It's seven hours before the 25th day since Din and Grogu left. The majority of the other Mandalorians have also left the planet. Rumor has it that they have joined their comrades to help rebuild Mandalore. There's probably less than five percent of them still living in the camp outside the city. There's an unsettling feeling in the air. Today, the shipyard is vertically empty and there's been an increase in security guards patrolling in the streets. Yet they are short-staffed, which makes everyone feel on edge.

It is late in the evening when Alysia decided to go to the cantina. She is in need of something strong to numb the overactive gears turning in her head. So she sits and order a shot. Then a second one just for good measure. It is clear now that Din and Grogu will not be coming back. To make matters worse, the Force has been uncooperative for the past few days.

She always had an active imagination. It was useful most of the time, especially when she was a young girl. Anytime she got bored or needed some entertainment, she'd let her creativity take her for a ride. Her mind continues to play tricks on her. She pictures Din bleeding out in his ship after an unsuccessful mission, floating in the middle of deep space, drifting away into the endless void with a helpless child by his side. In her experience, she knows better than to allow her reckless impulses to take control over her rational thinking. Emotions can be dangerous and risky.

Being a Mandalorian and a bounty hunter, she knows the life that Din leads, the choices he makes, and the uncertainty he faces each and every day. She has never considered herself to be a needy person. At no point did she feel she might be special to him. Still, she feels a connection with him. He knows what she is; and despite the fact that she's relieved to finally have told someone the truth after all these years, she's also petrified of what may happen if word got out.

After searching far and wide for others like her, Alysia never thought she would see another Force-sensitive again. She knew many have either been killed, or kidnapped by the Empire for their heinous experiments. Therefore, it was a total shock to discover that Grogu knew about the Jedi. Nevertheless, there must be a reason why the child appeared in her dreams. It is something she has been trying to uncover ever since she first met the boy and his protective father.

***

As Alysia sat on a stool at the bar, she watches the other patrons as her eyes flickering around at everyone. Today the place was packed with other guests, all drinking, laughing and flirting with each other. Then in an instant, all noise and chatter immediately goes silent as the sounds of slow, heavy footsteps are heard stomping into the cafe. As the door swooshes closed, the air suddenly got thick with tension. Gasps are heard as the other guests scamper away in all directions, trying to avoid the menacing presence that is now meandering into the bar.

She looks around and noticed that everyone had stepped away from the bar. Yet she stayed absolutely still as this large, and intimating silhouette of a man in dark green, yellow and red armor steps up beside her. She watched him casually place his gloved hands onto the edge of the table with a soft thump, but she does not move. The only sounds that can be heard is his steady, gentle breathing through a steel helmet.

As she looks to her right, she discovers the center of all the anxiety. The man standing next to her was none other than the new Daimyo of Tatooine in his trademark armor as he maintained his gaze forward at the droid behind the counter. A cold chill ran up her spine as she tries to step away from the infamous ex-bounty hunter.

Out of fear, she stumbles backwards and into a cold, steel wall. Her left hand immediately shoots down towards her lightsaber tucked under her robes in a frantic attempt to conceal it. Her right hand clamps down to firmly grip onto a sturdy, solid forearm wrapped in leathery fabric, while her feet trip over a pair of large boots. Then a deep, modulated voice is heard behind her, giving her an instant sense of calm.

"Fett?" Din questioned, his steel frame firmly pressed against her back, but he made no attempts to move away. In fact, he welcomed her closeness; an act that surprised them both. Even though there's an armored plate separating them, he can feel her back pressed up against his steel frame. He can sense her heat beginning to radiate through his beskar. Yet, neither one of them move.

"Nice place you got here," Boba said as he looks around the room, his deep voice the only sound being heard. Then his helmet drops to refocused onto Alysia grabbing onto Din's arm in a vice grip. "Am I — uh, interrupting anything?"

"Is there something I can help you with?" Din snapped back.

"Haven't heard from you in weeks," Boba replied calmly.

"I told you," Din retorted. "I'm not going after any Hutt loyalists."

Fett laughed darkly, "I'm not here for that, Djarin. You'd know that if you answered my comms."

"Then why are you here?" Din answered.

"I'm restarting the Guild on Tatooine. I'm here to recruit you."

"The Guild?"

"That's right. It's all legal. I even have authorization from your buddies at the New Republic."

"So you're all legitimate now?"

"For this I am. It's good money and it makes sense. After all, I know the business. What do you say?"

Alysia hears Din let out a sigh in response, but did not respond.

"Look," Boba said, his hands up as he tries to explain himself. "When you're finished with — " he began to negotiate as he returned his helmeted gaze back down to the woman standing between them. "Whatever this is," he says gesturing to Alysia before looking back up at Din. "Come meet me in the landing yard. I got something that might change your mind. You know how well I take care of my friends."

Din sighed again in frustration, "I'll be there shortly." Boba simply nodded in response and left the cantina. The moment the front door swooped closed behind him, all the noise and chatter started back up again.

Alysia was still shaking when Boba left the room. She feels Din step closer behind her as her body stiffens up. Her initial reaction is to jolt up straighter, which causes his beskar chest plate to connect more flush with her back. She gulped in a breath of air when she feels his solid chest against her, so warm as a result of being out in the sun.

She doesn't know why she's allowing him to do this. Perhaps it's because she's been so terribly lonely all these years, or maybe it's because he's such a loving and vigilant parental figure to the small, Force-sensitive child of the same species as Master Yaddle. In truth, it could also be the alcohol in her system. Since she has accepted his presence, he closes the tiny gap between them even further, connecting her small frame perfectly against his broad figure.

