuits and Beskar: Ch. 8

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC Kaylee Manu

Rated: PG-13 (Language and violence, parental guidance suggested)

Warnings: cannon typical violence, language, old wounds/ past trauma, language. Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: This is more of a meat and potatoes chapter so no smuts. We're getting closer to the climax so just know that the pain is coming. Kaska is a Tuskin OC and one I've been working on for a while. I really wanted to have someone represent the Tuskins themselves and I tried to be as respectful as possible. Any recommendations are welcome so please drop 'em! If it's italicized then it's the Tuskin sign language.

Words: 6000 ish...

Gif by @anakin-solo

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To say that Drash was in an ill mood would be putting it lightly.

All afternoon it had felt as though her temper lashed upon the nearest being or droid that came too near. So she had taken to the hangar, working on her bike. Normally the sound of the wrench turning would act to soothe her circuits, but not today.

“E chu ta!”

Drash threw the spanner, sucking on her bloodied knuckles. She thought she'd been so smart getting you to come work for the Palace, thinking you'd be safe. She was a damn idiot to ever think that.

“Could get more thrust if you tuned the carb a bit.” Boba strode to the young woman, offering the spanner from whence it flew. She glared before ripping it from his grasp. Testy indeed as her friends had warned. Boba needed to understand what troubled the girl, the root of her anger. Drash had a temper for certain, but she controlled it well. Witnessing her practically stripped out the bolt heads, he knew it to be ruling the girl instead. Sitting on the crate a few paces off he took a deep breath. “Is there something about this Kaska business that troubles you?”

Drash could see the old man wasn't going to leave, roughing her nerves all the more. She wasn't in a talking mood and so continued ignoring the Daimyo. Drash glanced back to the bike refocusing as she pulled out the filter and placing it in the sonic cleaner.

The scrapper was tough Boba had to admit, didn't flinch. So what was it that she feared? “Drash?”

“It's fine. The drift trader's fine, alright,” She spat the words and tried to ignore the familiar burning in her chest. Storming to the tool box she began to rifle, there was no escaping it though. Over and over she saw that night, remembered your screams as they ran and hid. The stench of the dumpster and her own vomit while she and the others waited.

Waited to live, waited to die or worse.

The girl slammed the lid on the case, yanking another open to continue her search. Boba moved quietly, carefully taking the tool from her mechanical hand and placed it back. His eyes continued to assess as his tone remained neutral, “What troubles you then? Do you think that Kaylee will be in Danger?”

“Ain't none of us safe, what does it matter though?” Graveling out the words, Drash kept her own eyes glued to the wall. “You can always find another cook, another assassin, more muscle. Why would a Daimyo care, we're all expendable...”

“Your rage will not help you here ad'ika,” Once upon a time he may not have cared, that was the true, but no longer so. “You think it will protect you, keep you warm when all the others are gone. It won't.”

Drash turned, practically snarling. “You would know, eh?”

“Yes, I would.” It was a calm reply, laced though it was with regret. He had never gotten the chance to raise his daughter, never had the chance to pass on the hard lessons he'd learned. Drash was not Ailyn, nor was he her father, but his little tribe was as close to family as a man like him would ever get. “You're not the first to shed a tear, nor felt the sting of loss.”

“You know what's coming,” Drash narrowed her eyes, holding the Daimyo's gaze. She had learned long ago. Never blink, never back down, never show weakness. Yet here she was about to violate those rules of safety, for your sake. Because she couldn't loose you. “Send her away...”

“You really think I hadn't already considered that?”

Turning to fully face the old hunter Drash's shoulders set. Her voice began to rise, “She won't survive it again! Mama Kay almost died saving us and now it's happening all over again. Send her away where she's safe please!”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Boba wished he could do just that. “What happened?”

Drash knew from the Daimyo's tone that he would have the truth. Years of guilt filled her voice, “It was my fault... I tried to keep quiet.”

“Go on,” He saw as the girl's eyes clouded over. She may not flinch, but she was pained none the less as she sat twirling the ratchet.

“The bag men would come looking during the day. Lot of times they'd grab people on the street or you'd come home to your door kicked in, either way you'd never see those folks again. Sometimes sweep right into the school and grab a kid up. Stopped going, never real book smart anyway...” The twirling of the wrench was a soothing feeling in her flesh hand as Drash continued. “Mama Kay put us up in her restaurant, we hid up in the attic during the day. Wasn't bad for us big kids just... the littlin's got restless.”

