#sypare

[alexsandercarranza]

¿Qué riesgos enfrentan tus hijos al navegar por Internet?

La gran mayoría asume que sus hijos están seguros al navegar por Internet dentro de sus hogares, después de todo, ¿qué les puede pasar si están en su cuarto buscando información para una tarea, jugando o chateando con sus amigos? Sin embargo, la red de redes encierra más de un peligro, y cada vez que se conectan es como si estuvieran en la calle…solos. En ese contexto es crucial que como padres…

[foomoosworld]

Stars Too Far

CHAPTER 16 - Lemon Tree

Mando X Fem Reader

Minors DNI

Summary: I'm too fucking tired to reiterate 15 chapters of whats gone on. Just read this and if you're interested, read the rest. There's no smut in this one cause... fucking plot and twists sometimes have to take place in between dicks. At least in literature... fuck. don't reference Shakespeare.,, exception to the rule? (Checks list) nope never mind. Well, I'm sorry, I'll make up for the lack of sucking and fucking next time. There's tender moments here that will leave you teary eyed.

.... I will never write my own summary again. This is the worst.

You hold Shy-Tan in your arms tightly bundled in rags with Din standing next to you on a stage in the ball room of the Mandalore Palace as Bo-Katan addresses a meagre crowd of Mandalorians that chose to show up. This may be a hard sell.

“This is Din Djarin…”  She starts loudly as she motions to Din.  "He has worked numerous times and put his life on the line to rebuild and save Mandalore.”  Din nods at Bo Katan.  “This, is Din Djarin’s Riduur…  She has saved him numerous times from death.  She has put her life consistently on the line for one of us without any benefit to herself.”  Bo explains.  The crowd is still silent and obviously unsure. "She gave birth to the first Mandalorian/Luc child since the exile of Lucs to our planet with her RIDUUR” She ensures to emphasise, “Din Djarin.”  The crowd is still unsettled and silent.  Bo decides to take another approach.

“This is not about a decades old exile we tried to strike from our history books.  This is about seeing people for who they are, not what they came from.  The basic code of being a Mandalorain.  We do not judge our Foundlings this way.  Shame on us if we judge other races this way! This is not about revenge on a bloodline. This is about continuing a bloodline!  This isn’t about genetic failure, this is about OUR failure!  We failed the Lucs.  A species that only wanted to exist peacefully and procreate and make the universe better through their actions.  They.  Chose. Us. As mates.  We turned a blind eye to exactly what that would entail.  We never asked questions about their culture, their history, and they didn’t even know their own history, being children.  We should have done the legwork to ensure our Foundling Luc population had the right care and informed people caring for them.  We failed.  Mandalorains failed.  Not Lucs. Today, with the birth of Shy-Tan Djarin, we re-write our history books.  We will learn, accept and protect those around us…”  Bo puts a soft arm around your back and ushers you up to the microphone.

“Hi…” you wave shyly.  “I-uh... don’t want to kill you…”  You look back at Din shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders not sure what to say.  He puts a gentle hand on the small of your back and pushes you back up to the mic and whispers quietly, 

“Say what you need to say…”

You step up to the mic again and clear your throat, completely unsure of where to start. How can you sum up the entirety of two races battling each other as one, uninformed woman, thrust into a leadership role you never wanted. So you started where ever you could grasp a thread in your story...

“I was born on a planet that killed everything alive.  My mother and father died there.  But when I was about to give up, was dying of malnutrition, I found a seedling of a lemon tree.  Lemon trees had no reason to be on Sypar and had no chance of survival without intervention.  And I watered that tree every day, weeded around it,  Gave the ground nutrients of my food when I was hungry.  That seedling grew into a tree that bore fruit to me and I learned how to  survive the harsh environment to keep myself alive with its fruit.  That tree didn’t ask to be there.  It was just born there.  It took myself fo it to help it to  thrive until it could give back to me.  That seedling should have been an afterthought.  Something to be brushed off as something to die because it didn’t belong there, it was nothing.  I helped.  That’s all it took.  Was a little help.  And that tree is the reason I’m here.  The reason Din Djarin met me.  The reason our child exists. That tree taught me that  love grows love.”

