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'There’s a Mandalorian in the bar,' Dorren Ke thought hysterically as the Nautolan tried to melt into the shadows of a plant that had seen far better days. 'A real Mandalorian. In the flesh.'
As soon as a figure in silvery gleaming armor had entered the small unnamed bar of a backwater town a hush had fallen over the roughly two dozen people present.
No one moved besides the nervous looks they threw at each other while trying to figure out as fast as possible why there was a Mandalorian standing in their midst.
The Mandalorian themself seemed unbothered by the sudden attention on them and just turned their head in a considering movement, evaluating all of them.
Every kid in the galaxy knew the legends of the battle hardened warriors of the destroyed planet Mandalore who were out there fighting and killing monsters for a living. But every criminal knew the real stories of the merciless Mandalorian bounty hunters who - once they got on your trail - were relentless in tracking down their bounties, their prey, and didn’t care if they brought you in dead or alive as long as the credits were right.
And this bar was full of criminals.
When the blank helmet looked in his direction, Dorren sank back even further into his seat, all the small time jobs he did now and then to pay off the always growing pile of bills on his kitchen counter at the forefront of his mind. Those wouldn’t be enough to send a Mandalorian bounty hunter after him, right?
Right?
To Dorren’s immense relief the Mandalorian seemed to find who they were there for at the other end of the room - only for Dorren to realize that they were still there to take someone in and that those confrontations seldom went peacefully.
There wasn’t a single noise coming from the heavy armor as they slowly wove their way in between tables and chairs before finally stopping short in front of three strangers in the corner.
The two Twi’lek and the human had been a new addition to the bar, only coming there for the last few nights and Dorren hadn’t had a chance yet to talk to them. Though according to gossip he’d heard through the grapevine he wouldn’t have liked them anyways. Too self-assured.
Now, Dorren guessed, he would never have to find out for himself if that was true.
Every eye followed them as the Mandalorian threw two tracking fobs on the table. The holos sprang to life and the profiles of one of the Twi’leks and the human greeted the rest of the bar.
“I can bring you in warm. Or I can bring you in cold. Your choice.”
The soft voice of the Mandalorian surprised Dorren.
It was not at all what he had expected; everything he had ever heard of the Mandalorians had made them out to be rough and intimidating.
Not that the Mandalorian a few feet away wasn’t intimidating, quite the opposite actually. Everything about them screamed danger, from the lines of their expensive and otherworldly armor to the weapons that could be seen in various places on their person. Still, the voice was unexpected and even though he tried, Dorren couldn’t come up with a better word than ‘soft’.
But then, it didn’t really matter what he thought about the Mandalorian but what the three men they were there for thought about them. And they didn’t seem intimidated at all.
“Now now, Mando,” the leader of their little group, the taller Twi’lek, said as he patronizingly waved his hand through the air. “I’m sure we can talk about this like the civilized people we are.” He sounded far too calm and relaxed in the face of a Mandalorian bounty hunter. Confidently, he then patted the chair in front of him in a clear invitation to sit down.
The silver beskar armor didn’t betray any emotion as the Mandalorian started to repeat themself. “I can bring you in-”
“Yeah yeah, warm or cold, we got it the first time around. How about you sit down and we buy you a drink? Barkeep, a drink for our friend here!”
“Cusrasu,” the other Twi’lek pleaded with his friend.
Meanwhile, the bartender didn’t move a single scaled finger. Ishuz was instead still staring at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet, showing a restraint that, until now, Dorren hadn’t even been sure she possessed. Normally, she broke up fights before they could even start and booted the offending parties out of her bar to kill or maim each other somewhere else.
Cusrasu sighed in annoyance and then drew his blaster. Or better: attempted to draw his blaster. But before it could even leave its holster the Mandalorian had drawn a vibroblade and stabbed it right through the man’s now useless hand.
Screaming in agony, Cusrasu cradled his hand close to his chest and blood gushed all over his clothes.
“What the kriff,” he panted and shot the Mandalorian a glare of which Cusrasu probably hoped it would convey hatred and the promise of death but in actuality was instead greatly diminished by his watery eyes and palling complexion.
A second later bottles of spotchka tumbled off the table and crashed to the floor.
A painful sounding crunch echoed through the room. The head of the unconscious human had connected hard with the surface.
By now, the whole table was covered in blood and alcohol.
Dorren wasn’t so sure what had happened but by the way the man’s right hand now rested loosely on his blaster he had probably tried to draw it. The Mandalorian just had been faster and grabbed him before he had the chance to use it.
Calmly, the Mandalorian then drew their own blaster and pointed it at the third and now only uninjured occupant of the table.
“I have no business with you. Let go of that knife you got there, keep your hands where I can see them and you are free to go,” they threatened quietly and, displaying the first smart decision of the group for this evening, the Twi’lek slowly raised his hands.
“Coward,” Cusrasu hissed at him.
“Shut up and for once in your life acknowledge when you’re defeated,” the smart Twi’lek mumbled.
“Now, do you come with me or-” for the second time in as many minutes the Mandalorian got interrupted, this time by the door.
With a loud bang it crashed against the wall taking with it some of the dirty layers that now snowed down on the even dirtier floor.
“Djarin!” a distorted voice bellowed. “What is it you think you are doing?”
All heads but one swiveled around to the newcomer. The Mandalorian kept his gaze on his bounties.
At the door stood another Mandalorian.
They wore blue armor and held themself with an air of authority even the first Mandalorian didn’t manage to pull off.
By now Dorren was so done with the night. One Mandalorian was bad enough but two was something else entirely. Was this the new Mandalorian meeting place or something? Because if so he was going to need to find a new bar. This was just too much.
“Kryze,” was the only word the silver Mandalorian said. Dorren didn’t know what it meant but going by the Mandalorian's tone it might have been a swear word.
“That’s all you’re going to say?” The disbelief in the blue Mandalorian's voice was evident even without having to see their face.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Actually, now that you mention it. I don’t want you to say anything right now. Except maybe that you're sorry and that you won’t run away again!”
“You’re not my minder, Kryze.” - not a swear word but a name then - “If I want to go out and do my job I have every right to do that.”
Kryze laughed dryly. “Your job. Your job? I don’t know how often we have to tell you this but you have a new ‘job’.”
“I told you I needed a break.”
“You can’t just take a break! You have responsibilities to your people.”
Even the people who hadn’t until then but by now the entire bar eyed the two only exits lovingly. This wasn’t something anyone was comfortable witnessing even if no one was really sure why.
Dorren considered the merits of making a break for it when Ayneshivvirl, their only resident Wookiee, was the first one actually brave enough to move.
Slowly she began standing up but when she shoved her chair back over the uneven tiles it started screaming bloody murder and two emotionless helmets swiveled at once in her direction. Even slower, Ayneshivvirl sat back down again.
The Mandalorian used that distraction to fully turn to Kryze. None of the two moved as they had a silent stare off.
Fascinated and afraid, Dorren wondered how they were able to tell anything about the other. There were no facial expressions to go on, no changing of anything. The tension only rose until-
“Wahh.” A high pitched noise pierced the silence.
Everyone, including the Mandalorian, stared down at their hip as it began to move on its own and a small green head appeared from under the cape. Something that seemed to be a baby blinked first slowly at the person who was carrying them and then Kryze and the rest of the bar.
“Patu?”
The Mandalorian deflated and carefully patted the baby’s head. “Yeah kid, playtime’s over.”
Kryze on the other hand seemed to grow even more in height. “You took the child with you?”
“He was bored too,” the Mandalorian tried to defend themself. “And how is that any of your concern? Last time I checked you didn’t give a kriff about him.”
“Of course I give a kriff about him! If something would happen to him the Mand’alor would lose his shit which is definitely something I’m concerned about.”
“I'm not surprised in the slightest of your way of reasoning.”
With both Mandalorians seemingly distracted, Cusrasu saw that as his last chance at freedom.
Dorren saw almost as if in slow motion how he grabbed for the human’s abandoned blaster and raised it, pointing it directly at the baby.
Without turning their head the Mandalorian rammed their elbow into the Twi’lek’s face, instantly breaking his nose.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” the Mandalorian whispered and then dragged the other man over the table. With their other hand they reached for something on their belt and a second later Cusrasa was cut in half from the waist down. He twitched and gurgled for a few long seconds before finally dying.
“Well, seems like I’m done here anyways,” the Mandalorian said after they retracted their glowing sword back into its hilt and refastened it back in its place on their belt. “But what's left of those two is coming with me.”
There is a small pause where the Mandalorian looks down at their baby, who’s happily staring at the people around them, before refocusing on Kryze. “You might as well help. Bodies are heavy.”
“I’m not your personal aid, Djarin.”
“No, but what would happen to your precious Mand’alor if the human wakes up again before I’m ready? Or maybe one or more of the people here decide to attack me? They could even get lucky and shoot or kill me.”
None of the people here was even thinking of attacking them and everyone, including the Mandalorians, knew it.
“I cannot stand you sometimes, you know that?” Kryze finally groaned and walked over.
“Everyone is aware of that fact, believe me. Speaking of, where are the others anyways? I can’t imagine them letting you search for me on your own.”
“They’re waiting outside, didn’t want to get in the way.”
“... Understandable.”
There was a moment where the Mandalorians silently debated which one would take the unconscious human and which one would take the cut in half Twi’lek.
In the end, Kryze grabbed Cusrasu’s hand and dragged him behind them while leaving a messy trail behind, and the Mandalorian threw one of the human’s arms over their shoulder.
Curious of what's going on, the baby tried to take a look at the man but the Mandalorian's bulk blocked its sight and when it tried to climb out of its bag, the Mandalorian gently but firmly pushed it back in.
“No, stay.”
When they reached Ishuz, one hand disappeared into their pockets and then they dropped a handful of credits on the bar counter.
“Sorry for the mess.”
With a few swift steps they caught up with Kryze before they were at the door and Dorren could hear the Mandalorian ask “How did you even find us?”
The answer was swallowed by the opening door but the indignant “He wouldn’t!” was loud enough for everyone to hear, before the door closed again behind the two Mandalorians.
It took a moment but slowly the noise level rose again as everyone started to chatter excitedly about the last few minutes.
One of the two kitchen helpers came in and started to efficiently clean the floor and table off of blood and other things while the only remaining member of the once trio fled through the backdoor as soon as he was able to stand without passing out.
Dorren finished his drink of remaining spotchka in one go before also standing up.
Maybe he should go back home to his family and rethink all the life choices that led him to this point.