Gnashing his teeth Boba saw red, but he let her go on. “How little?”

“My sister Nova was just eight. Couple of the others were younger, but she was the last one to hide with us. Mama Kay was trying to find a place for us to stay together but...” Wincing visibly the girl remembered how her sister had cried and begged not to go. Maybe if she had then things would be different. “The bag men got a tip off, came in the night. I tried to keep quiet but we were all sick and... they heard.”

The wrench ceased turning in her hand as moisture pricked her eyes. It had been a horror. The bag men had stormed in shouting, ordering the other patrons out. They had wailed on you, cut you, and still you hadn't said a word. Skad had been helping the others down the back stairs when the bastards lit the place on fire, used a can of astro fuel to really make it burn. It was when they were trying to get out that Drash had wretched what little she'd had in her stomach alerting to their presence. Nova had been grabbed, she was screaming for help. Drash had tried, the trandosian who held Nova wouldn't let go no matter how hard she'd hit him. Then the kark had grabbed her by the throat, hissing over Drash until all too suddenly he'd stopped.

She remembered the blood pouring down on her even as the flames rose around them. Coughing and sputtering she hadn't realized the it had been Mama Kay whose arms had looped around her, pulled her into the alley. It hadn't been till after Drash had been tossed in the dumpster that she realized that Nova wasn't with her.

Then the screams from inside...

“Mama Kay ran back in for Nova, part of the wall fell on her...” Voice barely a whisper as she tried to explain. “They made it out. Garsa hid us the rest of the night, then Kaska took us to the Dunes the next day, hid us for months until things calmed down.”

“And your sister?”

Her lip trembled as Drash clasped the little bracelet on her belt, “She was hurt too bad when the wall fell. She was just... too little... It was my fault.”

So that was it. The girl sought to right a wrong not of her doing, one that was never hers to bear. Drash had proven a strong and clever leader time and again among the mods. It had been she who had kept the little band held tight. A warrior unblooded and it was high time for her trial. Giving a solemn nod Boba grumbled, “Come with me.”

The girl followed the Daimyo across the bay and into the old Firespray. Drash felt cold, figuring he had brought her here for some lecture, chastisement for her foul behavior. Instead the Daimyo opened two cabinets in the wall, one lined with teeth of varying sizes, the other an armory case. “When I was a boy my father sent me into a cave and told me to return with this.”

Drash looked at the enormous tooth mounted in the case. It must have been a monster of a beast.

“He was teaching me a lesson, one that we all must learn.” Looking the girl in the eye Boba waited for her focus, “We do not let fear rule us. We have a task and we accomplish it.”

He then held out a pistol, small but better quality than what she had. At his insistent look, Drash took the fine weapon and tested it's weight.

“Are there any others from that night who still live?” Boba growled.

“Yes.” Her reply was as cold as ice. She listened as Fett placed his helmet back on, the vocoder amplifying his breathing. Looking at the visor from her periphery she wondered aloud. “Why are you doing this?”

“A blaster can be replaced, a life can. Use it well and add to the wall,” Boba closed the cabinets again, guiding the girl back out. “And when you do we shall mourn Nova together, properly.”

“And don't forget to have Nitro give Ratty and R9 a good once over. All those patrols has their gears in a bind.” You fretted reorganizing your pack for the third time.

Nikita smirked as her eyes rolled, “Oh he's going to love that.”

“Tough.” you groused, slinging your pack on. Let's see you'd delegated meals and kitchen to Kita cat, the droids to Nitro, the others were patrolling... “Oh and Freyn needs...”

“We know Mama Kay,” Nikita could feel the stress rolling off of you. Not that they all weren't in varying frayed states. “I packed the rations and saw to the temp logs and the delivery will be here by noon. Everything's handled, tell Kaska hello for us.”

Giving the girl a hug you rounded towards the bay, “just be safe till I get back.”

Drash got up and hugged you from where she worked on her speeder as you entered the bay. Boba was conversing with Mr. Djarin. Odd duckling that one, never ate with the rest of you. Neither here nor there for now as long as he protected your kids. Because that's what they were, they were yours and not even the stars could change that. They had carved an indelible mark on your heart and higher powers help if anyone lay a finger on them. As you secured the pack you could feel a presence coming from behind you. Boba thought he could be so sneaky, but you were learning him well. “Have something on your mind?”

Boba was glowering as you started up the speeder, “Let me send one of the others.”

