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marierg · 1 year ago

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Biscuits and Beskar: 3

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC Kaylee Manu

Rating: PG-13 (just for the last little tense parts and the action)

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, language, mentions of past traumas, SNAKE!, semi nakedness, naughty-ish thoughts, TENSION. No actual naughtiness or schmexy-ness but lots of thoughts running wild.

A/N: I apologize now, I know I'm not writing very fast but I hope what comes out is worth the wait. I wanted to give these two a few little moments but also I wanted the Pike incursion to be felt. I have given names to a few of the characters we know. The Gamorean guards are Ro and Weem and the Rancor handler is Vol (pronounced Val). Our girl Kaylee grew up on a star cruise liner (think Princess cruise) and I picture her having been around entertainers and dancers a lot as a kid. One of whom I picture as a very young Jimmy Buffet.

PS- Kaylee is a shit magnet (doesn't mean to find trouble, it just seems to find her) and a klutz. Lots of heart and spirit, but lots of boo boos. Lets just say I hope that the Daimyo's insurance is good.

Words: 4700ish

Song credit: Come Monday by the great Jimmy Buffet! (Don't tell me Margaritaville doesn't exist in Star Wars)

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“PAPA!”

You woke in a cold sweat, hands scrubbing the last of the horrible memory away. You could still see him, hear his last words.

“Free men built this galaxy and free men will have their day again.”

Celsus Manu had died as he lived, bravely standing for what he believed. How many souls had he smuggled on those cruises, how many had Papa saved from a fate worse than death? To be bound to a life of forced servitude until their very spirit extinguished even while their bodies remained.

Nothing could have saved him that day though. The shots ringing in your ears...

Heading down to the kitchen you pulled your robe tight. At each of the dormitory doors you paused to listen, just to be sure the sand scrappers slept well. Turbo was still recovering from the crash to catch that slug majordomo that was sleeping in the dungeon. And it was right where the slemo belonged. It had shaken you to see the boy hurt. The little motley crew was all that you had, and now you could count two hunters to that small group. The Daimyo had done something you couldn't, seeing the kids well cared for, it pleased you beyond words. Starting a kettle you heard Ratty boop and beep as he popped around the corner, following you like a shadow.

There was a balcony just off the hall between the throne room and your domain. It was peaceful there, with not but the wind off the dunes and canyons to break the silence. Sipping your tea there was another sound that came not from the vast wilderness, but the tower above. A shadowy figure moving in smooth, controlled motions. You couldn't help to wonder what specifically caused the Daimyo to be up at this hour?

Then again what wouldn't, given the mess at hand. Finishing your tea you rose, patting the little droid on the head. Glancing again to the tower above you went back to the kitchen and pulled out another mug, “Ratty would you be so kind as to deliver something for me?”

The gaffii's weight was a comfort in his hands as Boba moved about the floor. It was a steadfast and strong weapon, it served him well. The dreams had returned with a vengeance causing many a restless night. Practicing always acted as a bit of a balm. People say that time heals, Boba always thought it a foolish saying. No what healed was not simply time, it was affection, closeness, family. The Tuskins had taken him in, made him part of the tribe. They had given him much needed perspective after years of burying himself in hunting.

Years of running from his past... of ignoring the pain.

Boba was a different man than the one who had been swallowed by the Sarlacc. He had done his job and done it well, hoping to be as good a hunter as his father if not better. Jango had once told him that the more proficient he became the more he could pick and choose the jobs he took, but even Jango wouldn't have been able to avoid the Empire. Those hunts were never satisfying, the quarry rarely worth the price on their head.

Boba's philosophy was much like Jango's; he did the job, he got paid, end of contract. Even still Boba regretted parts of his past. He wondered sometimes what had happened to his daughter, if Ailyn ever thought of him. He had stayed away to keep her safe and maybe that was how it should stay. Hearing a tap at the door his attention shifted. He hadn't send for anyone, “Yes?"

Crossing the floor he opened the portal to find no one, just a tray with a cup of tea and a piece of flimsy. Cautiously picking up the mug Boba read the fine scrawl.

You should get some rest.

Seems he wasn't the only one awake. Taking a sip of the herbal tea he could faintly taste the black melon that was part of the brew. A faint smirk crossed his face. Boba sometimes wondered how you actually felt about him, good or bad. You were ever a puzzle, keeping well behind the curtain of formality yet still doing small kindnesses like this. Something a friend would do for another. Maybe you were waiting for him to seek you out? He hummed at that thought, sipping on the warm decoction. Whatever the case he still felt glad of your presence, even if it was from arms length. “Dral runi.”

“Skad aren't you all supposed to be patrolling?” You looked over the middle counter to where the young man was hovered over his breakfast.

Finishing a bite of hash the scamp nodded at you. “Jus' waiting on Nikita and that Gamorean, Ro, to get back.”

“And here we are,” Nikita strutted in followed by Ro, who grunts at you. The other Gamorean, Weem, was with Drash in the hangar taking a delivery.

Turning to the counter where dishes are drying you gesture to them. “Get some food you two and tell Vol to come eat too.”

Vol never came up until after he had seen to the Rancor. He was a quiet man, said only what was necessary, had a hard edge about him. He was considerate in his own way though, you'd seen him a few times help the kids here and there. But mostly he kept his own company and you respected that. As your thoughts wandered a favorite tune came over the speaker, a smile spread on your face as the old sweet song brought back happier times. Reaching over you raised the volume.

“Oh no,” Skad tried to make a run for it.

“Oh yes.” Grabbing the boy's hand you start to dance and sing. It was something you'd done with Papa in the kitchen growing up. For a moment when you moved across the floor you thought maybe he was there, laughing with you. Most of the kids would dance along when this would happen, knew which songs you loved.

Fennec had gotten back to the Palace when it was still dark, her head buzzing. Whether it was from Fwip's hospitality or the lovely female whose warm bed she had shared was undetermined. What a sweet distraction it had been though. Fennec stepped into the kitchen, an amused chuckle escaping her. You were twirling around and dancing with one of the Gamoreans, looking over to her with a puckish grin. “Don't even think it cookie.”

You rolled your eyes and instead went to the counter to retrieve a Bloody Mary. Handing the drink to the master assassin you continue singing.

“...Come Taungsday it'll be alright. Come Taungsday I'll be holding you tight. I spent four lonely days in a brown Bespin haze and I just want you back by my side.”

Fennec took a sip of the drink and couldn't help smirking at your flirtations. “Sweetheart I would eat you alive.”

“Hmm but what a way to go...” Making a flirting face you swayed your hips to the music.