You step away from the microphone as all of the Mandalorians are still silent.  I look to Din, nervously, and shrug as if to say “I did my best”  Bo looks aprehensively around the silent crowd.

“I will plant the seed!”  A Mandalorian's voice echoes out through the ballroom as he steps out of the crowd and thrusts a fist to his chest.

“I will plant the seed!” another Mandalorian shouts from the back of the crowd.

“I will plant the seed!” another Mandalorian steps forward and shouts.  Then one by one, the entire crowd steps forward stating they will stand with you and Din.

Din hugs you close with a strong arm and whispers to you, “You’re not alone anymore.”

………………….

Bo leads you, Din and Shy-Tan in your arms back through the palace and informs you,

“I have intel that Imperial Cruisers are on their way here and there’s another giant fleet coming from the other direction.  Our censors can’t pick up what kind of ships the ones from the East are.  It’s like they’ve never been scanned or in this sector before.  And there’s a lot of them.  You need to find another planet to hide on.  We can't hold both fleets off even if we can get the rest of the Mandalorians on board. You’re not safe here for long.”

Din nods, “How much time do we have?”

“Maybe an hour.  We’ll get you to your home fast but leave right away.  We’ll create a distraction.  I don’t think you’re getting out of here without a battle.”

Bo Katan's assistant shuttles the three of you back to your shabby house as fast as possible and we frantically load everything into the Razor Crest as fast as we can.  You’re in the bedroom gathering up Shy-Tan when a bounty hunter aims through the window and blasts at you.

You tumble with Shy-Tan in your arms behind a door frame and Din immediately hears and rushes in and shoots the bounty hunter.

“Come!”  Din yells grabbing your wrist and trying to dart you out to the Razor Crest.  

Storm Troopers line the property and start taking shots at you, raining the air with blaster fire.  It's too late, the Imperial Cruisers have landed and so have Bounty Hunters and soon another fleet will be here to kill you, Din and take your child. You, with Shy-Tan huddled close to you and Din rush and crouch behind a small cargo box in the front yard.  You're huddle together, Din’s arms engulfing you.

“How are we getting out of here?”  You ask frantically through the blaster fire coming from all directions.

Din looks around, watching Storm Troopers surrounding you from every angle.

“I-I dont know…”  He stammers, and for the first time you hear terror quaking his voice as he holds you and Shy-Tan even closer under him.

He pushes his vembrance and releases his whistling sparrow missiles but it only takes out about ten Storm Troopers with 50 more closing in.

Din’s Com Link goes off and he hear’s Bo-Katan say, “The other fleet has arrived… prepare for more fire!”

You whine, terrified, holding Shy-Tan under the cave that Din has created over you with his body.  

“We’re going to die.”  You cry then put your hand over Shy-Tan’s eyes.  Din doesn’t say anything but you feel his body tense as he covers you.

There’s the sound of ships soaring overhead, ship fire, blaster fire and screaming.  There’s numerous blinding, flashing, lights, explosions and you feel dirt being thrown around and shot into your skin from the blast.  After the initial blasts and ship engines soaring close to the ground it sounds like hand to hand combat until it becomes quiet.

Din refuses to stop covering the two of you, shaking, sure that this would be your end.

Everything is silent.  The air can be heard again.

A hand touches Din's shoulder.

Din raises his helmet to see a man standing over him.  He holds a long sword dripping with blood as he drops the decapitated head of a StormTrooper.  His face is striped with glowing neon blue stripes.

He holds his hand out to Din to help him up.  

“Din Djarin?” He asks.

Din takes his hand, confused and stumbles up to his feet, letting you and Shy-Tan who he was covering, slowly sit up.

Din stares around the horizon watching the unknown fleet eradicate numerous fleets of Star Troopers in the horizon with flashes of blinding blue light on the battlefield and screams.  He stands in awe.

You stand up with Shy-Tan in your arms, eyes wide, taking in the war torn environment then stares at the man who saved you.

“Who are you?” Din finally manages to mumble in awe.

The man doesn’t respond.  His blue stripes streaking across his face illuminate brighter.

