Chapter Text
f*ck, his head hurt.
The sprawling metropolis of Coruscant buzzed with life. The neon lights and constant hum of speeders created an annoying symphony of activity that never ceased. The Mandalorian moved through the crowded streets with a purposeful stride.
He had business to attend to, a bounty to collect.
He never much liked the city. There were too many people. Too many lights. Too much noise .
His target was rumored to be hiding out in a cantina also known to be an underground brothel, a favorite haunt for those looking to disappear in the city's endless expanse.
The Mandalorian pushed open the door to a dimly lit cantina. The air inside was thick with the scent of various alien cuisines and the murmur of hushed conversations. He made his way to a booth in the corner and scanned the room.
Inside were several beautiful ladies, all serving men their drinks. Their outfits left little to the imagination, a deliberate choice to entice the patrons and keep them spending their credits. Mando scanned the room, his helmeted gaze sharp as he made his way through the haze of smoke and chatter.
His target was one of the three men sitting at a table near the back, their eyes occasionally darting towards another table. The leader, a scruffy-looking human with a scar across his cheek, matched the description on the bounty puck perfectly.
They spoke quietly, laughing and whispering. He followed their gazes.
That's when he saw her.
The Mandalorian’s gaze drifted to a woman standing at the bar, and for a moment, he forgot about the bounty.
She was strikingly beautiful, a vision that seemed almost out of place in the gritty cantina. Her long black hair flowed like a cascade of midnight, framing a face that was both elegant and mysterious. Freckles dotted her nose, adding a touch of charm to her features. Her skin, a warm tan, glowed softly under the dim lights, hinting at a life spent under the sun of some far-off world.
Her curvy figure was accentuated by the form-fitting clothes she wore. Her tanned arms were exposed as she wore a faded blue cut-off shirt with long gray pants that hugged the delicious swell of her hips.
Her eyes were the most captivating of all—a piercing blue that seemed to hold a thousand untold stories. They were focused on a journal in front of her. She wrote quickly, eyes darting back and forth as she re-read her words.
She lifted her hand to bring a drink to her lips. Mando found himself tracing a bead of water as it slipped from the cold glass to her fingertips and dripped down the back of her hand.
As she moved, every gesture was fluid and deliberate, a testament to her self-assuredness. Her presence commanded attention without demanding it, a quiet allure that drew him in.
The Mandalorian couldn't help but be captivated by her presence.
The same way his target was.
Or was .
Their table now had two beautiful women joined at it. His bounty ran his hands down one of the woman’s arms as she giggled.
Mando's grip on his blaster tightened as he watched the scene unfold. The target was getting too comfortable, too distracted by the women vying for his attention. He should make a move.
But, his target was distracted.
And Mando wanted a closer look at the black-haired beauty at the bar.
Maybe he should just ask for a drink, possibly get to know her?
No, he shouldn’t.
He should get back to his bounty.
Suddenly his feet were moving and then he was standing next to her. Firstly, he noticed she smelled incredible. Hints of vanilla and something floral. Secondly, he noticed that she was absolutely irresistible up close and he couldn’t stop the next harsh words as they tumbled out of his mouth.
“How much?” he asked, leaning towards her.
She turned towards him, her eyes locking onto his helmeted face. There was a flicker of surprise in her gaze, quickly masked by a veil of practiced nonchalance. Setting down her drink, she turned her head away from him.
“I know you’re not talking to me.”
Maker, she was cute.
“That’s a shame,” he answered, letting his eyes fall back onto his bounty. He was still occupied. Mando could shamelessly flirt for a moment longer. “I was hoping to get to talk to you.”
Why was he being so bold with her? He always completed his job without making any pit stops, but tonight, he felt drawn in by her glow.
He was tempted to ask her to follow him to an inn nearby. His bounty would still probably be here tomorrow.
It had been a while since Mando had been with anyone else. Typically, he opted to pay for his companionship; it was simpler that way, ensuring he kept his distance from any emotional entanglements.
There was a particular establishment he frequented several times a year, way nicer than this one, always mindful not to choose the same woman twice, although it wasn't always easy.
He hadn’t not paid for sex in … ever. Perhaps, it was time for him to try it the old-fashioned way.
As he looked at the woman before him, a sudden rush of desire flooded his thoughts. He imagined countless ways to explore her, envisioning different positions and scenarios. He longed to see the blush of her cheeks, to taste the salt of sweat on her skin, and to lose himself in the intimacy that had bored him for so long.