Bumping hips with Fennec you threw a towel over your shoulder to get back to work. The assassin had a wicked sense of humor you found. A sense of humor that struck in the form of your belt loop getting hooked to pull you to her side. Fennec tutted you like a naughty child, “Ah ah ah, the song's not over cookie.”

She tugged, guiding your movements while holding her drink in the other. You continued to sing and sway as the song hit the last chorus. Fennec tapped her fingers under your chin then stepped away as the final chords rang. You laughed and felt genuinely happy, feeling safe enough to let down your guard. Which was funny if you thought on it... feeling safe in the palace of the Daimyo of Tattoine. Looking at Fennec's smug face you couldn't help but be a little bit of a brat, “Such a tease Mistress Shand.”

Fennec smirked, glancing back at the hallway, “Oh, you have no idea...”

Boba had stepped back where you couldn't see him, still watching you. Observing as you joined his second in command at the table, making notes on your data pad. It annoyed him that Fennec would toy with you like some dancing girl. Walking into the kitchen he saw you look up at him with a small smile.

“Good morning.” Tracking as he moved to sit at the head of the table by Fennec. You take a fortifying breath, kark you were tired. “Omelet with bacon for the Daimyo or just toast and coffee like this one?”

“Careful cookie, remember who's in charge.” Fennec gives you a light warning. There's no real threat behind it, especially with how she saw Boba looking at you. What these two needed was a solid nudge, still now may not be the time. “By the by, Garsa was asking about you.”

“How's she doing?” You ask concerned. Moving to the buffet you started making up plates and readying the omelet pan.

“Just fine, the Sanctuary was booming last night.”

“And I bet Troy was the bartender,” You smirked at her expression as you passed her a plate of hash. “They have a heavy pour and always work race days, better tips.”

Boba watched as you bustled around making his plate. He was used to eating rations and quick meals on the fly, not often indulging in the slow enjoyment of a meal. It was something that he was still not used to. As you placed the plate and utensils down he glanced to where you sat, keeping his tone even, “You're not eating?”

“No.. I'm...” a flush rose in your cheeks as the man looked at you. Something in those eyes that saw too much. Swallowing thickly you tried to find your words again, “I'll eat later.”

“You should eat,” Boba tilted his head, suspecting that you had never returned to your quarters after making his tea. He gave a slight waive of his hand, “Please.”

“Yes Lord Fett,” Grabbing another plate you put an egg on a slice of toast and refilled your Kaf cup. His gaze was on you like a warm summer sun until you took that first bite. Glancing over you saw the man's lips turn up just slightly as he ate his meal. “I hope it's to your liking.”

“Quite good, thank you.” Boba could think of a few things he'd like to consume much better. Still he did not want to startle or distress, you always appeared flustered when he was near. There were more pressing matters that his mind needed to tend to, business always before pleasure. “Did the prisoner receive a meal.”

“Yes Lord Fett.” Rolling your eyes and giving a grunt, your tone was flatly annoyed.

Well that was a first he thought. “You don't much care for the majordomo?”

“Not particularly,” you bit out the words as though you had swallowed a bug.

Boba gave a huff of a laugh at that. So you had a temper.

“Anyone willing to deal with the Pikes is a damn fool,” Lips hovering on your mug you dared look the Daimyo in the eye, “But while also attempting to assassinate the new Daimyo... dead man walking.”

Boba couldn't help give a slight nod at that, even if his pride was a tad hurt. And foolish he had been, so distracted by his dealings with the syndicate so certain of the profits. All while his tribe was massacred by that speeder gang. But that was then, this was now. “At least he was smart enough to give me the information.”

You huffed, mind turning to more immediate concerns. The rotation on security had changed again, but most of all no audiences. “I didn't see anything on the schedule today.”

Boba didn't raise his head to reply, “Nothing worth mention.”

“Is that why you were awake?” You shouldn't poke the bear, you really shouldn't poke the bear.

Boba looked up from his omelet, seeing the softness of your eyes. You were concerned and curious. “Cleaning up messes.”

“Putting out fires,” You kept your tone easy as you pulled up your data pad to show a message from a friend in Mos Eisley. Partly about parts for your speeder and partly about an increase in unfriendly traffic. “Those fin heads are coming Lord Fett.”

Fennec watched you two dance around one another like a pair of tookas. She knew you had an edge to you, most did living on the outer rim. It did amuse her that you were finally relaxing around them enough to let your teeth show. “No need to worry your pretty head Cookie.”

“They're blood thirsty little piranhas.” You well remembered problems with them during the drought years. How ruthless they could be towards people who couldn't pay their protection.

“Yes but they can occasionally be dealt with,” Fennec kept a calm tone, watching you.

“Rather it ended quickly so that people could get back to living. But what do I know,” Tone low and sad you got up and headed to the sink, tone sharper than intended. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

“Cookie...” Fennec sighed taking a last drink. “I'm going to town, comm if you need anything.”

“Fennec, be careful.” You watched as she gave you a nod and left. Your thoughts were dark, grumbling in your throat you scrubbed harder at the last of the dishes. You hadn't meant to be moody, it was not like you at all. “I'm sorry...”

“For what?”

You jumped not realizing he had come up behind you. You were so startled that you dropped a glass. The shards sliced your finger, not badly but enough to be annoying. “Shit.”

“Here,” Boba started the faucet, placing your hand under it. “I didn't mean to...”

“No it's... I should be more careful.” Keeping your head down you weren't sure if you could meet his gaze. “I shouldn't have snapped.”

“I think Fennec will survive,” Boba could see your face flushing as he sprayed some bacta on your hand. His tone turning soft, a rarity, but you seemed to bring that out. “There, doesn't look bad.”

“Thank you,” You tried not to stammer as his hands held yours, strong and larger than your own. Glancing up to meet his gaze you almost froze, “Lord Fett.”

“Boba,” He smirked and raised your hand to his lips, giving a light brush of his lips to your knuckles. “My name is Boba.”

“Boba,” you nodded dumbly as he slowly released your hand.

“Kaylee,” Boba inclined his head to you.

Your heart thundered in your ears. Watching as he gestured for you to sit again. He nodded for you to at least finish your Kaf and so the two of you sat like that for a time. It was companionable, without the need to fill the silence.

Boba waited till you had relaxed again, speaking quietly so not to startle. “The tea last night, you put black melon milk in it.”

“Helps settle the nerves,” you shrugged sipping at your drink and not quite looking at Boba. It was such a short name for a man who cast such a large shadow. “and I didn't want to waste the melon on just my tea.”

