𝖁𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎 !
VIII. VIGILANCE

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KERA VERR JOLTED AWAKE from her belligerent slumber, the sounds of a persistent alarm echoing within her ears. Standing, Kera could see that K-3SO was powered down, slumped against the wall by her chair. The droids optics flared a blistering white, alert and attentive, brought back to an active state by Kera's movements. The Frog Lady remained to snore in her sleep and Kera hoped that her sleep was pleasant and restful.

   Noting that she would have no choice, Kera urgently collapsed into the pilot's chair, her gaze skimming over the controls and switches. As she tampered with the controls, a masculine voice echoed throughout the cockpit, "Razor Crest, M-One-Eleven. Come in, Razor Crest. Do you copy?"

She could feel those white optics of K-3SO on the back on her chair, that droid of hers probably had so much to say yet undoubtedly knew that Kera could willingly handle it at ease.

  Kera's voice was clear and even as she kicked up her feet to rest on the controls. "M-One-Eleven. This is Razor Crest. I am inquired to ask if there is an issue? Over and out."

"We noticed your transponder is not emitting."

Kera couldn't feign the panic that coursed through her veins but she had done her best to ensure her voice was even, enthusiastic and warm in her answer. Yet, all she could think of where was the Mandalorian? The Razor Crest was his ship and his responsibility.

"Oh. Well, that's too bad. I believe that this ship is fairly old, perhaps pre-Empire surplus which means it is not required to run a beacon. . . right? Nevertheless, how was your day?" 

"That was before. This section is under New Republic jurisdiction. All craft are required to run a beacon. My day, well, Wolf and I, are out on patrol."   

"Uh, that's right. . . Wait a moment please. I'll get it working," Kera drawled slowly, flicking off the comms unit once the New Republic pilot confirmed that it wasn't a problem. The doors to the cockpit flew open, Kera lowered her feet from the dash a little sheepishly and swerved in her seat to face the Mandalorian ── and K-3SO who surveys and calculates her every movement, undoubtedly following sole his programming.

  "New Republic pilots on Patrol. They want you to run a beacon, it's a new requirement for all crafts since the dawn of the New Republic. Apparently, it doesn't matter that the Razor Crest is pre-Empire surplus."

The Mandalorian gave a sharp nod brushing past Kera and settling in the Pilot's seat. Kera had been expecting a much more displeased reaction. She was honestly very surprised.

Kera too settled in her seat from before, the red leather surprisingly soft and worn, despite how it seemed that it wasn't used much. The sight of the crimson coloured seat was almost too much to bear. Kera hated red. The horrid colour seemed to follow her just as how the tragedy in her veins did. It was too much of a reminder, too stifling, to compressing and suffocating on her lungs──

"Just one more thing."

Those words of the New Republic Pilot were enough to snare Kera's attention to the moment at hand. Blinking twice, Kera straightened in her chair and as clear as day she could see how the Mandalorian was hesitant in flicking comms unit back on. His voice was clear and slightly waspish, nevertheless, his smooth baritone was modulated by his helmet as he spoke, "Yes?"

"Oh, you're not the lady. Anyways, I'm gonna need you to send us a ping. We're out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts."

From behind her seat, K-3SO had attempted to whisper but failed nevertheless as he leant to speak to Kera, "My diagnostics calculate that the chance of capture has risen to  eighty percent."

"Kaythree!" Kera hissed to her droid. "Be quiet!"

The Mandalorian seemed to be heedful as he strung together an answer. "I'll let you know if I see any."

Kera couldn't help it when her expression morphed into one of scepticism and puzzlement. Why did the Mandalorian not mention her? Was something wrong? Where they all in danger? Was the Mandalorian in trouble with the New Republic?

"I'm still gonna need you to send us that ping."

The Mandalorian didn't hesitate. "Well, I'm not sure I have that hardware online."

Kera's fingers curled into fists once he recognised what was going on. It pained her that she couldn't mutter a word because all that rumbled through Kera's mind was that she ought to give that tin can a piece of her mind. Yet, a miracle as it was that if he somehow managed to wiggle them all out of this situation, Kera knew that he'd be helpless to her wrath, even if he was a Mandalorian.

There was no hesitation in the Pilot's answer."We can wait."

Kera wanted to truly smile at the helplessness of the situation. She wanted to laugh in the Mandalorian's face and inform him that he had somehow brought this all upon himself. That he had finally lost to the odds. But Kera didn't utter a word. She couldn't bring herself too. For there was a little green child somehow in the hull, presumably lost in a deep slumber and that child needed that Mandalorian. The child needed the protection, security, nurturing and safety that of which the Mandalorian provided.

And somehow, in her own way, Kera knew deep down that the child needed her too.

"Yeah, I. . . Doesn't seem to be, uh, working."

"That's too bad. If we can't confirm that you're not Imperial, you're gonna have to follow us to the outpost at Adelphi. They'll run your tabs."

It was exactly two seconds before the Mandalorian had reacted. "Oh wait. There it is! Transmitting now." Kera was humoured by both his reaction and enthusiasm in his tone as he reached forwards to flick a switch on the dashboard. He was proving to be a terrible liar.

The Frog Lady seemed to jolt awake, letting out a jumble of croaks. Kera recognised that she'd have to handle it.

It had taken Kera almost everything she had to make her voice gentle and soothing. "Hey. It's alright. You just have to be quiet."

"Bright suns!" K-3SO greeted the Frog Lady, with his all too familiar flare of enthusiasm. It was a real shame the droid didn't know how to be quiet.