She glanced back at him, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Maybe you should try asking the right questions," she retorted, her voice holding a hint of mischief.
The Mandalorian raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet, intrigued by her response. This was not the typical reaction he received when approaching a target or anyone for that matter. He found himself wanting to know more about this enigmatic woman in front of him.
Leaning in closer, he spoke lowly, "Alright then, what's your name?"
She scoffed and then downed her drink abruptly.
"Nice try, but I'm not here for that," she replied coolly, her eyes flashing with a hint of annoyance. "If you're looking for company, I suggest you look at them." She inclined her head towards the women at his bounty’s table.
The bounty was looking at the woman beside Mando again, and he didn’t even notice the big, burly, daunting bounty hunter beside her. He observed the men exchanging glances, their gazes lingering on the woman with a mixture of disdain and predatory intent.
The Mandalorian couldn't help but be captivated by her presence.
The same way his target was.
He forced his attention back to his task. He went to approach the men. Perhaps, if he took down a criminal she might get impressed and speak to him again.
Maker, what was wrong with him?
He had never been so desperate for a woman’s attention.
No matter. He would take down his bounty with no issue.
Assessing their worn attire and dented blasters with a practiced eye, he concluded they wouldn't pose much of a challenge to handle.
He was steps away from their table when they suddenly stood up, his bounty pushing a woman off his lap and moving to leave. Mando reached for his blaster but the men passed him, as if they didn’t even see them
He turned around, confused, to see the men heading out the door.
Mando took a glance at the bar to find the woman also gone. Her empty glass sat on the table where she had been working on her journal.
The men watched her leave for a moment and then they followed her out.
Stepping out quietly, the Mandalorian kept to the shadows, his senses attuned to the sights and sounds of the city. The air was thick with the scent of alien spices and engine exhaust, a heady mix that reminded him of countless nights spent hunting bounties across countless worlds.
In the narrow alley, the men had caught up to the woman, surrounding her with malicious intent. The leader – and Mando’s bounty – a burly human with a scarred face, grabbed her arm roughly, his voice laced with aggression.
Mando’s heart stuttered as he realized their intentions. Rage began to course through his veins.
"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" the bounty sneered.
The woman didn't flinch. With a swift movement, she twisted out of his grasp and delivered a sharp kick to his knee, sending him sprawling. The second man lunged at her, but she ducked and landed a punch to his gut, causing him to double over. The third man pushed her roughly and her head snapped against the stone building behind her.
The Mandalorian decided it was time to intervene. He stepped out of the shadows, his presence immediately commanding attention. The third man turned to face him, reaching for a blaster, but Mando was faster. In one fluid motion, he disarmed the man and knocked him out with a well-placed blow to the head.
The leader, now recovered, scrambled to his feet and drew a knife. Before he could attack, Mando grabbed his wrist and twisted it, forcing the knife to clatter to the ground. With a final punch, the man was out cold.
The woman stood there, breathing heavily but otherwise unharmed. She looked at him, her blue eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and suspicion. He noticed they sparkled and he almost fell to his knees.
He suddenly felt terrible for objectifying her. He wondered if she was skilled at fighting because this happened to her often. He wanted to kick himself for being such a disgusting piece of trash.
"Thanks for the... help," she said, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and reluctance. "I had it under control."
"I could see that," the Mandalorian replied, his helmet modulating his voice. "But, I wasn’t helping you. I was collecting my bounty.”
The woman's brows furrowed slightly, surprise flickering across her features. She glanced at the unconscious men strewn across the alley, then back at him with renewed curiosity.
"Bounty?" she echoed, her voice tinged with suspicion.
He nodded curtly, his expression hidden behind the reflective visor of his helmet. "You made it easy for me. Those men were wanted."
With deliberate efficiency, he knelt down beside the unconscious leader, effortlessly hoisting the man over his shoulder.
The Mandalorian's armor clinked softly as he adjusted the weight, securing the bounty without a word.
There was a brief silence between them, filled only by the distant hum of the city's night activities. He let his eyes roam over her, able to see her better in this light.
She was the most alluring creature he had ever seen.
It wasn't just physical attraction; there was something about her, a spark of intrigue that drew him in, a yearning to connect beyond the fleeting encounters he was accustomed to.
Yet, as compelling as the urge was, he hesitated. The Mandalorian way had ingrained a discipline that extended beyond battles and bounties. His helmet symbolized not just his identity but also his commitment to a code that demanded detachment.
Still, the temptation lingered, a silent challenge to the principles he upheld.
“You should be careful out here. Alley’s are filled with men like this. The streets aren’t safe,” he said, gruffly, fighting the urge to be one of those men and take her somewhere.
Maker , he’d get her to scream with pleasure, to writhe beneath him as he–
“The streets aren’t safe from me.”
The Mandalorian tilted his head at this, unsure whether or not he heard her correctly. Before he could say anything back to her she was rushing off, ducking into another alley and disappearing.
He stood there, momentarily stunned by her words and sudden departure. The air felt charged with a strange energy, a mix of tension and unspoken possibilities that lingered in the alleyway long after she had vanished.
Maker, he just needed to vent out his frustration. He would need to swing by the brothel after he turned in this bounty.
Shaking off the tumultuous thoughts that threatened to consume him, the Mandalorian refocused on his mission. With his bounty secured, he made his way back to where he had left his ship docked. The streets were eerily quiet now, the shadows whispering of hidden dangers that lurked just beyond sight.
Upon reaching his starship, the Razor Crest, he stowed away the unconscious man and set a course for the nearest outpost where he could collect his reward. The journey was uneventful, yet his thoughts kept drifting back to the enigmatic woman who had crossed his path.
If only he could have her… if just for a night.
Six Months Later
Mando entered Greef Karga's office on Nevarro, the ambient noise of the bustling city muted by the durasteel walls. Greef, seated behind his cluttered desk, greeted him with a warm smile that didn't quite reach his shrewd eyes.
"Mando," Greef said with a nod, motioning for him to take a seat amidst the scattered data pads and holographic displays. "It's been a while. How's the kid?"
Mando's gloved hand gently rested on the small hover crib beside him, where Grogu peered up with curiosity, his large ears twitching at Greef's voice. "He's growing – barely," Mando replied, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched Grogu playfully interact with Greef.
Greef chuckled, extending a finger for Grogu to grasp. "He's a charmer, this one. Always brightens the place up."
Mando nodded in agreement, briefly allowing himself to relax in the presence of a trusted acquaintance. "He's got his moments."
Their conversation drifted to the state of affairs on Nevarro and the challenges faced by the Guild in the post-Empire era. As they spoke, Mando's thoughts turned to business—he needed a job, something substantial to sustain his ongoing journeys with Grogu.
"Speaking of work," Mando interjected, steering the conversation towards the bounty board. "Any interesting marks lately?"
Greef's expression turned serious as he pulled up a holoprojector displaying various bounties, each accompanied by credits and details of the mark. "We've got a few," Greef began, tapping through the listings. "But there's one that's been making waves."
He slid a data pad across the desk towards Mando, who studied it intently.
An angel peered back at him.
"She's wanted for espionage," Greef explained, his voice lowering slightly. "Caught passing information to Moff Gideon's operatives. It's stirred up quite a storm."
Mando was well aware that Moff Gideon had escaped the New Republic’s custody several months ago. His disappearance haunted Mando, as he was worried about the kid now that Gideon could be anywhere.
The image that flickered in the air was familiar—a woman with striking blue eyes and long, dark hair. She was wearing a sick smile on her face, as if she didn’t care that she had been caught. A shiver ran down his spine.
Memories of their encounter on Coruscant resurfaced, accompanied now by a surge of conflicting emotions.
Mando’s dark glare prompted Greef to continue. "She's become quite the problem for some important folks," Greef explained, his voice tinged with a mix of caution and intrigue. "This bounty's got a big payout attached, Mando. Biggest we've seen in a while."
Mando's silence hung heavy in the room as he processed the situation. Pursuing this one meant more than just a bounty—it meant confronting a past temptation that had left its mark on him, testing his resolve and his adherence to the Mandalorian way. It also meant an opportunity to learn more about Moff Gideon.
He hadn’t quite forgotten about her. He remembered rushing to his favored brothel after he had turned in the bounty that had tried to assault her. The poor woman he had paid for had to endure three rounds with Mando, as the thoughts of that raven-haired beauty kept his co*ck hardening, even when he was exhausted.
He spent several nights thinking about this criminal alone in his ship at night, wishing he had asked her to follow him to an inn.
But, knowing she had helped Gideon meant that this woman was now entangled in a dangerous web of Imperial remnants and shadowy operations.
The urgency of the hunt intensified as Mando considered the implications—each step he took toward her could lead him closer to Moff Gideon's machinations, and potentially, to answers that could reshape the fate of the galaxy itself.
"Where was she last seen?" Mando asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions stirring beneath his beskar armor.
Greef leaned forward, "Out on the Rim," he replied, his tone serious. "Moving fast. If you're going after her, you'll need to move quicker."
Mando nodded once, his decision made.
Delilah, he thought, watching her name flicker along with her other information. She was a bit younger than him, and had been working for the New Republic since the fall of the Empire, a detail that piqued his interest. How had she gone from aiding the remnants of an oppressive regime to allegedly collaborating with Moff Gideon's forces? Was she working for the Empire first?
As he studied her image on the bounty puck, Mando couldn't shake the memory of their encounter on Coruscant. Her resilience and quick reflexes had left an impression, as had the complex mix of determination and vulnerability he glimpsed in her eyes.
Now, faced with the task of tracking her down, he wondered what had driven her to make such a drastic shift in allegiance.
Delilah.
He mouthed her name silently, the movement of his lips forming each letter with a deliberate rhythm. Delilah . The trip of his tongue against his teeth as he mouthed her name was rhythmic.
She was an enigma, he thought. Her pretty blue eyes, freckled nose, and the defiance in her stance on Coruscant replayed in his thoughts, each detail etched vividly despite the passage of time.
“Looks like she's trying to disappear,” Karga said as Mando was buried in his own thoughts. "She's been elusive," Greef remarked, gesturing towards the blinking coordinates on the holomap. "But you're the best tracker we've got. I'm confident you can find her."
Mando nodded, his resolve hardening. With one last glance at her image, he committed her features to memory before turning to leave Greef's office. The hunt was on, and as he stepped back into the bustling streets of Nevarro, the name Delilah echoed softly in his thoughts, a name that held the promise of answers, challenges, and perhaps even unexpected truths waiting to be uncovered.
The hunt awaited—a chance to capture a bounty, settle scores, and perhaps uncover the truth about this creature, the woman who had crossed his path and stirred both intrigue and conflict within his hardened heart.
He couldn’t wait until he got his hands on her.
He had so many plans.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two months had passed since Mando took on the hunt for Delilah, and the galaxy seemed to stretch endlessly before him, unfurling into an expanse of stars and shadows where she remained elusive. Each lead dissolved into dead ends, every rumor faded into whispers lost to the cosmic winds.
The hunt had become a relentless pursuit across star systems and distant planets, where the name Delilah echoed through cantinas and alleyways like a haunting refrain.
Mando's days blurred into a cycle of interrogations and clandestine meetings, his nights haunted by the fleeting memory of her blue eyes and the taste of an unanswered challenge.
Each failure to find her only fueled his determination further, a stubborn resolve that burned beneath the cool exterior of his beskar armor.
He loved it. The chase.
It would make the reward so much sweeter when he caught her.
He couldn’t wait.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the weeks stretched into months, Mando's pursuit of Delilah led him across the galaxy, chasing down leads that often teased him with false hope. One such lead brought him to a bustling spaceport on Nar Shaddaa, where rumors swirled of a mysterious figure stealing ship parts under the cover of darkness.
The chatter among the locals hinted at a skilled and elusive thief. The description was of a slender man with quick fingers and dark clothing.
Mando had seen how she had moved with grace and brute force when she had taken on her attackers. He knew she could pass for a man if needed.
Intrigued, he decided to investigate, his armor clinking softly as he weaved through the crowded alleys and neon-lit streets of the spaceport.
A mysterious ship had been docked on a far port, a VCX-100 Light Freighter, which matched the description of a ship that was stolen several months ago, right around the disappearance of Delilah.
Part of him hoped she wasn’t making this so easy for him, and another part hoped she was.
Mando cautiously navigated the bustling parts of the ship port, scanning the labyrinth of stalls and makeshift shops for any sign of the elusive figure he'd been tracking.
Amidst the clatter of droids and the hum of nearby engines, he spotted a cloaked silhouette rifling through a bin of salvaged components. The figure's movements were quick and purposeful, hinting at familiarity with the trade.
A smile broke across his face. He couldn’t wait to play with her.
He would make this game so sweet.
— Delilah —
“Yes!” Delilah hissed, wrapping her fingers around a discarded compressor coil that was in decent shape. It was the last part she needed to keep her ship running.
It seemed like the old thing was falling apart more and more lately.
She stuffed the coil in her cloak and looked around before she hurried off.
As Delilah approached her ship, a sense of unease crept over her, a prickling sensation at the back of her neck that hinted at impending danger. She moved swiftly, expertly piecing together the salvaged components she had gathered, her hands deft and sure as she worked to repair the minor damages to her ship.