Boba hummed at that. “And what is it that keeps you awake Kaylee?”

“Things better left in the past...”

“I over stepped...” then he felt your small hand take his own, just holding it lightly.

“S'alright. My Papa would say that honesty is good for the soul.” You sigh with a sad little smile, “Sometimes memories aren't always pleasant and come when we least want them.”

“He sounds like a wise man.”

Patting his hand you study the inside of your mug, tone a little bitter sweet, “He was.”

Screaming and several squeals rang through the halls of the Palace, causing both of you to jump. Boba got to the throne room first. There was Ro, Weem, and Drash standing next to an ornate wood box on the floor. Nikita stood frozen several steps away, a dune sea asp staring her down. The large serpent baring its fangs at the girl.

“Don't move, be still.” Boba began to approach the viper his helmet display lighting up trying to target the creature. It was just too close, still in range to strike the girl before he could shoot.

“Fuck!” Drash could shoot herself for accepting the damn shipment, it was her fracking fault it should be her. “Nikita it's gonna be ok. I swear it'll be ok.”

Nikita cried silently, tears trailing her cheeks as she tried to remain still.

“Nikita cat, look at me sweetie.” Stars and maker help you, no please don't let this happen. Your heart was in your throat and you wanted to scream. But that wouldn't help any, “'Kita Cat, come on look at me, look at me.”

The young woman glanced at you finally getting her eyes off the snake.

“Good girl, just... you remember what we used to say? When you kids would hide,” you stepped just a bit closer holding out a hand as if to grasp hers, “Far and away we won't be afraid. Just keep your eyes on me.”

“Far and away we won't be afraid. Far and away we won't be afraid...” the girl whispered the words over and over still looking at you.

“Good, keep her calm,” The snake was a message, a very clear one meant for him. Boba knew the asp could kill with its fangs as well as blind and maim by spitting its venom. If he could get the snake to go for him instead the armor would protect him.

“Mama Kay,” the high pitched terror in Nikita's voice ripped you in two, “I don't wanna die.”

“Kark it...” Swallowing hard you got ready to do something really stupid. You had given your word to protect the kids and that was one thing you would not break. Even if their parents were long dead, you had given your word. “Drash get to the drop switch.”

Boba's helmet turned to you, gut dropping to his boots. “What are you...”

Throwing a dish rag at the snake you ran between it and Nikita. The snake hissed furiously and slithered fast as lightning forward to strike at you. “Now Drash!”

“Haar'chak!” The floor went out, sending you to the rancor pit. Boba shot the viper, spraying it with the flame thrower for good measure after. His temper flared, how could you be so foolish? Looking over at Nikita she appeared no worse for wear, Drash had her well in hand. Angrily striding across the room he barked at the Gamoreans, “Clean up this mess! And find out where that came from.”

It was dark, barely any light came down from above. You could hear Drash though, sounding more like the scared girl you had first met and less the confident young woman you knew. “Mama Kay?!”

“I'm alright,” It was a huge lie. Your leg hurt, kark it hurt so bad. It had been a longer drop than you thought and you had heard crunch on landing. This job was getting more and more hazardous to your health. “Ahhhh!”

“Raaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

“Oh dank....” looking around the dark beady eyes of the Rancor met your own. The breath froze in your lungs, body throbbing in pain as the ground vibrated with its roar.

The beast uncurled from where it slept coming to a crouch over you. It's lumbering head turning this way and that studying the new visitor. One large clawed hand came to paw roughly at your hurt leg.

“Hrrgg...” You couldn't help grunting in pain, but the large animal didn't move to harm you further, just studying you. It's large head lowering to sniff and snort, drool falling from it's large fangs. Vol had said that Rancors could be quite sweet. Reaching up to stroke the big beasts muzzle, it huffed a high pitched sound and blinked at you. “You... you like that? Ok we can... we can do that.”

“Open the cage.” Boba kept his voice low, striding into the dark space carefully. While he was confident the beast would not harm him, he did not wish to place you in further danger by startling it. He could hear the deep grunts of the Rancor's breathing, but couldn't see you. “Kaylee?”

“Down here,” it came out pained. You continue stroking and cooing at the rancor, trying to keep calm. In all honesty if your leg weren't on fire this would be infinitely enjoyable “Whose the most fearsome rancor? Such a tough looking fella, just a big sweetie aren't you? Yes you are, yes you are! The best boy aren't you.”

Boba crossed his arms over his chest tilting his helmet to the side. He wasn't sure which outweighed the other, his anger at your reckless behavior or the amusement of seeing you treat the Rancor like a massif puppy. “Miss Manu, you are a hazard to yourself.”

“I'm in no position to disagree,” Glancing to the side and giving a weak grimace you could tell the man was steamed, voice turning sheepish, “It was dumb. I know it was dumb. Please don't fire me... Gaaahh!”

The Rancor accidentally brushed your leg again sending pain shooting. Nausea rose in your throat and your breathing came in little gasps. Oh it was definitely broke.

“Alright boy, easy now go to Vol.” Boba patted the beast and directed it to where the handler stood in the corner. The beast whined and lumbered off, giving him a clear look at the damage. Boba scooped you up easily, carrying you silently up the tower. Partially he was silent to let you stew a little, you deserved that a bit for scaring him. A deeper part of him though simply wanted to absorb the feeling of you in his arms again. The way your chest rose and fell as you breathed, the soft curves of your body in his hands. How you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and neck.

“I'm sorry.” He heard you whisper.

You were toast, so freaking toast. Closing your eyes as Boba walked with you up the stairs, head laying in the crook of his neck, tears fell. It had been nice while it lasted, shouldn't have gotten used to it anyway, maybe Garsa would let you moonlight again. At least Nikita was safe and the kids were cared for, Boba would see to them even if you weren't here. All the worst thoughts running through your mind. You didn't realize at first where the big man had placed you down.

“It's going to hurt when this boot comes off,” Boba's temper had eased seeing the tear stains on your cheeks, you wouldn't even look at him just keeping your eyes down. Taking his gloves off and placing them in his helmet to the side, Boba used just the tips of his fingers to raise your head. Your lip quivered and his face softened. Giving you a ghost of a smile he gently stroked your jaw. “Who would make me tea if you left, hmm? Just have to keep you around... though I may have to take away anything sharp from the kitchen.”

Snorting at the joke you let out a shuddering breath, relief flooded your body. Giving him a weak smile and wincing as he eased the boot off. “Thank you, Boba.”

“Lay back mesh'la, this is not going to be pleasant.”