"Be quiet!" Kera hissed, swerving in her seat to face K-3S0 and the Frog Lady.

"What's that?" The New Republic Pilot questioned.

". . . Uh, nothing. The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold."

    "Yeah!" Kera supported, letting a little giggle burst from her lips. "It's been really loud lately. We'll have to have it looked at."

The Mandalorian had looked over his shoulder at Kera and she couldn't tell if he was angered by the fact she had spoken or thankful or whether it was shut up. Kera gave a little thumbs up and Kera could almost feel that the Mandalorian was glowering at her. A smirk danced upon her lips as he swerved in his seat to face the controls once again. Oh, that badass tin can is defiantly thankful, she had decided and in a way, Kera had been right.

The other New Republic Pilot ── Wolf ── interjected, "Carson, can you switch over to channel two?"

Carson answered. "Copy."

Silence filtered through the air for a moment. Stifling and unyielding. And Kera was considering to contribute some sort of icebreaker, but regrettably, she couldn't contribute such a thing because her words were cut off by the New Republic Pilot. "Was your craft in the proximity of New Republic Transport, Bothan-Five?"

"We're all going to die!" K-3SO shrieked, his robotic fingers clinging to the headrest of Kera's seat for some sort of comfort.

"This isn't the time for your dramatics!" Kera gritted out as the Razor Crest dived forwards at a speed Kera didn't think the gunship was capable of. It made Kera wish she had time to buckle up her safety belt, she had no idea of how this could possibly end.

The Razor Crest plummeted downwards through the atmosphere of an ice-covered planet as the two X-Wings hot on their tail. Kera could feel how her stomach twisted and turned, adrenaline pumping through her veins as her fingers gripped the armrests of her chair for dear life. She hadn't been on a chase like this in so long that it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Razor Crest, stand down. We will fire. I repeat we will fire."

It was all happening so fast. Kera could hardly register or comprehend what going on or how the Mandalorian planned to lose the two New Republic Pilots. All he seemed to do was maneuver about for a bit, that was until the Razor Crest stopped altogether and nosedive towards the surface of the planet.

The Frog lady screamed, echoing throughout the cockpit as they plummeted to what Kera seemed to recognised as their untimely death. She had honestly thought it would be something more heroic and something a whole lot more memorable and something of which that would make her legendary.

Kera had been aboard the infamous Millenium Falcon through countless adventures in her stupid, reckless and very early days in smuggling with her friends Han Solo and Chewbacca. Kera decided that in her definite short time she and K-3SO would travel with the Mandalorian and his child, that if they possibly end up in some sort of a situation like this again ── Kera was piloting. Kera knew she'd somehow convinced the Mandalorian, maybe she could best him in a game of Sabacc? Kera was absolutely positive she could win she had been taught by the best in the parsec. She didn't even need K-3SO statistics and calculations for that.

"Come on Razor Crest. Don't make us do it."

When the Mandalorian lowered into a canyon sculpted of pure ice, Kera sort of got the gist of the Mandalorian's plan. Somehow the helmet head wasn't as terrible pilot as she originally thought. That he had some sort of idea at what he was doing. Kera still wished that she was piloting. All of this ── this whole chase thingy would probably be over by now.

The sides of the jagged ice canyon seemed to tighten, suffocate the body of the Razor Crest as the Mandalorian made a sharp turn. Kera didn't like how this was going. It was too easy. Too simple. The Mandalorian needed to do something. You needed to be the hunter. Not the prey.

Relief flourished through her insides for a short moment when the canyon widened revealing a gap in the large towering wall that seemed to span for metres on end. Oh, no, Kera realised. She knew what he was going to do even before he did it. It was risky. But smart. Kera was even if it was for a short moment, thought about complimenting him.

The Razor Crest swerved, itching its way past the openings of the cavern and into the condensed, restricting ice walls that surrounded all sides ── everywhere, in fact. It was all Kera could see. The Mandalorian's voice echoing throughout the cockpit hardly informed Kera and she suspected the others too of what was to come, "Hold, on."

The belly of the Razor Crest slammed against the hard, smooth, icy surface, sliding against it at an alarming speed. The thrusters enabled little support as the Razor Crest collided once again against the icy surface. Kera jolted every time, able to imagine how much damage was being done to the poor gunship. Kera recognised that if this was how the Mandalorian cared for his ship, it was a wonder it was still in working order.

Kera was at a loss of breath, her fingernails digging into the plush red leather of her seat as the Razor Crest finally came to a complete stagnant stop. The static of the voices of the New Republic Pilots stemming from the comms unit was hardly audible and Kera recognised it as a good thing.

The Frog Lady shivered, unbuckling her seat. Kera frowned at that and turned in her chair to face her droid, white optics meeting her own and Kera pressed a hand over the K-3SO's robotic fingers. Stay, those brown eyes of hers seemed to say. It isn't over yet. Waiting for those New Republic Pilots out wasn't all that bad of an idea, however, knowing that they had to travel sublight made things so much riskier.

Crunching and the rumbling sound of the ice breaking made Kera shuffle back to face forwards in her seat and buckle up her safety belt. That wasn't good. That wasn't good. It felt as if Kera's heart was in her throat as they descended downwards (as did the temperature) as she, along with the others braced for the impact.

Kera attempted to call for her K-3SO, then for the Mandalorian but her attempts were helpless. One, the words never left her lips and two, Kera Verr had already sunken into unconsciousness.