“Kaska won't deal with anyone else.” Shaking your head a conversation you'd had three times over, you turned to face him. Stepping closer to Boba as he lingered in the shadows like a great brooding banshee. You stood hands on hips with a bemused look. It was your first real disagreement, but this needed to be done. Holding his gaze through the helmet you sighed, “Do you trust me Boba?”

He growled, “You know I do.”

“Then let me do this for you, please.” Reaching up to stroke affectionately at the heart on his chest plate, you tried to soothe him. His own large hand came to clasp around your fingers. Even with the helmet you could tell there was something haunting him, quite painful too. Whatever it was would not deter you though, “I'll go to Mos Eisley, get what we need, and be back before sundown. I'm taking the old bantha trails along the B'omar flats, no one goes that way and it's very protected.”

“Doesn't mean I have to like it,” Boba's voice was rough even to his ears. This was a dangerous precipice that his little tribe found themselves upon, a crossroads. One wrong move...

“No, you don't have to like it.” Tracing your finger along the side of his helmet you gently pressed a kiss to the cool metal. That is until he raised the helm to kiss you properly. Deepening it with a sweep of his tongue, you hummed in satisfaction. Once he'd lowered he helmet again you pressed your forehead to his. “I'll be extra careful, besides I have a good reason to get back quickly.”

“Oh, do you now?” Boba mused flirtatiously, gazing into your golden orbs. Eyes that smiled and laughed with life.

“Yes.” Smirking, your fingers teased the back of his cowl, “He's tall and handsome and likes my cooking...”

“Like more than that cyare,” Stubborn little Cookie, but it was a gamble he had to take. They were in short supply of ordinance and the Pikes had ceased any further shipments getting through. As you mounted the speeder he gave your hand a last, lingering squeeze. “Be quick.”

Drash had left, seeing you being affectionate made her gag. Din on the other hand stayed in the dark corner to observe. For as cold and calculating as Fett was reputed, seeing him with the small female was intriguing. As soon as your speeder dissipated into the distance though, Fett returned to his normal self. Clan did that, found those parts of you long forgotten or hidden away. Made you remember the person you wanted to be.

“Didn't you have somewhere to be Djarin,” Boba grumbled as he stalked back to the throne room.

Din's eyes followed the older hunter, humming to himself as he readied his ship for takeoff. The woman was far smarter than she let on and probably more than capable. Still, the sands had taken far more formidable beings in the past. He hoped to see her after his visit to Vanth. If for no other reason than she was a rarity in his and Fett's world.

“Peli, you in there?”

“Hold your banthas!” Raising her goggles to slide out from under the hulker that the Jawas had brought in, Peli Motto glanced across the bay to your smiling face. “You know I'm trying to run a business here, hardly get anything done with everybody in lately. First that custom job for... well never mind.”

“You're just too in demand!” Laughing at your friends boisterous attitude you walked around her many little mechanical friends to hold a wrapped package between you. “And what if I said I brought a little something extra for your troubles?”

Taking the package and sniffing, the odd little woman opened the string. Cackling in delight at the assorted treats, Peli was quick to put her casual business face back on. “Then I'd say I also found those parts you were after and that our mutual friend is around the corner.”

“There's a reason you're the best mechanic in the parsec,” Walking to the far corner of the second bay there he sat, waiting with his wares. Kaska had always been an odd creature from the day he'd walked into your cafe all those years ago. Much like then he sat, robes drawn around his body and respirator wheezing, all while carefully carving little figurines out of Bantha horn. Drawing closer you watched as the small piece took on shape.

Kaska had wandered the Dunes since the time before the Empire came. New Republic, Empire, old Republic, outlanders coming to try to claim that which had always belonged to his people. Some called the tribes Tuskins, after the battle of one of their settlements. But it was an outlanders name, not one that his people laid claim to. His tribe had long ago settled among the spires, keeping at bey the outlanders who only sought to take. More often they chose to keep the peace, but sometimes there were trespassers, those who should not be there. Unfortunately his own tribe paid a terrible price for choosing a path of violence against an ignorant innocent.

An innocent who had summoned a demon to exact revenge for her death. A demon who had slain them with the power of the suns itself. So few had survived that night, hiding in the crags of the cliffs and in nearby caves. After that the tribe had thought twice before any outsider was harmed, instead trading and selling, but always keeping to themselves.

