Chapter Three

Lez wanted to stay on the ship. He really, really did. It was very warm next to the heater, and so he was understandably upset when he was roused from his state of not-quite-dozing by the gruff Mandalorian yanking him up by the hood of his cloak, and nearly choking poor Lez. He growled at the helmeted man, who scoffed lightly and tossed Lez out the hatch ahead of him.

The Mandalorian kept a tight hold on Lez's shoulder, marching the two of them through the semi-busy streets until they reached a tavern. It was much more crowded inside, and Lez shifted uncomfortably without his hood. The Mandalorian led him over to a table where a single man sat. The man smiled at the Mandalorian, and shot a quizzical look at Lez.

"Ah, that was fast," he remarked. "Did you catch them all?" In answer, the Mandalorian set several trackers on the table, and the man nodded. "Good, I'll begin the offload." He turned and said something in a language Lez didn't recognise, and another man standing some distance away nodded and turned, making his way off through the crowded room, to unload the bounties from the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian pushed Lez into the booth, then laid his spear-rifle down across the table and sat too, keeping his hold on Lez's upper arm. The man now sitting across from them set a few credits on the table. The Mandalorian looked at them for a few seconds, and Lez could sense his distaste through the man's armour. "These are Imperial credits," he said.

"They still spend," was the reply. Lez looked nervously at a much larger creature, who was staring at Lez with a concerning glimmer in his eyes.

"I don't know if you heard, but the Empire is gone." Lez ducked his head as the being turned and said something to the woman he was with, her eyes darting over to Lez, too.

"It's all I've got," the man sighed. The Mandalorian reached to take back his trackers, but the man slapped a hand over them. "Save the theatrics," he snapped. "Fine, I'll..." he reached into another pocket and set something else down on the table. Lez turned his head down and focused on the conversation around him instead of the eyes on the back of his head. "I can do Calamari flan, but I can only pay half."

The Mandalorian seemed to consider this, and after a second, he sighed. "Fine." He let go of the trackers, which the man took, and he swiped the flan off the table. "What about this one?" He asked, jerking his head at Lez. The man scrutinised him for a moment.

"I don't recognise him. In fact, I don't even know what he is. If there's a bounty on him, I don't know of it." Lez's shoulders slumped in relief.

"Hey there, lads. Couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and I know a man who'd pay a handsome penny for this beauty here, if you need someone to take him off your hands for you?" It was the creature from before, and they were even more imposing standing over the table- eight feet tall with skin a bit like tree bark. The woman was standing behind them, grinning. Lez swallowed. He encountered his fair share of creeps- people wanting to sell his horns or scales, or even to sell him out as a slave. So far, he'd been lucky not to end up mounted on a wall somewhere.

The Mandalorian seemed to have the same opinion of the people, since his grip tightened minutely on Lez's arm and he growled out a gruff reply of "no thanks, he'll stay with me for now." The creature looked like they were ready to start a fight, but the Mandalorian reached for his spear-rifle, and they scoffed and turned away, but not before uttering one last sentence.

"A slut like that can't be worth anything more than a few good times. Once you get tired of it, come back around, and we can make a deal." And then they were gone, the woman tossed one last glance at Lez before following. Lez sighed tiredly and tilted his head back to rest against the seat. God, he wished he stayed on the ship.

"Does stuff like that happen a lot?" The Mandalorian asked.

"More than you'd think. That's why I generally wear the hood, but someone cuffed my hands. Which, now that you know I have no bounty on me, could you release?" The Mandalorian sighed, before unlocking the cuffs and letting Lez rub at his sore wrists. He slipped the hood back on, working the holes over his horns. He half-listened as the man started listing off new bounties he had, setting down about six pucks.

He didn't really pay attention to the job the man described to the Mandalorian, but he caught snippets about how it was 'deep pocket' and 'underworld' and whatnot. Eventually, the Mandalorian got up to leave, and Lez followed. The two made it all the way back outside before the Mandalorian realised he had a shadow.

"What are you doing." He asked, not even bothering to turn around.

"I'm coming with you, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"You're not coming with me. Find some other ship to steal."

"But you said I was staying with you for now. And as a bounty hunter, my skill set can be very useful for you. Besides, if you leave me here, I'll just end up either tied to someone's bed, or hanging on their wall. Your choice." Lez shrugged. He could just find another ship to steal, but this Mandalorian seemed fun, and Lez was keen on adventure.

"Fine." The Mandalorian finally relented, and Lez was surprised it hadn't taken more convincing. He grinned as he picked up his pace to walk beside the man. So there was a heart under all that cold beskar.

"So...what do I call you?"

"What?"

"You know, your name. You know mine, and I can't just call you 'the Mandalorian' all the time. So?"

The man sighed. "Din Djarin," he muttered begrudgingly. Lez nodded appreciatively, mouthing the name to himself.

Lez followed Din through the crowded streets, down narrow pathways into less crowded streets, and around winding back-alley paths. He had no idea how the man ahead of him even knew where they were going, and he tugged his hood further down on his head. Eventually, they came to a building sandwiched between more buildings that were nearly indistinguishable from each other. The door was set back in the stone wall, and looked heavy and metal.

Lez hung back a little as he and his companion were let in, and led down a dark hallway by a robot that looked a little like a trash can with legs. They reached another door, and when it opened to reveal several storm troopers and a man dressed in a cloak, Lez felt every muscle in his body tense up. He and the Empire (what was left of it, at least) were not on good terms. He eyed the troopers and anxiously tugged on his hood again, following Din as he slowly entered the room.

"Greef Karga said you were coming," the man spoke with an accented voice, addressing Din, who remained silent as he moved forwards, the troopers parting for him and Lez, who kept close behind.

"What else did he say?" Din asked once he was standing in front of the man's improvised desk.

"He said you were the best in the parsec," the man's eyes flicked to Lez. "He didn't say you would be bringing a friend."

The air rippled with tension as the troopers shifted, clutching their weapons. Lez swallowed and took a half step closer to Din. "He works with me," the helmeted man answered, voice tense. The silence continued, tensions rising, until a door off to the side opened, and Din whipped out his pistol, pointing it at the man who stepped into the room, who immediately cowered. Instantly, Din and Lez had every trooper pointing their own weapons at them, voices shouting over each other. Lez reached for his knife, but didn't make a move to threaten anyone, muscles so stiff with fear and adrenaline, he wasn't sure he even could move.

The man who had newly entered the room didn't seem like much of a threat once Lez got a good look at him. He was skinny, round glasses sliding down his nose, and dressed simply in grey and white. He stuttered through an apology, hands raised as he flinched away from Din's gun. The man leading this operation stood and made his way over. "This is doctor Pershing," he said by way of introduction. "Please excuse his lack of decorum. His enthusiasm outweighs his discretion. Please lower your blaster."

"Have them lower theirs first," Din spat with no hesitation, arms unwavering.

"We have you four to two," one of the troopers mocked, and Lez swallowed nervously again.

"I like those odds," Din replied, taunting. Does he want to start a fire fight? Lez thought incredulously. He was not prepared for that. He had quite literally brought a knife to a gunfight, and he was not a Mandalorian, he had been raised on a farm and a barge ship, he barely knew how to street fight.

"Din," he whispered. "I don't like those odds. Let's just be civil for now, please?"

Din hesitated. The man walked closer to Din with the air of someone who knew he held all the cards, and Lez didn't like it. "He also said you were expensive," he murmured. "Very expensive. Please sit." He turned back to his desk, gesturing for his men to lower their weapons, which they did. Only then did Lez and Din relax, the latter moving forwards and lowering himself into one of the two chairs in front of the man's desk. Lez opted to keep standing.

The man slid something across the space between them, revealing it to be a single brick of pure beskar. Lez somewhat zoned out after that, only paying half-attention as Din tested the authenticity of the metal, and the man laid out the terms. The doctor briefly got worked up about ensuring the target was brought back alive. He watched as Din was handed an old-fashioned tracking fob, and told the age of the target.

Lez didn't like how this man was borderline threatening Din, but in a room full of troopers, he wasn't going to say anything. He was relieved when Din stood to leave, only pausing briefly to acknowledge what the man said about the beskar's rightful place being in the hands of a Mandalorian, before the door slid open and they were back in the dark hallway, and Lez felt like he could breathe again. 

almost done with all the boring stuff at the beginning guys bear w me! I tried to make this one longer cuz i know i havent updated this in s while