You speak up, understanding who they are...

“They’re the enslaved male Lucs from the Empire Raid on my home planet... You survived."

Stars Too Far Masterlist

[foomoosworld]

Stars Too Far

CHAPTER 10 - I’ll Bring The Girl To You

Pairing - Mandalorian x fem reader

Summary: The Mandalorian crashes on an uninhabited planet, or so he thought until you save him from a gruesome death and mend his wounds. You then work together to get off the godforsaken planet of Sypar where everything will kill you. (Please note that this story has progressed past this plot point, however, I cannot disclose further informaiton due to those who may start reading here and not have read the past chapters.)

A/N I've come down with some shit illness that won't make me fully sick but consistently makes me tired and stuffed up and sneezing so I apologize in advance for grammatical errors. It was a bit of a rough ride writing this chapter. Especially since I had to juggle and interweave a lot of plot points to bring things together for the next few chapters. No smut in this one, amazingly. Nudity, fluff, drinking, violence, smoking, language and some questionable decisions characters make that even made me scream at them, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!? STOOOOOP!"

Anyways....

Minors DNI 18+ only on all of my work.

Din bolted to Barac’s side as he bled profusely in the cockpit.  He tore off a piece of his cape and held it Barac’s neck which spurted blood.  He opened a comlink on his vambrace and frantically called for a medic to the Razor Crest.  Flustered, he bolted to the fresher of the ship, skidding as he caught the doorframe.  His gloved hands shoved everything in the small cabinet out of the way until he grasped all of the bacta patches he had, a meager two and ran back to Barac’s side.  He untethered the scrap of cape he had used to try and stop the profuse bleeding from his neck and secured a bacta patch then placed another on his face.  His eyes darted frantically back and forth as he used his bloodied cape to try and stop the bleeding from his mangled arm and attempted to comfort him with shushing and “You’re going to be okay” as his heart jumped out of his chest.  

Barac wasn’t buying it, even as he went into shock from his wounds, he raised a trembling forearm which Din took and leaned in to hear him gargle,

“I always knew you would kill me before Bylon did…”

Barac’s eyes rolled back as he passed out from blood loss and Din gathered him up in his arms like a frightened animal, then opened a comlink to his mother.

It beeped and beeped but she didn’t pick up.  He could hear the sirens of the medic speeders racing to approach in the distance.

“This was foreseen.”  A voice rung out from behind Din.  He swiveled his head around wildly to see Barac’s mother, the psychic, standing in the cockpit doorway, a black scarf wraped around her head in place of her usual tall and elaborate wig.  She stepped toward her son, passed out on the floor in a pool of his own blood.  The hundreds of tied, dirty, faded multicolour strips of rags forging her dress swayed as she knelt down next to her son and began soaking up the blood on the floor like a paper towel.  She reached out gently and picked Din’s arms off from clutching her son and took his place on the floor holding Barac.  She smoothed Barac’s blood soaked hair then looked up at Din.

“I… I didn’t -” Din stammered as she held her bleeding son. 

“Your job, now, is to take care of her.”  She said with an eerie calmness but brute accent on the words “Take care” that insinuated she may have had a stern double meaning.  Din backed off, not sure what to think or how to handle the situation and stormed into the cargo hold to find you.  He knew what she had meant when she said “look after her” so sternly.

You were frozen in carbonite.  Your face was an expression of terror and your hands were outstretched like clawing tree limbs from the stone.  Din pulled is blaster and pointed it, shaking, at your carbonite slab then grunted loudly, banged himself in the head with overwhelming frustration and confusion with the butt of the blaster as if to knock sense into himself then spun around and steadily aimed the blaster at your frozen face again as he heaved breaths, almost as if anvils were on his chest.  His eyes stared through his visor at your frozen face.  He stepped forward and shoved the blaster into your stone skull.  Tears were trailing down his face beneath his helmet as his face wrenched and gasped for sanity.  His finger twitched on the trigger, being told to press down and hold back by the same thought.

“FUCK!”  He screamed, flailing away and crumbling down to the floor in  exasperated sobs.  He turns on the floor to look at you and shakes his head forlornly, confused and giving up.  Slowly he shuffles over to the carbonite slab you’re frozen in and nuzzles up to your stone body.  He reaches up and holds your frozen hand then begins to sob quietly at your feet.

……………….

The air was frigid but the sun shone brightly.  It was the time of year where the sun was still shining its optimistic energy on the world, however, it was tainted by the cold bite of incoming winter.

Din had unfrozen you from carbonite and you flopped, unconscious, into his arms, blind and lifeless from the carbonite, but still breathing.  He carried you to the small cabin, kicked the door open with a cloud of dust strode a few long steps in and laid you in the middle of the main floor.  He was about to turn and leave when he paused and realized he was leaving you with nothing.  Turning his helmet slightly back to see you, helpless, still naked, shaking with weakness from the carbonite, in a heap on the floor, he let out a small sigh of resignation then exited the cabin.

He got the hover skid, loaded it up with six months of ration packs and some blankets and clothes then slowly lead it back to the cabin.  He unloaded it into the middle of the floor next to you, carelessly dropping a pair of clothes over your body.  Just as you were struggling to regain your strength and could barely see through the fade of your vision he stepped out and closed the cabin door.

You pulled your body up, shakily and stumbled a few weak steps to the sink, overflowing with ship parts, to look out and see The Razor Crest taking off, right above the rusted-out razor crest of your family that had crashed on Synpar decades ago.

You crumpled on weak legs back to the wood, dusty floor and hid your head in shame in your angled arms, clutching the back of your head as you grimmaced in excruciating sorrow, fear and disappointment.

You were home.

You screamed.

………………………

Din set coordinates to Navaro.  He wanted to talk to Greef Karga and see if he had a place to tuck your tail and lay low for awhile.  In the least, he wanted to have a few drinks somewhere with someone.  

Din’s vision flashed between you in carbonite, to Barac gargling blood, to his mother and he pushed the thruster handle forward to force the Razor Crest through space.

He shook his head and reached for the button that sent the Razor Crest into hyperspace… your button.

His fingers hesitated and trembled for a moment before he jared his hand into submission, pushed it, inhaled and held it long enough to strangle his feelings as the Razor Crest jumped into hyperspace.  He looked once over his shoulder out the window to see Sypar disappearing into the blur of hyperspace as if being erased from his life.

Navaro soon crept up in the windshield of the Razor Crest and Din navigated through the atmosphere and landed in the port.  He strode down the ramp and looked to the small gaggle of teenagers, smoking and joking between themselves, waiting for him to toss them credits to fill up the tank and give a once over on the ship.  Barac took a drag of a rolled cigarette, leaning against one of the other boys then crushed it under his foot on the ground with a knowing nod at him.  

Fuck.  He was halucinating.  He had left the dying hellscape of Bylon lightyears away but Barac’s image was still haunting him.  As he blinked again he saw that Barac and the group of teenagers were actually elderly aliens and a few droids.  He hurried off, not fueling up and made his way to the city to see High Magistrate Karga.

………………..

“You do not have an appointment.”  The tall droid shifted its head, jerkily, at Din.

“I know.  He’s a personal friend.  He will want to see me.”

“You do not have an appointment.”  The droid repeated, dryly.

Din pulled out his blaster just as Karga’s office door swung open and he stepped out of his office.

“Whoa, Mando!”  He laughed, “Don’t break it unless you buy it!”  He jovially laughed with open arms.  Shooting the droid a dirty look, Din reluctantly holstered his blaster. The droid stiffly walked up to Karga and said,

“High Magistrate, this Mandalorian wishes to seek your council.   Do you accept this me-?”

“Yes, yes!”  Karga waved off the droid and stepped to Din  “Mando!” Karga exclaimed happily and opened his arms for a hug.  Din offers his hand.  Karga shakes off the formalities and shakes his hand.

“Do you accept this meeting?”  The droid says next to Karga’s face.

“DF-7,” Karga turns to the droid, “Mando, here is an old friend. He is always welcome.”

“Do you accept th-”

“YES I ACCEPT THE MEETING!”  Karga yells annoyed at DF-7.  The droid awkwardly nods and ambles away.  “My apologies, Mando.  As each day passes I begin to admire your stance of ‘ no droids’ more and more.”

Din eyes the droid as it stands, watching in the corner of the room.

“Hm.” he says unamused. “Why don’t we go get a drink?”  Din offers.  Karga arches a suspicious eyebrow and leans back.

“Mando wants to socialize?””  He states as if star-struck.

“Do you accept this meeting?” the droid rushes up and repeats from the corner.

Din unholsters his blaster, turns it to the droid pointing it at the droids head and shouts, “Do you  accept THIS meeting?!?”

“Mando,”  Karga cautions to try to regain the peace and slowly pushes Din’s blaster down with his hand.  Din turns his head, enraged, to Karga who merely shrugs, innocently “It’s hard to find good help these days.”  Din, again holsters his blaster.

Karga flops an arm around Din “You seem stressed, my friend.  Have some thoughts and feelings you’d like to unload?  Maybe some drinks at the cantina is just what we need.”  He leads the two of them out into the street, “I have just the place to bury some memories.”

Karga leads him to a local Cantina and they sit in a small dark booth at the back of the pub.

“Should I ask where your lady friend is?”  Karga asks weakly, yet knowing that this is, most likely, the cause of his discomfort and surly disposition.

Din shifts uncomfortably.

“Two shots of Flameout!” Karga announces at the waiter droid and waves his hand.  The jenky droid beeps his approval and shambles to the bar.

“The Luc, right?”  Karga asks, slowly arching his eyebrow.

Din knits his fingers together on the table in front of him and with his head slumped down slightly nods once, uncomfortably.

The droid comes back to the table with the shots.  Karga takes his and Din sucks his up through the small straw supplied.

“Gah!”  Karga slaps his back.  "If it’s any solace, if you had a child I would have put a bounty of billions on its head if it was a boy!”  He laughs.  Din turns his head abruptly and Karga immediately back pedals, seeing his concern. “In the old days, of course!  I’ve left that life behind now.”

“Why would you put a bounty on our child?”  Din tries to hide his horror, but Karga still picks up on notes of it.

“What?" Karga shrugs as if it should be common knowledge, "Lucs are extinct now and male Lucs are like gold on the black market.  Combine that with a Mandalorian father, after the exile….  It would be a killing machine.  Great for making soldiers.  Add the fact that the females are little murderous monsters when in heat, it makes for some pretty terrible options for mating.  I assume that’s why their population was always so small.  Only a male Luc could tame that beast… or be understanding that their mate naturally loses their mind every now and then until they get pregnant.”

"When they go into heat... they go insane?" Din queries.

Karga laughs and leans back and stretches his arms over the back of the booth seats, "Female Lucs go into a murderous heat. They kill anyone that seems like a threat to their mate. I assume that's some sort of genetic thing because they can only have one child. Probably nature proteting the species, right?" Karga laughs then stops suddenly when he notices Din starting intently at him. "You didn't know that?"

Din waved two fingers for another drink at the droid.

Din’s next shot shows up and he stares at Karga then sucks it up the straw in one gulp.  His mind is racing and nerves have jumped into every inch of his skin.

Karga pauses and stares at Din searching, “Did you mate with her?”

Din looks away.

“Is there a possibility of a Mandalorian Luc male being born?”

Din tips over his empty shot glass and watches it roll around.

“Not anymore.”

“Huh.”  Karga leans back, folding his arms in disbelief.

“Where did you drop her?”  Karga asks slyly.

Din flicks his eyes up through his visor and says simply, “A planet on the inner ring with friends who are more versed in looking after her.”  He lied.

Karga leans back, crossing his arms and nodding slowly, not buying a word of it.  

“Sure.”

The pregnant pause hung awkwardly in the air until Din cleared his throat.  “I need a place to stay for awhile.  I was thinking of Nevarro… just for awhile.  Somewhere… secluded.”

Karga nods slowly in thought, “I think I have somewhere for you.  It’s not much, a little house just outside of town.  It’s on the edge of a swamp but you can squint through your visor and pretend it’s a lake.  It has all of the amenities and privacy you will need.  I can’t go with you right now to show it to you, but I’ll have one of my staff meet you at the outskirt of town in 20 minutes with some speeder bikes.  They can show you the property.”