“Pain I'm used too,” A droid came over and scanned you. Boba cut into your pants-leg exposing the area. The droid gave you a shot of medication and with a few quick movements reset the limb. Even with the drugs it hurt like a mother kriffer.

“Fuuuuuck!”

“Here drink this,” Handing you a glass of whiskey he watched as you downed the amber liquid without a flinch. The droid had suggested putting you in the tank, but Boba watched as you shook your head no. He assisted in the removal of your coveralls, you wore simple small clothes beneath. The droid placed bacta wraps on your leg and a splint, finally leaving you be. He couldn't help noticing you relax when it left. “Rest now Kaylee, you're safe here.”

It would be so easy to get lost in those tigers eyes of his, to forget your place. The man was dangerous... very, very dangerous to you. Because you trusted him so readily, believed when he told you it was safe. You had seen too many dancing girls fall for the crime lords, officers and tycoons on the cruiser growing up. Even here in Mos Espa, you knew that it was a fairy tale. As you continued to hold his gaze, your brain had finally registered where it was he had brought you. The silk sheets, the quiet wind off the dunes, the warm spicy scent.

The man had placed you in his own bed.

You should run to your room this instant, broken leg or no. You felt far too much for the man to begin with but now... The seductive feeling of the soft bed beneath you as he gazed down was just too much. The slide of the material against the bared skin of your body, the way you wanted his scent to linger. Stars he had barely touched you to help get your clothes off, but you never wanted his hands to leave.

Oh, there be danger here. Shaking your head you tried to get back to reality, “I should go...”

“No.”

Boba placed a finger to your lips pausing your words and giving you a stern look. His fingers eased down your lips to your neck, watching as you swallowed hard. A faint smile tugged at his lips as his fingers finally came to press against your collar bones to make you lay back. He didn't miss as the goose flesh rose, nor your pupils dilating.

It all made sense to him now. The way you shied away, the nervousness, the little smiles. You liked him, in some small way you felt something for him. Boba relished as part of this puzzle finally fit. He would let you lead this little chase of theirs, because in the end he knew he would win. First things first though, “Rest Kaylee.”

You shivered as he placed the blankets over you, methodical and deliberately keeping eye contact. As his hand slid down the material you took hold of it. He didn't pull away, simply letting you hold his hand. Calluses and scars from a lifetime of work, a strong and even lethal grace to their dexterity. All that you could tell from the touch of his hand. Your tone was a whisper and some small part of you knew you should still run. But your heart had ever been the foolish sort and there was something there in the gruffness, the controlled tone. A sadness in his eyes that called to you. “I'm sorry if I scared you.”

“I don't frighten, cyar'ika.” He tilted his head, such a perceptive little thing. This woman so wise beyond her years. Soft yet strong, and so very sweet. A tough little cookie. He brushed his thumb affectionately over your palm before placing it on your stomach. “Close your eyes Kaylee, sleep.”

“Yes Boba.” The pain medication had been lulling you there already, but it was his deep tenor that made you obey the command. Your last thought before sleep took hold was how nicely your name fell from his lips.

Boba watched you, only for a moment to be sure that you were comfortable. Rangir, who was he trying to fool? He may as well admit that it pleased that hungry part him to see you laying in his bed. Seeing your soft body wrapped in his sheets as a faint smile curved those plush lips. Next time though it would be different, you would be here of your own choosing. Next time you would beg him to stay.

Rising he replaced his gloves and tucked his helmet under his arm. Pausing to glance down on you one more time. “Nuhoy jahaala Kaylee, jate vercopa.”

Translations:

Dral runi- Bright Soul

Cyar'ika- Sweetheart

Mesh'la- Beautiful

Haar'chak- Damn it!

Rangir- To hell with it

Nuhoy jahaala, jate vercopa- Sleep well, good dreams

Tags: @acatalystrising @pickleprickle @daimyosprincess @kimiheartblade

#Biscuits and Beskar #boba fett x oc #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett #the book of boba fett fanfiction #the book of boba fett #star wars tbobf #tbobf #sw tbobf #OC Kaylee Manu #Boba Fett X OC Kaylee Manu

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singsofecho · 5 months ago

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HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO JANGO FETT AND ALSO JASTER MEREEL AND ALSO PAPA FETT AND ALSO DIN DJARIN AND ALSO PAZ VIZSLA AND ALSO KAL SKIRATA AND ALSO ALRICH WREN AND ALSO-

#song being loud #father's day #literally mando dads are sooooo #gotta be one of my favorite genders

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amorfista · 1 year ago

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AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! THIS IS SO GOOD!! THANKS AGAIN 😩🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️

Ever wondered how Crosshair got his name?

#I swear to god I'm about to explode #These are all so good how the heck had I not seen them before #Cross you're a precious little cactus #Papa Jango being an absolute cinnamon roll #Hfjdjsjsbssjsjj #star wars #clone wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #jango fett

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the-black-swan-paracosm · 1 year ago

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Star Wars fanfic idea

(Oh, please, please, please write this. Send me the link, I beg you)

Jango Fett’s twin brother, Janga.

Papa Fett was bad at naming his kids.

Arla and Mama Fett died of a plague two years prior to Jaster squatting in their field

—

“Jango-“

“I’m Janga. Jang-ah. Ah.” The twin emphasized.

—

Y’all I read so many Industrial Revolution Song of Fire and Ice fanfiction that I thought, “Hmmm, let’s make it Star Wars but with Mandalorian armor and saves Manda’yaim with economics and wit.”

—

Possible beginning chapter:

The planet Concord Dawn where the Fetts were born…and their family died…

Decades ago, the mercenary group known as the Mandalorians fractured, giving rise to a chaotic splinter group. They called themselves “Death Watch” and filled a barbarian called Vizsla, who believed that the Mandalorians should conquer the galaxy.

Vizsla orchestrated a bloody coup against the true Mandalorians, still loyal to a reformed murderer and journeyman named Jaster Mereel, who believed that the Mandalorians were merely highly-paid soldiers.

On Concord Dawn, Death Watch scattered the Mandalorians…and a hunt began…

“You can’t escape me, Jaster! I’ll burn all your hiding places to the ground and execute anyone who helps you! And when you have nowhere left to run, I’ll have your head!” Vizsla swore while Jaster and his surviving men retreated into a field that provided cover with the tall harvest.

Mereel and his men came across a farmer at the heart of the field.

The farmer dropped his basket and grabbed the rifle resting nearby. Mereel raised his hands away from his blasters.

“Please, we aren’t here to rob or harm you. We just need shelter until the next rotation’s nightfall.” Mereel pleaded. His men kept their blasters holstered or lowered in deference to their leader.

