#not to be confused with @krissology jate'kara which is superb

[generalfoolish]

Jate'kara

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: lots of bad space language, talk of Bo-Katan and Death Watch, sleazy g-pa Greef

Word count: ~2K

Pairing: (eventually!!!) Din Djarin x F!reader

Summary: A Mandalorian is searching for Mando.

A/N: Hey babes! This is number four of the #mandomay2021 prompt list. I promise they'll keep being longer! Enjoy 💕

Masterlist | Aru'e | Cyare’se

Piloting in hyperspace didn’t require you to interact with the controls. For longer flights, this allowed you to sleep and recharge. But on this flight, you longed for something to do with your hands. You were jittery. You couldn’t sleep. You could only pace. Zek’s words crashed around in your mind. You had left Echi there, with a stale promise on your lips to return. He had slowly shaken his head in disagreement and muttered that it wasn’t your jate’kara. You had only scoffed, your destiny was what you made it.

Except in the deafening silence of hyperspace, the crushing truth was suffocating. You had long decided that your jate’kara was to die fighting the Empire. You had mused and waited, hunted and paced, you were tired of plotting. You would give your life, gladly, to see even one Imp fall.

Why did it have you reeling now?

It was the covert. You told yourself. Placating and smoothing the crinkles that so much life had created. Beyond Echi, you hadn’t talked to another soul in ages. You were well and alone. However, now, you had a place. Zek had offered, insisted, and almost begged, you to stay. They needed more hands for foundlings, they needed more income to sponsor them. The group had moved from Zanbar after a deadly battle had broken out, and there had been no shortage of orphans in the wake.

You had turned the offer over more than you wanted to admit. You had stayed the night. You shared their meals, their home. They were far from the reaches of Mandalore, and they seemed free to live without the stifling rules you had known on Krownest. You had felt seen and accepted there. They didn’t even notice your armor. Their kindness reminded you of your own covert.

You wouldn’t have fit in. Your darkness would have been their destruction, your inner voice reprimanded. You shuddered the thought down. The images of prone children, faceless for their helmets with pools of blood gathering underfoot, were too quick. You fisted your eyes, rubbing your knuckles in harshly.

Before you knew it, the children were your own. The destruction of your own covert. Your buir crawling to his blaster, stopped with a crack from another faceless stormtrooper. You gasped and tried to think of anything else. There was nothing else. Only death, and the lull of deep space. You tried to calm your breathing. It only worked marginally, the panic attack at bay, but the paralyzing fear still lingering.

A shrill ping brought you back to life. You made your way over to the panel, and dropped from hyper. The ping was a message, a holo sent from an informant, and the message was simple: go to Nevarro. You wondered what good the volcanic planet would be to you. You drummed your fingers against the datapad, before punching in the coordinates to the port on Nevarro. All you knew was that there had been a Guild on the planet, but you didn’t know much else.

With no other leads, you hoped that the Guild might have a puck or a location on some of the men you sought. It was close to Mandalore, too close to not have ties, so the locals might not immediately view you as a danger.

The T Visor of your helmet stared back at you, your reflection searching the inky wells and finding nothing. The helmet was the most important piece of armor, it protected you the most, but you couldn’t help but feel separate from it. You felt stripped every time you took it off, and you wondered how much of your humanity was retained when you slid the metal in place. You hoped most of it, but you knew it was likely none.

~

You maneuvered your ship down, a ring of dust blurring your windshield. Volcanic planet, indeed. You made your way through the streets quickly. The main street appeared to be under construction, and you wondered why they would bother. The whole city seemed on the brink of falling in on itself. You found the market easily, and veered opposite it. You had expected the town’s leader would be across from the most populous spot, and right you were. You crossed the open threshold, and looked around.

“Ah, here for Mando?” The human woman was leaning over some paperwork, but sat up straight when she saw you. You tilted your head slightly, but remained silent.

“Sheriff Dune, at your service. Who’re you?” The woman’s short hair curled into her eyes, but she swept them back with a broad hand. You noticed her bulging arms under her long sleeves. She was far from just a sheriff. You had no idea why you were sent here, or who you were actually looking for. You decided to take the chance. Mando, short for Mandalorian?

“Yes, Sheriff Dune. I’m looking for Mando.” She stretched her lips in a thin line and nodded.

“Your business with him?” You swore her eyes narrowed as she spoke. She was friendly with this one. You worked fast to think through a sufficient lie. A mandalorian not sharing his name would likely be a bounty hunter, and of course, the guild was on Nevarro, not too far from Mandalore. You needed more information, but you could work with what you had so far.

“Heard he was the best, and I need some help tracking someone down.” You released the stance you held, to look more at ease, and tried to lighten your voice to a self-deprecating tone. You hoped she would buy it. It was plausible enough.

You didn’t worry long. She visibly relaxed.

“He’s off world at the moment. Want me to send him a holo?” You tensed back up, and paused. You had no message for him. Dank farrick, you didn’t know if he was even who you were searching for. Cara seemed to pick up on that.

“I’ll just ping him, tell him Greef needs him back.” She waved it off, and disappeared behind a door. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think. What if he was Death Watch? What if he was with...you swallowed it. You couldn’t afford to think about that. If he was against you, you’d deal with it when the time came. You had handled yourself against mandalorians before, and not that you were itching for that fight, you could do it again.