“Good.”  Din nods, “Thank you.  I appreciate the hospitality.”  Din says standing up.

“Anything for you, Mando.”  Karga smiles at him.

With a swish of his tattered cape, Din turns and strides out of the Cantina to meet the staff member.  Karga nods his head and calls to a man at the bar, “Katah,”. A Gamorrean seated at the bar turns his head and lumbers over to Karga's table.  Karga pats the seat next to him in the booth for him to get in closer. Katah obliges and slides in next to him.

“I need you to put your feelers out to find out if there is a Luc woman who’s been dumped on any planet by a Mandalorian,”  He slides a velvet bag of credits to the Gamorrean, “And keep it quiet.  Report back to me asap.”

The Gamorrean snorts his understanding and sternly turns and stomps out of the cantina.

Karga shakes his head in disbelief and smiles to himself before he knocks back his last shot then stretches his arms over his head and crosses his ankles with a wide, carefree smile.

……………………..

Slowly the door creaked open to the old, small house and the staff member stepped in, taking the key out of the lock and spreading an arm to motion Din into the living room.

“It’s not much…”  The staff member said with an unsure shrug, “But it sure is remote.  You’ll have your privacy.” 

Din nods and slowly walks through the living room and kitchen combination, tracing his gloved hand on surfaces and inspecting the surroundings.  It’s old furnishings but it had a decent amount of space for one person.

“There’s shutters that lock on all the windows and the front and back door have locks… and the bedroom door in case you need-”  She clears her throat, “Privacy.”  Din looks back at the young woman who is still standing in the front doorway.  “Bedroom and bathroom are through there.”  She motions, aprehensively.  Din takes a quick look into the bedroom then nods.

“This will do fine, thank you.”

“Um…”  The staff member pulled a large bottle out of her satchel and presented it to Din, “High Magistrate wanted you to have this as a welcoming present.”  She holds her arms out offering the bottle, but appears frightened to enter the house.  Din steps towards her and sees her flinch slightly as he takes it from her hands and he has to admit, something about that flinch turned him on.  He looked her up and down as she refused to make eye contact and looked down at the floor.

Din leaned an arm against the door frame above her and exhaled a long breath as he looked down at her.

“Do I scare you?”  He asked coldly. 

She shifted in her anxiety beneath his large frame.

“No.” She whispers in a mousey voice.

“Come in and have a drink with me.”  Din offers.  She looks up at him through her eyelashes and wide eyes.

“O-Okay.”  She felt like she had broken a boundary the moment her foot stepped into that living room and Din put a gentle hand on the small of her back, leading her to the couch.  He found two dusty glasses in the kitchen, rinsed them out and poured both of them some tall drinks, his with a straw.

“You don’t look that intimidating when you have to drink from a straw.”  The staffer giggled as she took a sip of her drink.  Din put an arm around her, 

“Do you want to see how intimidating I can be?”

……………..

“High Magistrate, A Gammorean has arrived without an appointment.”  DF-7 announces as he rigidly presents the hulking figure who snorts a hefty breath through his snout then shoves the droid to one side as he enters Karga’s office.

“Ah, Katah, my friend!  You took longer than expected…”

“Four months is not long when searching the entire universe for someone." The Gammorean snarks. KArga nods and raises his hands defensively,

"You are correct, my friend."

I’ve found the Luc girl you are looking for.  She’s on the planet of Sypar.”

“Perfect!”  Karga claps his hands together.  “How long until you can go retrieve her for me?”  The Gammorean snuffs uncomfortably,

“Katah will not go to Sypar.  Too dangerous.”  He grunts.  Karga instantly looks disappointed and cross, “But-” Katah continues, “I have found someone who will…”

In the distance DF-7 is continuously rambling, “Do you have an appointment?  Do you have an appointment?  Do you have an appointment?” as footsteps come closer and closer to Karga’s office.

Mayfeld pushes past the nosy droid and steps into Karga’s office.

“I know Sypar.”  He states simply.  “I’ll bring the girl to you.”

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