It was partially from such dealings that his original trade agreement with the Manu woman had begun. Trading in melons and other dessert goods in exchange for money or food. Trading turning to an amicable friendship, the female having learned their language and even some of their customs. Customs which she was observing now, staying back a pace where he could see. Turning, Kaska set his tools aside and began to sign. “It's been a long time since you've asked such a favor of me.”

“I know and I don't ask it lightly.” At the old warriors signal you sat on the opposite crate and continued. “A storm is coming, your people and mine are in danger.”

“You work for the one in the Mesra Palace, one who walks both paths.”

Nothing surprised you much and it didn't surprise you that Kaska knew of your new employer. It was his turn of phrase describing Boba that tickled at intrigue. Something that you'd observed of Boba from your first meeting, that he fought and even moved like a Tuskin. That Kaska called him such was confirmation. Piqued, you couldn't help to question, “Do you know him?”

“His tribe was familiar to us,” Kaska let out a heavy sigh as his fingers punctuated his next words, “slaughtered by the off worlders.”

Nodding agreement you studied as Kaska paused.

“...Why do you fight for this Man?” Kaska observed as a smile fought to curve your lips. There was affection there perhaps, but enough to call upon his aid?

“Mok Shaiz has brought the Pike Syndicate to Tattoine. They will kill all of us, whether we fight or not, and bleed the planet for whatever they want. Someone has to defend the people.” choosing your words just as carefully as Kaska, you shook your head. “The Daimyo is trying to see a better way for all of the people on Tattoine. He wants to drive the Pike away, permanently. He wishes peace and prosperity.”

“Choosing violence always has a price young one,” Kaska saw the bitterness in your eyes, “but you know that.”

Yes, you knew all too well. “It's the only choice... the only one we've been given.”

“This is an outlanders war, we will take no part.” Standing Kaska made his way over to the cases of weapons that you'd ordered. Some of it was old Imperial issue, the rest was whatever the smugglers in Bestine, Carnthout, and Mos Taike had on hand. The old warrior had seen long ago the duality within you, two souls within. One being the kind, friendly, gentle being who cared for and loved those around them. One of peace and joy and brightness. Then there was the other, the one he'd seen born of fire and blood. A mother massif protecting her pack, a shadow. “These should aid you. I hope that we live to see this peace you speak of.”

“As do I. Perhaps you would come by the palace and I can cook for you again?” Detonators, rifles, hand blasters, a few scatter guns and belt blasters, but it was the fire bombs that caused your attention to shift. Delicate hand blown glass containing a chemical mixture that reacted at the first second of oxygen exposure. These in particular were a product of the sands as much as the hands that made them. Taking one of the delicate orbs in hand you rolled it carefully, like a witch scrying with a crystal. “These are your personal stock...”

“The outlanders have been venturing into our lands. Killing our herds and all in their wake,” Kaska picked up his carving and continued to scrape out the figure hidden in the ivory horn. Every piece told a different story, fortune or ill omen. The one he carved now was a mystery, but it told him of a battle. For your people or his own Kaska was not certain. “We will not fight your war, but if you stop them all the better.”

“The enemy of my enemy. We've long been friends though, haven't we Kaska.” Giving a half grin and a dark hum you carefully lay the incendiary orb in its case. Yes, you and the old dune traveler had long been allies, if not for him and Garza you'd have been dead and long buried.

Along with so many others...

As much as the native people of Tattoine did not like off worlders, there was a symbiotic relationship at times among the common folk. Uneasy, painful, but always there. Some ethos crossed all species and language.

To defend your home.

To protect the young and the old.

Not to steal nor cheat in ones dealings.

Striding over you pulled another parcel from your satchel. Normally you didn't have the bartering items that Kaska sought, but today you would be paying him for more than just this load. Some of this was long due and it warmed your soul. “Some of this is from me and some is from Daimyo Fett.”

“These are not easy to find,” Kaska bypassed the credits and treats, instead grasping at the small container of amber gems. The glass developed slowly as the suns baked the sand, a single bead was considered a treasure. Many of his tribe exchanged these small gems on occasions of births, deaths, marriage, and even treaties. That this was included was not only generous, but also was a gesture of diplomacy. “This is gratitude?”

“This is good faith. Boba said that these should be with the people of the dunes.”

The new Daimyo sending desert glass as a sign of friendship was profound and Kaska was impressed. Rising, the old warrior gathered his things and motioned you to walk with him. As he took his mount Kaska leveled you with another long stare. And there it was, the shadow in your eyes that told him all he needed know. With a nod and a gentle nudge, Bantha and rider began the trek home. What the next dawn brought only the Suns knew.

Peli had already hitched the trailer and had her droids load the additional cargo. She was as fast and accurate as she was crazy, and really you wouldn't have your friend any other way.

“Now I know you got some... 'precious cargo' on board here,” Peli had lowered her voice while making quotations in the air. “So I took the liberty of adding some additional buffers and stabilizers to the rigging. Hey, don't give me that look! You're the one drives like a eiope with it's ass on fire.”

“The last time you took liberties I had whiplash for a week!”

Peli scoffed, “Because this baby slowed down for lack of tune up!”

“Because you forgot to mention the new cutouts!” both of you staring at the other till stern glares turned to fits of laughter. “Honestly Peli why do you stick around here? Could be running the whole new republic fleet or at least your own station.”

A cackle escaped the older woman as her wild mane of hair was thrown back, “Sweet Maker why would I want that headache? Bad enough these new Republic code enforcement snooping around, where would my profit margins go if I had to pay all those licensing fees! Naw, I was made for this place and it was made for entrepreneurs like you and me sister.”

“Well I can't argue that,” With a sad smile you gave Peli a tight squeeze, unsure when or if you would see her again. Pulling away reluctantly you straddled the speeder and began the start up sequence. Swallowing any fear down you smirked at Pele. “You just take care of yourself Miss Motto. Come visit me when the smoke clears, yeah.”

“Ah, you know I will and I'll bring the Sabac deck. Keep an eye out for anymore Fire Spray parts too,” Peli played off her worry. Wouldn't do any good anyway, situation was going to be whatever it was going to be. If she were the betting type though, the credits wouldn't be on her friend or the bounty hunter. Pikes were known to be vicious. Even as good as Fett was reputed to be... Well she could hope for the best. Never the less a friend in need was still a friend in need and let it never be said that Peli Motto was a poor friend.

Still it wasn't promising from what all she saw and knew. With that she turned and headed back into the hangar. “Alright boys breaks over! Get those parts restocked and you! Get into that oil bath before your servos burn out AGAIN!”

“You tell your spice runners that Tattoine is closed for business. This planet's seen enough violence...”

The man had guts, Bane had to admit it. Foolish but principled, such a shame. Then there was the itchy trigger finger of a deputy. Now that one was in it for the name, not the job. The marshal was the real competition, the boy was scraps. Drawing back his long coat the Duros kept his cards to the vest, “You should have never given up your armor.”

The deputy drew first, clumsily. Bane was able to down the Marshal before he leveled the other man with four well placed center shots. When the dust settled and the bodies lay crumpled on the ground, he turned to the few who dared poke their heads out. “Tattoine belongs to the Syndicate. As long as the spice keeps running, everyone will be left alone.”

Bane turned and strode to his transport, unhurried and uncaring for the destruction in his wake. He was hired for a job and he would be paid well. As his ship rose in altitude he reported in, “Vanth will no longer be a problem. Has team two reported in on the woman?”

The suns would be setting soon, admittedly Din hadn't been certain as to when the little cook would return. The fact that Shand had asked him to go looking for Ms. Manu warranted concern. So he'd flown out, skirting along the Dune Sea looking for signs of your speeder.

And a good thing he had.

“Oh that's not good,” He muttered seeing a large black plume coming from one of the mesa rims. Circling round he could see two wrecked out speeders. Going down for a landing he surveyed the tracks in the sand and the blood with them. Blue green, not human.

PING PING PING

A quick succession of fire had the Mando diving for cover. “Who's there?”

“Mr. Djarin?”

It was a weak reply from high in the rocks, but Din was able to use the helmet's internal display to zero in. “I'm here!”

“Watch out! The other one's still out there...” You were perched up in the wind hewn cliffs, out of breath but alive. There was enough for cover but just so. You'd been stuck up there for a few hours. No water, no communications. Next time you'd let Boba send someone else.

If you survived this to have a next time.

“Stay where you are I'll come to you...” Din's words were cut short as the wounded Pike soldier came raging out of the canyon wall. Dodging left and right the two beings exchanged volley after volley of blows. Din redirected the finhead into the sharp rock creating distance. To close for the whistling birds and there were two many loose cliff sheaf's for a percussive blast. Pulling the blade from his boot the Mandalorian began to slice at his opponent. Blow after blow, cut for cut the Pike was an adequate fighter.

Not good enough for the years of his training though.

Din finally had the slime back, drawing him in and grabbing his cowl. As quickly as the fight had started it was done, the Pike falling to the ground with the silver blade sticking out of it's neck. Panting for breath Din hollered up to you, “All clear.”

Scrambling down the cliffs on cramped legs was no easy feat. Shaky and stumbling you came alongside your armored savior. It could have been so much worse all things considered. “... you ok?”

“No worse for wear,” Din could see the bruising and scrapes where the blood had dried. You were upright and fighting though and that was something. “Are you alright?”

You shrugged, “Been worse. God I hope they didn't get to the payload.”

The speeder was a mess but still functional as was the trailer. Din quickly reasoned that he should fly escort at low altitude the rest of the journey as you limped the cargo home. It had been a slow, tense journey. Like prey chased to their burrow, tails between their legs.

Sputtering into the bay you relaxed as the doors came down. “Holy Kark, I need a drink and a shower... scratch that food, drink, then shower. You hungry Mr. Djarin?”

Din shook his head, “I do not eat in front of others.”

“Seriously? The least I can do is make you something.” Dusting your suit off you looked pleadingly at the man. “You saved my life, Boba would never forgive me for letting you go hungry.”

Din could see that the little woman would not take no for an answer. “I cannot remove my helmet in front of others.”

“That's why we have straws, come on I'll make you a smoothie,” Walking back to your domain of control you trusted that the odd man would follow. Washing up you tossed jorgans, pallies, mellon, and berries into a blender with blue yogurt and ice. Mr. Djarin sat dutifully at the counter waiting as you poured the concoction. Dropping an extra long straw into his, you pushed the glass across the surface. “Here's to another day on this side of the dirt...”

“They were hunting you, specifically.” angling the straw up under the armor he saw as your eyes darkened.

“Mr. Djarin...”

“Din.” He replied easily as the first sip hit his tongue. Cool, sweet and refreshing. It was more than mere confection though, there was something nutritional, filling even. Chugging half the glass he realized you had quirked a brow at the informality. “You may use my name, if you wish.”

“Very well, Din.” You smirked at the hunter. Like an onion this one, layer after layer. “And yes I know. I'm only surprised it took them this long.”

Tilting his helmet to the side, “Why?”

"Well, let's just say... the Mayor doesn't like me."

“Ner Me'suum'ika?” Boba stormed into the kitchen. Fennec had called once you were found. He'd flown the Slave I over the south basin three times searching when you hadn't returned. Boba cursed himself a fool for ever letting you leave, for not going with you. He was going to cuff you to the bed and that was final. No more leaving the Palace till this was finished, no going on the balcony where you could be sniped. He wanted you safe, damn it. With a rumbling sigh of displeasure at your state, he was also relieved for your safety. “Are you injured?”

“I'm fine,” You tried to keep smiling as he looked you over. At his grumbling you shrugged guiltily. “A little scratched up, but thanks to your friend, I'm safe.”

“I'll be the judge of that, come on.” With a nod you sighed and headed toward the tower dutifully. Turning back to Djarin, Boba gave a nod. “Thank you.”

“Gar riduur, kaysh kar'ta hettir.” Din rose to retire for the evening, clapping the older man on the shoulder bell. “Gar Aliit et kotyc.”

“Tug'yc, vor entye” Boba couldn't help the slight smirk at Djarins words. He was proud of you, frustrated by your stubbornness but proud. It wasn't till he was removing his armor for the night that the title the other Mandalorian used for you struck him.

His riduur...

Translations (Mando'a unless otherwise annotated):

Finhead and Slime Back- Derogitory terms to refer to fish species; completely made up but comon tongue... Eh sue me.

Gar riduur, kaysh kar'ta hettir- your spouse, their heart burns

Gar Aliit et kotyc- Your clan is strong

Tug'yc- again

Vor entye- thank you

Ner Me'suum'ika- my moon

E chu ta!- (huttese)- shit/damn/crap/etc

Tags: @the-rain-on-kamino @pickleprickle @daimyosprincess @kimiheartblade @acatalystrising

#star wars #boba fett #tbob #boba fett x oc #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x reader #Drash the Mod #din djarin #peli motto #fennec shand #OC kaylee manu #Boba x Kaylee #cad bane #cobb vanth #biscuits and beskar series #B&B series #OC Kaska the Tuskin

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