“You always wear that bucket?” Cara asked as she walked back in. Your mind raced again. The lies piling on, the hole you were digging seemingly too far to return from.

“Only if I want to put it on again.” You told her, terse. She nodded, and chuckled.

“Yeah, you and Mando will get along fine. He’s only a few hours out. You caught him on a return trip.” You swallowed hard, knowing that the metal would hide your nervousness.

“Good. Guild?” You asked, not knowing anything else to add. She nodded.

“Karga, got a guild member up front. Another bucket head.” She flashed a grin at you, and slumped down heavily into her chair.

“Welcome to Nevarro! What can I do for you?” A darker human entered, holding his arms far apart. You knew the tactic, he was afraid of mandalorians.

“I’m looking for someone.” You started slowly, hoping to gain more information than you lost.

“Not really my expertise.” He raised his hands in a shrug.

“No, I’m wondering if you have any Imp pucks?” You asked, hoping to cut through the game.

“You guild?” Crik. You hadn’t thought about the guild requiring status. No sense in lying here.

“No.”

“Doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid.” You bite your cheek. Hard. Hard enough to draw blood. Anything to keep from grinding your teeth more.

“You can keep the bounty.” You reasoned, hoping he was greedy.

“Like I said,” he glanced at Cara who was doing a bad job at hiding her interest. “Doesn’t work like that.” Greedier. Great, you thought.

“I’ll pay you for the puck, and you keep the bounty. I’m assuming you do have a puck.” You had struck a chord.

“It’s an Imperial job, and I can give you the chain code.” You nodded at him, and brought your vambrace up, ready for input. He was silent. You raised your helmet to him, and he shook his head.

“I can’t. It feels...wrong now.” You ground your teeth down hard enough to make your jaw click. The sooner this Mando was here, the sooner you could blast a hole through this Karga.

“Who is it on?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Bo-Katan. She helped Mando, and well, seems wrong sending another one of you after her.” You dropped your arm, not caring if your hand was played. It couldn’t be true.

“Bo-Katan? The mandalorian?” You asked, the modulator picking up your shock with ease.

“Yes, she is not an enemy here.” Dank farrick.

“She fought with us. I can’t believe you even thought about it, Greef.” Cara reprimanded, but you barely registered it. You were spinning out.

“I...I have no quarrels with Bo-Katan.” You told them, hoping they heard the sincerity. “I...I’m sorry, is there a covert here?” They looked at each other before looking at you.

“It was destroyed.” Cara told you gently. It felt like too much. “I can show you.” You nodded numbly, and followed behind her through the dusty streets. She took you to a tattered curtain, and you slipped in.

“I’ll send Mando here when he arrives.” Cara told you, her tone more concerned than anything. You nodded tightly and disappeared down the concrete steps. When you were away from the landing you tugged your helmet off and threw it against the wall. The beskar clanged loudly against it, but it tumbled to the ground unharmed. You cursed under your breath at yourself, and grabbed it to inspect the paint. As expected, there was a gash under the eye, where the black had chipped away. The silver shining through broke what was left of your resolve.

“Bo-criking-Katan? Who is this guy?” You grumbled and collapsed to the floor. Dust swirled up and around you, and you couldn’t help but think of Jeculan. The swirling snow had been beautiful. Echi had bounded through it easily, hunting for some unsuspecting prey. You laughed, you had released a menace on that planet. You wondered what Zek was doing, and how the foundlings were liking playing with their new pet. Your lie wasn’t unsustainable. You could keep the helmet on, that wasn’t a problem. But you didn’t know enough about the Death Watch to play pretend with a member. If Mando was in bed with Bo-Katan, they’d kill you before you made it off this crikking dusty planet. You laid your head back, and rolled your neck. You hadn’t even got any leads from the guild guy, what was his name, Karga?

You groaned and looked around. You hadn’t noticed at first, but the covert was wrecked. The clan living here had left in a hurry. Cara had said it was destroyed. You wondered if they had lived in secret, like some. You wondered about the foundlings who would have made their way here. You wondered about this Mando.

Not the most original, you scoffed. Mando the Mandalorian? You supposed it would be helpful in bounty hunting to be nameless, but a fake name would have inspired more fear.

You were so entranced in your own thoughts that you hadn’t heard the footsteps ringing down the steps. You barely registered a man clearing his throat. You whipped your head around to face him before you thought about it; before you remembered to put on your helmet. He turned his head quickly, and you realized your mistake. You slid your helmet down into place, and you mumbled an apology.

“You’re Mando?” He nodded tightly, turning to face you again. Your heart was seizing with fear. You had seen other mandalorians, you knew that they could be broad, even massive. The armor helped. But Mando seemed giant, looming over you, no paint, glinting in the dusty sunlight.

“Cara said you needed me?” He sounded tired. You felt, even amidst your fear, guilty for this.

“I’m looking for someone, but I didn’t realize that…” You fell off, not sure how to continue. He waited, his head tilting slightly when you hadn’t continued after a moment. “You were with Bo-Katan.” His helmet seemed to tilt further over.

“What does this have to do with her?” He asked, a hand landing on his hip.

“Nothing, actually. I just don't want her attention.” He snorted, and held his hand out. You took it, and he helped you to your feet.

“I’m not with her. I’m actually trying to stay as far from her as possible. Who are you after?” He asked softly. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Imps.”

**Translations

Jate'kara: destiny, luck

Crik: expletive

Dank farrick: expletive