"You alright?" He asked, gently placing his gloved hand on her shoulder. "You're trembling," the heaviness of his palm and his protective presence making her feel more at ease.

"Are you friends with him?"

"You mean Fett?" He questioned. "Yeah, uh—we've done business together—why do you ask?"

"He's not a fan of my kind."

"Don't worry," he says as he watches her shoulders gradually drop, her body loosens up as she lets out an exhale. "I haven't told anyone."

It seems she has a plan of her own when she spins around, planting both of her hands on his metal chest. Her stomach has a warm flutter in it, which is surprising. Because it's something she hasn't felt in a very long time. He's an honorable man, that part is evident by how he keeps his promises.

There is a moment when it felt like she may start to dissolve into him. He tracks her eyes running across his breastplate, he tilts his helmeted head down to look at her and he knows he's not hiding his eagerness, but he couldn't care less. The urge to touch her is fierce, like a wild and primal impulse that's amplified by her lack of uneasiness and her close proximity.

Then she throws him off once again as one of her hands glide over to squeeze hard onto his bicep, the unarmored space between his wrist vambrace and shoulder pauldron, kneading the firm muscle there. She's the second person to ignore his intimating appearance. The kid was always gentle with him, but Grogu is innocent and needs care. This is an entirely different situation. If her touch was a sound, it would be a whisper that would leave his ears resonating.

A brief moment of silence falls between them as she begins to melt into him, her forehead now resting on his chest plate as she whispers, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," he says truthfully, but could not figure out the right words to explain why he's late. How could he tell her that he nearly got captured by the Imperials again? "I'm sorry I was—delayed."

"I thought you left with the others," she says softly as she tilts her head up to look into his helmeted gaze.

"No, I-" he says as he swallows hard, his voice dropped to a low baritone. "I gave you my word."

Her fingers move to trace the diamond in the center of his armored breast plate, admiring the craftsmanship as she smiles softly. "So where's the little one?" She asked, noticing that the boy was not at his side.

"Outside with the marshal," Din answered flatly, moving to rest his gloved hand on top of hers.

"Do you think we could—?" She tries to ask but wasn't sure if he would be offended. "Never mind."

"Go ahead," he says. "You can ask me anything."

"I don't want to be disrespectful of your culture."

Just one week ago, he shot someone who had tried to remove his helmet in an underground bar fight on Nar Shaddaa. So it is impossible for him to see how a woman like her could say or do anything that would upset him. To her surprise, he lets out a low chuckle. "I highly doubt that."

"Well—I was just wondering if you could—" she says as she clears her throat, watching as her eyes move to his hand on top of hers. "—take off your gloves?"

It was such an innocent and simple request. How could he get angry by those words? In truth, no one's ever asked him this before. He's touched and been touched many, many times throughout his life. He's witnessed countless other couples holding hands, even some of his comrades. Yet this moment felt like a dream, and he hopes he doesn't wake up.

The kid provided him with the companionship he didn't know he needed. Yet something was still missing in his life. There was an emptiness in his heart that he cannot ignore, no matter how hard he tried. Underneath his tough exterior, was a restless and lonely man who is too proud to admit he was fed up with being alone. There was no way he was going to deny himself the opportunity to experience physical touch with someone as pretty and as interesting as her.

She watched him lean back to yank both his gloves off before stuffing them in his pocket. He quickly returns to his original position, resting his right arm on the table as he presents her with his now bare palm to her. Her heart skipped a beat as her fingers gentle touches Din's palm, experiencing skin-no-skin contact with him for the first time. Her touch is soft, feather-like and timid. They both jerk and gasp on impact as her fingertips gently trace the fine lines of his palm.

Little by little, the tips of her fingers caress the smooth warmth of his hand. After spending nearly a lifetime wearing gloves, his hands are remarkably smooth and silky. Covered with scars, they are made for pulling triggers and striking his enemies. Designed for killing and inflicting pain, yet in this moment, his hands were neither aggressive nor threatening.

Unlike with the other women he's been with, Din is confronted with affection and kindness as Alysia continues gliding her fingers softly along the inside of his palm. He is a killer. Hardened and cruel. There is an emotion he is experiencing, a feeling he cannot identify flows through him as her fingers shift to entwine with his in a tight grip.

He sees this part of himself as a separate person than what is standing in front of her. Right now, he's not a hunter or a Mandalorian. At this moment, he's just a man starved for intimacy and touch. He looks down at her other hand as his body becomes overstimulated, which overpowers his mind and rational thought.

Next, she feels a steel arm wrap around her waist as he draws her in even closer, molding his solid sectors into her warm and yielding ones. Alysia slowly lets the warm smile slide across her face once again, he sighs as he is reminded that she's weaponizing her kindness as her smile works on him.

"Can I—" Din started to say, but gulped visibly before continuing. "—call you sometime?"

"Of course," she blurted out. It was not her intention to appear so desperate, but her desire overwhelmed her self-control. Yet still, she eagerly provided him with her Comlink number.

"I have a long range system in my home office. It's how I order all of my supplies," she says as she watches him enter her digits into his wrist vambrace. "So how long will you be in town?"

"Not long," he says softly as he sighs heavily and steps away from her. "I should go."

"When will I see you again?"

"Tonight?" He said, but it sounded more like a question than a demand.

"Okay," she answered with a smile. "And bring the kid this time."

He nods once in response before exiting out the front door without another word.