╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮

(beskad)
slightly curved saber of beskar
╰━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╯

Everything was on fire.
Davan coughed and sputtered, feeling like a kid again. When his abuela would keep him home from the schoolhouse.
Davan hit the console on his way down. The world was almost beautiful, painted in shades of glittering gold and red. His head ached where he had hit it.
Someone was besides him, lifting his head and shifting him. "Hey," she said, her voice trembling like that instrument he used to play, the one that he lost, the one that he-
he-
Her hand was warm on his cheek.
She turned to the rest of the group, saying something he missed. Davan stared at her helmet, transfixed by the edges and swirls, kaleidoscopes of red filling his vision.
She looked back down and Davan reached up. He traced a hand along the metal and she tended for a moment.
"They're real? You guys are," he trailed off, his breath rattling. It was just like the story his abuela told him, stories of peace keepers that wore the face of monsters.
He felt cold.
She grabbed his hand, her grip warm and gentle. "We are."
"I thought," he gasped for air, his breath trembling in his throat. "I thought it was just a fairytale." A half laugh. Her voice was low and thick when she responded.
"A lot of fairytales have a little truth in them." She sniffled. Her hands started moving, stroking his hair as if to calm him.
"Are you," he stuttered. "Are you crying?" She didn't respond. "It's okay to cry."
She gave a slow exhale. "I know."
Davan's gaze darted across her visor, seeking eye contact somehow.
"Do Mandalorians not take off their helmets?" Davan's throat felt cracked and he coughed a wet, heaving cough.
"Some don't. My partner that was in here a minute ago doesn't."
"And you?"
She was quiet. "What do you look like?" Her hands stopped and pulled away. She pulled off her helmet.
She had scars, old enough that they healed into a dark patches and speckles splattered across her skin like a monochrome galaxy, dripping down her face like her tears that sparkled like supernovas.
She couldn't have been older than he was.
Everything felt so cold.
Davan reached up, brushing his hand against a scar above her brow.
His breath gasped and shuddered in his chest before stilling.

━━✶━━

It was her fault again. "No," she whispered, voice hitching. She could've saved him. If she'd been faster, if she didn't hold herself back. "No, no, no."
The wound was fatal, the knife had nestled itself deep in his chest, likely punching through the sternum and into one of the heart chambers.
She pulled her helmet back on.
The red mandalorian pulled Davan's hands to his chest, so that they folded neatly.
She uttered a quick, hushed prayer that she heard mikata say once or twice, one to his gods, the ones the Watch swore the Creed to, and wondered if they were around to hear it. Would the Faceless One truly bear Davan's soul to manda, or was that only for Mandalorians?
She stood.
She pulled the hood back over her head.
A flicker of movement caught her gaze. Mikata on the cams, bolting through the halls. He reached the entrance, leaning on the doorframe and panting slightly.
"We've been betrayed."
"Did we expect anything else?"
More movement on the cams caught their attention. The group had stopped, seemingly screaming.
Mikata approached the console, tracing a hand until he found what he was looking for.
"We should hide." She narrowed her eyes beneath her helmet.
"What did you do?"
"Jammed their comms." Burg's yell echoed through the ship.
"The things people can do when they can read." Mikata let out a soft laugh. He glanced up. The red mandalorian followed his gaze.
"Gimme a boost and I can pull you up."
Mikata curled his hand, signing a smile.

━━✶━━

"Can you handle Burg alone? I wanna go fuck up Xi'an." Mikata glanced at her.
"I'll let that one slip. Yeah, I can handle Burg."

She slipped out of the vent, landing softly before drawing herself up to her full height. "Xi'an."
The woman stopped in her tracks. "I was looking for Mando," she purred. "But I suppose his pet will do."
She whirled around, her wrist flicking and a blade shot out.
Metal on metal rang out and the red mandalorian stumbled back, sparks flying from where the blade had hit her helmet.
Xi'an moved towards her, another blade in hand.
The red mandalorian raised her arm, pressing her gauntlet. Her grappler shot out, the length of it sparking as Xi'an got tangled.
She yanked and the two collided, tumbling to the floor. Xi'an growled shoving away.
The red mandalorian scrambled to her feet, a beskad in each hand. She stayed low and silent. Xi'an moved slowly, pacing from side to side and flipping her knife in her hand.
"Well, are you going to do something?" Xi'an snapped. The red mandalorian tilted her head. "Well?" Xi'an felt faint, her head seemingly stuffed with cosmic dust.
"Hmm," was all the red mandalorian responded. She twirled a blade idly. "Family doesn't mean much to your brother, does it?"
Xi'an stepped back, confused. "What are you talking about?"
The red mandalorian hummed. "I'm giving you a warning. Blood means nothing."
Xi'an heard the footsteps a second too late. She only felt searing pain in her head and the impact of the floor.

━━✶━━

"Can I kick her?" Mikata shrugged.
"I won't stop you."

AN: this might be a good time to say that this is technically an au and by that i mean i'm doing what i want with world building and mechanics (: