Author's Note: This fic loosely follows the plot of The Mandalorian except for the added romance plot and my own twists, headcanons, etc.

@1Mando, this is for you girlie. I hope you enjoy it! I love these two so much 😭💖
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Din could name several other places he'd rather be than here.

The cantina itself wasn't undesirable, it was the reason why he was summoned that bothered him. Based on the antsy look in Greef's eyes, he knew she would show up. They flicked between his cuirass and the cantina entrance, never actually meeting his gaze. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought they were going to be accompanied by a person of higher standings, not the thorn in his side that he's been trying to avoid for weeks. 

"You should've told me she was coming." Din said, breaking the silence that had lasted ten minutes.

"If I had done that, you would've never shown up." Greef replied, finally meeting Din's gaze as he furrowed his brows. "Look. I know you two have some... discrepancies, but I need you to put them aside. Right now, there's a job to be done."

"It doesn't take two people to do one job." Din huffed.

"It does when there's a valuable asset at stake. I need to ensure that nothing happens to it." Greef countered, placing his forearms on the table to make a point. "You are the best in the parsec. No hunter in the entire guild can match your skill, and she's just as good."

Din looked away, presumably to monitor the bar as a distraction. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to look at. "Which isn't a surprise, considering we come from the same place."

Greef's expression tightened as he grew impatient. "Come on, Mando. I need you to work with me!"

Din said nothing, his attention having already been drawn to the entrance upon spotting another Mandalorian entering the cantina. He turned his back towards her, gaze set straight ahead even as she appeared in his peripheral vision a few seconds later.

"Glad you could make it, err... Mando." Greef greeted her awkwardly, all traces of impatience vanishing from his expression. He knew neither of their names—and wasn't supposed to—so both of them had been deemed 'Mando', which quickly became inconvenient as they would now be in the same conversation. "Care to join us?"

"Gladly." Nyamria answered in a forced tone, as if she were speaking through her teeth. She sat down next to Din with no regard for his personal space, seemingly unbothered as her right pauldron scraped against his left one.

Din let out a grunt of annoyance and shifted further to his right.

"Tight fit, huh?" Greef attempted to joke, though the humor died instantly in the tense atmosphere. He cleared his throat. "Right. I suppose you're waiting to hear about your job."

Din was expecting to see a bounty puck or even a tracking fob, but Greef did nothing but sit there and twiddle his thumbs. What was he waiting for?

"Where's the puck?" He demanded.

"No puck." Greef replied. "Face to face. Direct commission."

"Underworld?"

"You've got to be joking." Nyamria scoffed. "I abandoned my other job—which was paying well, mind you—and traveled halfway across the galaxy to this fucking hot cesspool at your request just for you to say there's no puck? Do you even have any information for us to go off of?"

Greef managed to keep his cool, though it was obvious her intensity made him uncomfortable. "The client was very adamant that I send anyone interested in the job to his compound. I'm limited as to what I can disclose. You want information? You have to go to him."

Din let that brew in his mind while he considered his options. Direct commission jobs were a rare find these days, and most of them paid very handsomely from what he'd heard. The only real setback was working with Nyamria. It would be a struggle due to how uneasy their relationship was at the time, but he would have to make it work. The money made it worthwhile.

"Are you seriously considering this?" Nyamria hissed at him. "You don't even know what you're getting yourself into!"

"No, but we will manage just fine." Din answered, his tone just as sharp. Had she already forgotten that they were supposed to be partners? "Let's go. We're losing daylight."

Nyamria curled her hand into a fist, but said nothing more. Instead, she rose from the booth with a loud huff and stalked towards the entrance, not bothering to wait for him.

Din gave Greef a look as he got up to follow her. "This better be worth it." He told him, then silently turned to head for the entrance.

*
*
*

Neither Din nor Nyamria said a word as they traveled through the marketplace. What little patrons there were made sure to give them a wide berth. The presence of one Mandalorian was enough to turn heads, but two could clear a crowd. The people of Nevarro knew of the covert, but not where it lay hidden. Since they only ever saw one Mandalorian at any given time, they were scarcely aware of just how many lived in the sewers under their feet.

Din began to walk ahead once the compound was in sight. He had the code that was needed to gain entry. So far, he was able to tolerate Nyamria's presence fairly well. Knowing he'd be stuck with her for the next few days, however, soured his mood.

Whatever. He could deal with it.

Upon approaching the door, Din held up a sliver of metal about the size of his finger. A circular droid emerged from a hatch in the wall, blinked a few times, then retreated back inside. Seconds later, the door opened with a soft whoosh.

He went in first and Nyamria followed at his heels. Darkness greeted them as they stepped inside. The place felt more like an abandoned storage unit than an established compound. They had seen worse, though, and therefore had no problem continuing forward.

Eventually, they came across a hallway with a door at the end. Light peered through the cracks.

"This must be the place." Nyamria murmured, more to herself than him.

He ignored her, making sure his blaster was set correctly in its holster before he cautiously approached the door.

It slid open to reveal a desk with an older man sitting behind it. Flanking the desk were four stormtroopers, two on each side. The troopers instantly drew their blasters and aimed them at Din, who'd drawn both his blaster and rifle just as fast. It was a standoff, and things only got worse when Nyamria shoved her way through to point her blaster at a trooper.

"Greef Karga said you were coming." The old man said, unfazed by the hostility shown by both parties.

"What else did he say?" Din demanded.

"He said you were the best in the parsec."

At that moment, a side door opened to allow a disheveled scientist to stumble into the room. Din immediately aimed his blaster at him and the man hastily lifted his hands in surrender.

"No!" He cried.

"Someone better explain what's going on." Nyamria growled as she tightened her grip on her blaster. She felt like blasting everyone in that room to pieces and forgetting about the job altogether. Nobody told her the client was imperial!

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to alarm—" The scientist tried to explain himself, but the old man silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"This is Doctor Pershing. Please excuse his lack of decorum. His enthusiasm outweighs his discretion." The old man explained as he folded his hands on the desk. His tone lacked any sort of emotion, which made Din's skin prickle with unease. "Please lower your blasters."

"Have them lower theirs first." Din countered.

"We have you four to two." One of the stormtroopers to their left muttered, shifting his stance as he looked down the barrel of his blaster.

"I like those odds."

Nyamria cast him a slight look, but kept quiet and remained in position.

"He also said you were expensive. Very expensive." The old man continued, rising from his chair. He gestured to the stools placed in front of the desk. "Please sit."

No one moved. The drop of a pin could be heard. It was that quiet. Din noted how filthy the stormtroopers' armor was kept, far from the stark white plastoid which gleamed under bright light. He supposed it could be due to the faded yellow lighting in the room, but he had another theory that was far less innocent. These troopers had been on the move. They were covered in sand and dirt. If this was the first time he discovered their existence, that meant they had been doing much more than he knew about.

"This scumbag is imperial. You know exactly what the Empire did to Mandalore. To all those people who couldn't escape." Nyamria muttered under her breath to Din, trying to change his mind. At this point, the money wasn't worth it to her. She refused to work for anyone affiliated with the Empire, even if it was gone. "He's a waste of our time."

She didn't need to remind him of the horrors their world had experienced. He relived them each time he set eyes on the stormtrooper helmets that were perched on spears in the sand just outside of town. Not only that, the security droids responsible for combing through the wreckage to kill the wounded and dying were far too reminiscent of the sleek super battle droid that nearly killed him on Aq Vetina.

They had every reason in the world not to accept this job and the old man knew it.

Time to change the playing field.

He gestured for the troopers to lower their weapons, which they did reluctantly. Only when they weren't an immediate threat did Din and Nyamria lower their weapons as well. After that, the old man reached into a drawer and brought out something wrapped in a fabulous red-stitched cloth. He pulled back the folds of fabric with his gnarled fingers to reveal a single beskar ingot.

Upon noticing that he had gotten their immediate attention, the old man withdrew his hand. "Go ahead. It's real." He said.

Din moved first, carefully lifting the ingot into his hands like it was made of glass. He couldn't help but notice the imperial logo stamped on its surface.

"This is only the down payment." The old man said as he watched Din examine the ingot. "I have a camtono of beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the asset."

"Alive?" Nyamria inquired.

"Yes, alive." He replied with a nod.

She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. She preferred to bring her bounties in dead, but if they were getting paid as much as he promised, none of that mattered.

"Although, I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession." The old man added. "This being the case, proof of termination is also acceptable at a lower fee."

"That's not what we agreed upon." Dr. Pershing shakily chimed in, still cowering against the wall.

"I'm simply being pragmatic."

Nyamria dropped her arms and took a step towards the desk. "Let's see the puck, then."

"I'm afraid discretion dictates a less traditional agreement. We can only offer you a tracking fob." The old man stated.

"Who's we? You and limpdick over there?" Nyamria demanded, but was promptly ignored.

"What's the chain code?" Din's question was followed by an exasperated sigh. He was growing weary of Nyamria's constant need to argue or throw an insult.

The old man folded his hands over the front of his robe, only slightly bothered by her abrasiveness. "We can only provide you with the last four digits."

"Their age? That's all you can give us?"

"Yes. They're fifty years old. We can also give you last reported positional data."

Din grit his teeth together in frustration. This wasn't going in the direction he wanted. Things only seemed to be getting more and more complicated. His displeasure was obvious in his stiff posture and tense tone.

"Between that and the fob, a pair of your skill should make short work of this." The old man said, his expression never changing once throughout the entire conversation. "The beskar belongs back into the hands of a Mandalorian. It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don't you agree?"

Din stared at him, a multitude of thoughts buzzing in his mind. He had to admit that the man was very convincing, which he attributed to the fact that imperial allies often needed to be convincing in order to ensure that they continued to receive funding and protection from the Empire. With the Empire gone, they were exposed. Perhaps that's why some of them created strongholds and compounds for their personal use. He wondered how many there might be throughout the entire galaxy, if any at all.

Gripping the beskar ingot in his hand, Din turned and walked out of the room without another word. Nyamria cast him a bitter glance before she too turned and left the troopers behind.

If she didn't regret accepting Greef's message before, she certainly regretted it now.