The farmer stared Mereel down with his rifle, never wavering from the weak point in the Mando’s armor at his neck. The farmer must have heard the honesty in Jaster’s plea or seen something in his body language because he lowers his blaster.

“You lot will stay hidden in the field. You,” the Farmer nodded his head at Jaster, “I have food I’m willing to give to you and your men for the night and tomorrow morning. After that you’re on your own. This fields harvest ain’t ready for another month so don’t kriff with my plants!” The farmer stared down each of Mereel’s men, challenging them to try it and find out what will happen.

“Keep quiet, too.” The Farmer carried on, “I have twin sons that are too damn curious, each with their own blaster rifles. They shot the last squatters in our fields, so either make noise and take your chances or be quiet and survive.”

The True Mandalorians solemnly nod, increasingly regretting their encounter with this farmer.

“Now, Red Cape come and get your bread basket. My boys should be prepping the harvester which is in the opposite field to this one.”

Mereel followed dumbly and returned to his men without issue or the farmer.

Jango and Janga noticed the boot prints the next morning. They were military boots, not their father’s work boots. Shifting the rifles on their shoulders, they silently nodded to each other, agreeing to track their newest squatter.

However their father stopped them.

“Jango! Janga!”

“Da!?!” They yelled in-sync.

“You two should be fixing the harvester not playing out here. Get back to work.“

“What’s in–“ Jango started to ask.

“–the basket?” Janga finished.

“Food.” Their dad replied gruffly, “There’s a beggar in the fields.”

“A beggar?”

“Who is it?”

“The harvester, Jango. Janga. Don’t make me tell you two again.”

They worked in tandem on the engine of the harvester. Jango took the first shift while Janga took the second. It was only around noon that they were interrupted by a rough voice.

“Hey, kids.”

The twins turned to see two armored men. One with a rifle pointed at Jango.

“Let me see your hands. Kriff me, they’re identical.” Vizsla spoke.

“What do you want?” The Fett twins said together.

“Kriff, that was creepy. We’re looking for some bad men. Have you seen any strangers?”

“Other than you?”

“Smart kids. Let’s just shoot them and move on.” The soldier with the rifle remarked.

Vizsla marched closer and kneeled to their level, “I will let him kill the two of you.” Cupping the boy’s cheeks.

The soothing gesture felt off-putting in their tense situation. The soldier had moved closer too. The blaster was centimeters from Jango’s head.

The twins shared a look and nodded.

“Dad gave a beggar some food today.” Jango began.

“We think the beggar wore boots…” Janga tensely continued.

“Soldier boots.” The twins finished.

“Jaster.” Vizsla muttered to himself and straightened away from the boys.

“What now?” The soldier asked for a directive.

“We’ll make sure the boys get home, of course!” He laughed.

Vizsla commed his soldiers to capture the farm. By the time the twins were marched to their house by Vizsla and the soldier, their house was already captured and their father kneeled on the ground.

“Sitrep!” Vizsla commanded.

“The farmer, Fett, hasn’t said anything. We’ve already asked him about if he’s seen any Mandalorians, but he refuses to talk.”

“Well, now that his children are here, maybe he has loosened his tongue.”

The Death Watch soldiers aimed at the twins, who tightly held hands and stared at their father for clues about what to do.

“My name is Vizsla. I am the leader of the Death Watch. I’m looking for a man. A coward. Your boys already told me about a beggar in your fields. Care to elaborate?”

“It was just another beggar. He already left.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Your boys said the beggar had military boots on. You feed every soldier that comes your way? This is the last time I ask nicely…where is Jaster Mereel?”

“Boys!” The twins startled at their father’s attention, “Take care of each other.”

Vizsla drew his blaster and fired a bolt into the farmer’s head. The whine of the gun echoing in the twin’s heads.

The Death Watch leader turned his attention back to the children.

“Well now boys, why don’t you two show me where those boot prints were and I’ll consider letting you live.”

The twins stood in shock. Unable to focus on Vizsla as their father’s dead body remained in full view.

“Boys!” The killer yelled, “where exactly did you see those footprints?”

Before the brothers could even point out the direction, a fusillade of blaster bolts came from that direction. Several of Vizsla’s men were down, and those that remained weren’t enough to deal with Jaster’s men.

Vizsla retreated into a hover car, intent on regrouping with the rest of his men. One of his men sounded the retreat, and Vizsla watched as Jaster grabbed the twins into the cover of the crops.

“Burn the fields!” Vizsla commanded. “There’s no way Jaster will survive that.”

Jango and Janga hugged each other as they mourned. Their minds clouded with grief, only to have a voice cut in,

“Field’s on fire! Let’s move boys.” Jaster informed his men. He turned to the twins, “Your family is dead, boys! Come with us or die here too!”

Janga looked at his brother, he nodded and they followed after the armored men. The smoke thickened and clouded the air and the heat around them grew in intensity.

“Jaster! I can’t see anything!” One of the soldiers up front yelled.

Jango and Janga recognized this trail though. It led to an irrigation tube. Locking hands they shoved their way to the front.

“This way!”

“Come on.”

The fire grew around them and the soldier with the red pauldrons complained, “Can’t see anything.”

“We’re al-“

“-most there.”

“Boys, how the hell do you do that? Wait, almost where?” But his question was answered when the plant-stalks were stomped down. “An irrigation tube?”

“We can crawl-

“-under the fire.”

“Or get boiled alive,” Montross remarked.

“It’s not like-“

“You lot have-“

“A better option!”

Janga and Jango twisted open the cap and Janga braced his hands to help Jango in.

“Wait!” Jaster called out, “I’ll go first. You boys follow after.”

They water slide to the drain outlet which ended outside of the Fett’s field.

“Check your weapons and catch your breath.” Jaster ordered his men, “We’re moving out as soon as it gets dark.”

Another soldier remarked as he poured the trapped water out of his helmet, “Now, we just have to find Vizsla. He’ll need to resupply…”

“We can take you to the closest town.” Janga said as he and his twin watched their home burn.

“They sell food and power cells. He’ll be there.” Janga continued.

“You know how to use a blaster, boys?”

“We can shoot blasters and rifles.” They answered in-sync.

“Our dad…”

“He taught us.”

“Then he was a good man. The twins come with us.” Jaster ordered. The group laid down a plan of action.

Meanwhile at the town, Death Watch had stormed in. Vizsla happy with the assumed death of his enemy, Jaster.

“Alright gentlemen. Two days rest before we head to Moonus Mandel. This town is ours.” Tor relieved his men.

One of the Death Watch soldiers shoved aside a cloaked crippled in his path, “Move it, cripple.”

However, the beggar spun around and the whine of a blaster resounded. The soldier fell dead and the disguised Mandalorian took cover.

Hidden in one of buildings, Jaster commed, “This is Jaster. Phase one successful. Move to phase two. Montross, open fire.”

Several True Mandalorians open fired on the Death Watch soldiers. Boxing the men closer to their vehicle.

Jango ran and slide under the tank, attaching a bomb to the carriage. He rolled out and signed to his brother as he scrambled away.

Janga commed, “He’s done! Blow it up!” Jango skidded next to Janga.

The APC detonated and the twins watched the destruction.

“Phase three complete.” Jaster announced, “Pick off the stragglers.” The words emerged from the comm.

They noticed and recognized one of the surviving enemy soldiers. They raised their blasters together and pointed them at the man.

“You killed-

“-our dad!”

“He was just a casualty of war, kids.”

Then the man charged at them with a hidden blade, they drop their blasters to save their necks.

At the same time Jaster was making his way to what was left of the ride. “Damn!” Jaster yelled when he inspected the empty vehicle, “Vizsla’s gone. Finish off your current targets and pull out!” He ordered.

The boys scrambled for a dead soldier’s weapons as Death Watch’s Second in Command chased after them, “Stop playing soldier…”

But whatever he wanted to say next died with him as the boys fired the blaster together. The twins just killed a man. They just killed. Theyjustkilledamantheyjustkilledaman

Suddenly hands rested on both their shoulders and they looked at the man between them.

“You came through, Jango, Janga.” Jaster said. “But we have to go. Now.”

“He’s dead.” They whispered as Jaster lifted both of them into his arms.

“Yes. Do you two feel any better?”

“No…”

“We don’t know.”

“Not yet.”

“Good.” Jaster responded. Tossing their stolen blaster aside. “Welcome to the Mandalorians.”

—

Montross greeted the twins incorrectly, “Ah, Janga, Jango. Good morning. Have you seen your buir?”

“Right here Montross. Jango, Janga,” pointedly looking at Montross over the correction, “It’s time for your morning drills.”

Do a Rosencratz and Guildenstein

—

Eyayah - echo

[Agglutinative language - A twin is the echo of its twin. ]

—

Jaster looked at his boys.

“Jango wants to become a warrior to protect me.”

“And Janga wants to make the armor to protect me.”

His ade wanted to become a goran and verd. Well, Jaster certainly had his work cut out for him.

—

gedin'la

eccentric, cranky, in a mood - literally *almost insane*

That was what many had taken to calling Janga.

That or “Ashi Jan’ika” (other little Jango). However, that one resulted in fights with those of equal or lesser rank and verbal assault to those above Janga’s status.

(Jaster will never confess it, but he refers to both boys as Jan’ika when he doesn’t know which one he is speaking to…)

But Janga earned his new nickname by his insane forging methods. Janga applied what he has learnt from his sciences, maths, and even history classes into his blacksmithing skills.

Jango understood his twin’s dream better than both the treasury and Jaster. So from his bounty coffers, Jango supported the construction of Janga’s forge.

[Janga invents wootz Damascus steel

Different types of steel pressed together create different colors. By combining dark and light steel, patterns can emerge.

Due to the original wootz Damascus steel method being lost and the original source of forging it unknown, Janga will include pure beskar as the unknown element used to forge these blades and armor.]

For each blade that Janga makes, he personalizes it by making the handle out of wood.

He bought a grove of trees from Concord Dawn. When he makes a blade, Janga cuts a branch off and uses the wood to create handles or grips.

Janga uses “salamander fur” to insulate and deoxygenate the kiln. It’s a fabric that loves to be set on fire

—

Jaster and the Goran master cry cause Janga shits on a thousand years of tradition. Jaster once begged to know why Janga would do this to tradition.

Janga rebuffs Jaster by saying that he is, “Mando mandokarla teh manda bat Manda'yaim, Mand’alor”

A Mandalorian having the epitome of Mando virtue from the state of being Mandalorian in mind on the planet Mandalore, Sole Ruler.

And Jaster responds:

“Pare! Ni linibar papuur’gal par gar paklalat.”

“Wait, I need wine for your wit.”

—

Names his weapons, gear, probes, drones, and droids with reference to pop culture

Jon, Poru, Joji, and Ringo

Kihote and Roshinante

Pinkupansā and Inspekutā Kurōsō

Tùbāgē and Dá-fēi yā and Mǎ-wén Huǒxīng-rén

Méilín and Āsā and Mógēn Lè-fēi

—

Chapters dedicated to making armor, weapons, and miscellaneous items for Mando + co

-Weapons for Jaster

-Armor for Jango (I saw that suit comparison for Boba and Din and how Boba where’s an old fashion suit when compared to Din’s Armani one. That upset me so I want Jango to have a super cool beskar’gam wootz steel thing)

-Custom helmets for diff alien species, (Janga invents the flexible metal design helmets for Togaruta and Twi’leks) [there’s a tumblr artist who draws mando helmets for aliens. Find them, that’s what I’m referring to with this option]

-Dog collars, ID tags

-Prosthetic limbs

-Little Metal Mando toy (that one toy wear the helmet comes off it was an ancient toy)

-Metal marbles, for games

(I’m just listing things I think a blacksmith makes at this point lol)

—

Possible chapter:

Janga answered his comm,

“Evening caller, you’re on air with Janga Fett.”

“Janga…” Jango’s voice carried a guilty tone.

“Jango, what’d ya do this time?”

“…We were attacked by pirates. They raided the ship and…and took the knife you made for me. I’m so sorry! I know how hard you worked on that for me; and how much time you put into making it and, and, and it was the first of its kind. I’m so, so sorry!”

“Well, that was heartfelt and sincere. Could you bring Jaster over to the comm?” Janga replied, ignoring his twin’s apology.

Jango said nothing for a few moments and Jaster announced himself on the comm,

“Janga? What is it?”

“Open your app features in your helmet.”

“Okay?”

“Find the application named “Ni di’kut mar'eyir””

“Janga, why do I have an app called “Find my Idiot?””

“‘Cause I installed it. Duh.”

Jaster sighed.

“Why are you sighing? You’re gonna be soooo thankful for it in the next second. Open it.”

“Janga, what am I looking at here? There are childish drawings of you and your brother’s face on a…map? Star chart?”

“Ding ding ding!” Janga crooned, “I put a tracker in Jango’s knife.”

“You put a tracker in my knife!?” Jango yelled, sounding offended.

“‘Course I did. You said it yourself. I worked hard on it, I spent a long time on it, and it’s the first of its kind. Of course I built in a tracker into the wooden handle. Since no one sane would destroy such a knife, I figured, it’s as good a place as any to put a tracker. You’re welcome, by the way, as I just found your pirates.”

“Janga,” Jaster hesitated, “Do I want to know how many trackers you’ve installed in others’ armor and weapons?”

“Prolly not, no. Find my Idiot is super popular among parents though. I’m not ashamed of it. I have my own tracker. Jango has several. You have some in your gauntlets and boot heels. What’s more is I donate all the money I make from this to the organizations in charge of the foundlings. Anonymously, of course. The way I figured, I’m already rich, what would I do with all that extra money? Become more rich?” Janga scoffed, “Anyway, thanks Jango. That was a super heartfelt apology. Next time keep my first-of-its-kind knife on your person at all times. Jaster, have fun kicking those pirates’ asses. Oh wait, have you used the whistling birds I made you, yet?”

“No, why?” Jaster replied tentatively.

Janga laughed, “Oh, well…it’ll be fun experience for you then, when you do. Jango, you got to record it for me. Think of it as a way to make up for being an idiot. Anyway, I have orders to fill. Things to build. Stuff to blow up. Laters!”

“Janga, Janga wait—“ Jaster’s pleading was cut off as Janga ended the transmission.

A few hours later Janga accepts another call,

“Late night caller, you’re on the air with Janga Fett.”

“Color? Why were the explosions colorful? How did you make them colorful?”

Janga cackled, “Pretty neat, right?”

“The corpses look like someone dropped paint cans on them.”

“Oh I can’t wait to see the footage! Tell me you’ve got footage!”

Jaster sighed heavily, “Yes, your brother got footage. He would have called you, but he’s been laughing so hard for the past 10 minutes that he’s clutching his gut and crying. You should expect several order requests for your…what did you name them again?”

“I’ve been calling them “Sal-Tracyn be Osik’lane”.”

“”Color-Fire of Horribleness”? Yeah. That, that fits.”

—

“Well, well. If it isn’t Haat and Haa’it. You sure there isn’t a Ijaat laying around somewhere?” The Mandalorian joked.

“You think you’re so clever…” Janga grumbled and kicked at the ground.

(It’s a twin thing for people to joke, ‘where’s your walking mirror,’ ‘where’s the other you,’ ‘well, here’s dumb. Where’s dumber,’ ‘Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum’ they think they’re so funny.)

—

#jango fett #star wars #twin oc #jaster mereel #mandalorians #mandalore #writing prompt #story prompt #story ideas #ideas #tales of the jedi #fanfic

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o-wise-corvid · 2 years ago

Text

“So, how’d you end up heeya?”

Maul and Fett had been locking down the ship for the last hour. Melicent was asleep against Maul’s chest and the two Fett children had interlocked their hands over their “Dadee’s” shoulders, the Kaminoan cooing softly to her curly-haired brother. Maul was… admittedly charmed by the way the two interacted. One moment, he was sure one of them would kill the other were Jango not between them. But then, just now, they seemed so soothed by the other.

It made him wonder if his little one would do well with a sibling.

He glanced down at her, trying to decide how to answer Fett’s query. What it would to truly be her father. What a gift. Maul had never been one for romantic encounters. He’d had a few liasons. But they’d not been relationships. Never more than a night, if that. Not always friendly, either. Sidious had never cared much if Maul vented a little steam; loyalty was his old master’s only concern. And Maul had honored that.

“I was a servant of a dark order of Force users, of which myself and my master were the only members. I was sent on a mission for him. I left his cause. Ran away.”

Fett walked beside him, up the corridor toward where they had agreed to eat with Ondler earlier in the day. “What made ya run?”

Maul’s shoulders lifted and dropped. Melicent hummed, opening her cornflower eyes to look up at him sleepily. “Papa…” Her eyes fluttered as he cradled her head in one of his hands.

“Oh.” Fett nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

Maul allowed the misunderstanding to set unchecked. Fett was still an unknown variable. He wasn’t to be trusted completely. Regardless of his parental status. “We relocated across Nar Shadaa, to a factory complex. But it was fronting as a trafficking hub. It took some effort but we got clear of it. And then found Ondler. Which was almost too good to be true.”

“Yes. My impression was the same.”

Boba, the little boy, fussed a little and resituated himself in a better spot with his sister’s hand on top of his head. She made a low “eugh” noise and patted him.

“Gettin’ free of that traffickin’ ring couldn’t ‘ave been easy.” Fett eyed Maul. “Your um… ordah. Like the Jedi Ordah?”

Maul ticked his head to the side a bit. “Something like that.”

“Uh-huh…”

___________________________________________________________________________

Fett’s expression was passive. Which was an achievement considering the Kaminoan child was gnawing on him with all the ferocity of a half-starved bat eel. This was apparently a regular occurrence, because the man had affixed a leather strap that covered his neck and shoulder. Little Ullo made a rattling little snarl and shook her head a little. Fett’s calloused, though graceful fingers patted her back soothingly. Well. Those of one hand. Boba had the other one. He seemed to be copying his big sister; the boy’s brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to gum his father’s hand clean off.

Melicent was not one to be left out of the party. Even if she wasn’t exactly keen on socializing with the Fett children. She’d hefted herself up toward Maul’s face, mashed it with her little hands, and promptly set to chewing on his nose. Maul held her close, one foot propped up on Ondler’s empty chair, and he and Fett chuckled at their respective little ones. Ondler’s tooka circled them, bumping into the men’s legs and rearing up to sniff at the younglings.

“So, you boys-”

Maul sniffed and Fett rolled his eyes a bit at their title.

“-seem to be gettin’ on,” Ondler said, flipping his wok full of noodles, vegetables and Sorgan shrimp. “That’s good. We’re gonna take a little downtime here, so be sure and stock up in port. We gotta head to Nal Hutta next.”

Maul felt a slight tightening in the Force, markedly from Fett, as if the man’s jaw clenching was shrinking the room. The Mandalorian had mentioned bounty hunting, so contact with the Hutts wasn’t exactly unexpected. Judging by his reaction, it didn’t look like that contact was pleasant.

“You expectin’ trouble?” Fett asked, not batting an eye as his daughter snaked her long neck around his own and got a better grip on her chew strap with a low hiss.

“Not exactly,” Ondler replied, portioning out three bowls, which Maul was good enough to disperse with a little help of the Force. Fett glanced at the hovering dishes, but Ondler seemed completely unfazed. So the Mandalorian snatched up his fork and dug in. “But it’s not wise to expect the best out of Hutt run worlds. Best to be prepared.”

Maul said nothing, adjusting his hold on Melicent. She traded her grip on his nose for his ear, but she was more interested in the earring in it than biting it. “Papa… mm.”

“Yes, I know I have an earring,” he murmured to her.

“Mm!”

“When you are older.”

“Mm…” The threat of tears in the soft voice made him glance at her, seeing blue eyes full of tears.

“... We can look for something tomorrow. Alright?”

“Mm mm.” And Maul was rewarded by little arms winding around his neck, and a content huff.

“She talkin’?” Fett asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Mm. Not exactly,” Maul said around a mouthful of noodles. “She speaks in her own way.”

“Uh-huh.” Fett slurped up a noodle, attracting the attention of his daughter. He offered her a shrimp and gave it a sniff, huge eyes trained on the small shellfish. And then she proceeded to try to swallow her father’s entire forearm.

“Ack- hey. What did Dadee say? Wait an’ I’ll give it to ya.”

Ullo withdrew her head almost all the way down to her shoulders, looking sheepish. “Dadeeee…” Her neck unfurled itself again and she bumped her forehead on his chin. Fett held the shrimp out again and she gently took it between sickle-sharp, fishy teeth and swallowed it whole. “Mm.”

Needless to say, Ullo got the rest of Jango’s shrimp.

____________________________________________________________________________

Maul had been to Nal Hutta before; the stench was still shocking. Which was a statement, coming from him. He wrinkled his nose against the stiff plume of rancid, polluted miasma that seeped into the ship as the boarding ramps extended. Fett’s helmet kept him from the accursed reek, but Ullo on his back and Boba on his front both pressed their faces against their father.

Melicent made a face that Maul had to admit was very like the one he was and put her hands over her nose. Maul tousled her curls as passengers began loading, many wearing air purifiers or simple cloth masks. She also accepted hiding her head in the folds of his vest.

“We oughtta get ‘em… somethin’ before we come here again,” Fett rasped. He tossed Maul a handkerchief from one of this belt patches and then promptly tied one around each of his children’s faces. Boba immediately yanked his off, however, and Ullo nearly smacked her head into the bulkhead trying to shake it off. Melicent tolerated hers all of two seconds longer and then yanked it off, and smushed her face back into Maul’s chest.

Fett and Maul gave each other what, even with Fett’s helmet, was a slightly pained, helpless shrug.

Finally, the last call for boarding was sounded and the loading doors were sealed. The smell faded quickly as the ship’s air scrubbers got to work and the kids relaxed, looking shyly at the crowd of passengers finding their way to sitting areas so they could strap in for the trip. Unlike other stops, the minority was human while the majority were Twi’Lek, Gamorrean and Devaronian. Hutts liked to have the three species under their employ; Twi’Leks were widely regarded as one of the most attractive species in the galaxy, Gamorrean were good security thanks to their toughness and strength, and Devaronians… that was actually a little odd. Perhaps there had been some sort of gathering that was now disbanding.

Maul closed his eyes, and cast out with his feelings, gauging the atmosphere as the engines thrummed, pushing the ship into the atmosphere. The floor rattled under his boots and he moved his hands to cover Melicent’s ears. She gripped his wrists in her little hands, eyes squeezing shut.

The crowd teemed with the regular, normal anxieties. Fatigue. Eagerness to be where they were headed. Worry about things behind. Concern of family. Friends.

Financial obligations.

No money.

Desperation.

Holding the ship at ransom.

Maul’s head snapped up and Fett reacted immediately, a hand dropping to his hip-holstered blaster. But Maul shook his head, gesturing to wait. The thread of emotion and vague thought solidified as Maul focused harder on it, taking hold of it like a taught wire in a dark room, and feeling around for any connections.

“Five,” Maul murmured to the Mandalorian, who quickly relayed the information in a text-comm to Ondler. “Not well equipped. Just hand weapons. I can subdue them easily.” He focused his gaze on Fett finally. “We should put the children down for a nap.”

Fett and Maul moved casually. They crossed their usual traveling spaces, which had little enclaves for baggage storage that had been repurposed to serve as protective enclosures just big enough for their little ones. Melicent’s eyes were large and scared as her Papa disengaged himself from her, but she was quiet. She could feel it, the approaching thunder clap. Maul pressed a confident, comforting caress to her little mind, feeling the fear inside her little heart.

Boba nestled against his sister in their enclave, the two clinging to each other and watching their Buir shut them in. Fett murmured something in Mando’a to them and Ullo made a soft, worried hum, hugging her brother extra tight.

Children safe and protected, Fett and Maul moved together. They winnowed their way into the crowd, Maul directing Fett with subtle tilts of his head. The Mandalorian reacted perfectly, stepping in behind a yellow-skinned Twi’Lek male and shoving his blaster hard into his back. The Twi’Lek didn’t react and began walking when Fett prompted. One down. Four to go.

Maul caught a human around the back of the neck, the pressure immediately rendering them unconscious. The Force caught them and Maul “escorted” the unaware hijacker toward a wall where he bound their hands and feet, and stowed them in a baggage compartment, the crowd and shadowed interior covering his actions.

Fett’s voice chirped in his earpiece. “Got two. They were together. Where’s the last-” The unmistakable peal of a blaster bolt cut Fett off and the crowd flattened almost instantaneously. Fett was hit, the blaster having found the unarmored junction of his shoulder and torso. He went down hard from the close range impact, a Nikto looming over him with a fierce snarl plastered to her scaly face.

Maul threw himself clear across the room, using his own body like a battering ram. The Nikto never saw him coming and while she was built like a wall, Maul hit her in the backs of her legs, sweeping them out from under her. She went down hard, but lifted her bare, spiked right foot, intent on bringing her six inch long, knife-sharp heel spur down on the Zabrak.

Until a blaster bolt amputated the foot cleanly, sending the detached appendage flying across the room. The crowd shrieked, cowering and shrinking… but it was over. That quickly, it was over.

Maul turned his head, looking for who had shot the Nikto. It was Fett. His helmet had slipped off and his face was a shade or two paler, but the Mandalorian’s still smoking blaster was still leveled at the moaning Nikto, an expression of grim determination on his features.

#a dad n a bab AU #Maul and Melicent AU #the adventures of the Fetts and Opresses #just a couple single dads and their kids off in space #Ullo gonna bite she Dadee for this #how dare he #dragon and bee part 2 #finally another addition I know I know #the brain and body are tired #and I’m sick again #but I made a deal with myself to finish at least one addition to a current WIP before starting another one

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