As she neared the final stages of the repairs, a faint sound caught her attention—a subtle shift in the ambient noise around her that betrayed the presence of another. Her instincts on high alert, Delilah's gaze flickered towards the shadows, searching for any sign of movement or disruption.
And then she saw him—a dark silhouette lurking in the shadows, his form obscured by the dim light of the spaceport. A shiver ran down her spine as she recognized the unmistakable outline of Mandalorian armor, a figure whose presence heralded danger and conflict.
sh*t.
She hadn’t met many Mandalorians in her time, but she knew most of them were bound to their code. They were loyal, tough warriors.
But, that didn’t mean that this one was going to recognize her. She was wearing a large cloak that hid her figure and a mask that covered most of her face, except for her eyes.
"Busy day for salvaging," the man remarked casually, keeping his tone neutral beneath the modulated helmet.
Delilah noticed how broad his shoulders were, how large his arms were. For a moment, she couldn’t look away. But, she had to get moving.
She straightened, hands hovering protectively over the parts she'd gathered. "I find what I need," she replied tersely, her voice guarded. She went back to clipping wires and then closed the side panel of her ship.
"Do you need a hand?" he inquired, nodding towards the pile of parts at her feet. His gaze lingered on her, as if studying the determined set of her jaw and the confident way she handled the parts.
Her response was guarded, but she offered a vague answer, "Just maintenance." She tried to seem as annoyed as possible so that he might move on.
Seemingly unfazed by her guarded demeanor, Mando remained patient. "Good day for it," he observed.
What did that mean?
She didn’t like the feeling that was trickling down her spine. He sounded… familiar.
Mando lingered for a moment longer, gauging her reaction.”I’m looking for a bounty.”
He stepped closer to her and she tensed again. She could see the brilliant shine of his armor in the light of the port. His armor was immaculate.
sh*t.
This was the bounty hunter she ran into on Coruscant. If he was a bounty hunter then it was almost positive he had seen her bounty puck. She already had 12 hunters after her. She escaped 10 of them, while 2 were dead floating in the middle of space.
She prepared to run.
“Looking for a Twi'lek, rather short and pudgy. Wanted for escaping a detention facility. Last seen hanging around this area. Have you seen them?”
Delilah blew out a breath. Thank the Maker . He wasn’t coming for her, or if he was, he didn’t know that it was her under the cloak.
“Yes,” she said, which seemed to surprise him. “Noticed someone who matched that description in Slippery Slopes.” She gave him the name of a popular cantina that was deep in the city. It would take at least fifteen minutes to walk there and by then… she would be gone.
“Slopes, you say?” he asked, his voice tinged with fake amusem*nt.
She nodded and turned her back, reaching down to grab her wrench, hoping to seem nonchalant.
She waited patiently for his response.
“I’ll be on my way, then.”
A bead of sweat slipped down her back. Thank f*ck.
He stepped into the shadows and she allowed herself to catch her breath.
But, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. She needed to get her sh*t and get out of here.
Making sure all the parts were secure she began to pick up the rest of her tools and hauled them inside her ship.
Checking the port one last time for the daunting bounty hunter she closed the hatch of her ship.
Feeling relieved, she wiped her sweaty hands onto her cloak and headed for the co*ckpit.
“Leaving so soon?” a dark voice spoke and a hand closed around her throat. She was pushed up against the wall and the breath was knocked from her lungs.
— Din —
"Leaving so soon?" Mando's voice cut through the silence, his tone neutral yet carrying an edge of suppressed intensity. It had been easy slipping into her ship, and now they were alone inside its confines.
It was easy slipping into her ship. And now they were all alone inside her ship.
His hand closed around her neck, and with his other hand, he yanked away the fabric covering her pretty face.
Ah, there she was.
Freckles dotted her nose and her brilliant blue eyes seemed to twinkle as he gazed at her.
What he wouldn’t do to get those beautiful eyes to roll back into her head as he—
She stomped on his foot.
Cute.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he stated firmly, his voice muffled by the helmet that concealed the expression of utter glee on his face.
Oh, he hoped she’d want it the hard way.
"I don't intend to make it easy for you," she declared, her voice edged with determination.
Her defiance only fueled Mando's desire for the chase. She was like a thrilling, elusive prey, and he couldn't resist the challenge.
He smirked beneath his mask, tightening his grip on her neck just enough to make her eyes water. “Now, give me your hands.” He reached for his cuffs.
She lifted her knee to jab at his groin, but he twisted his body to the side. He wasn't expecting her arm to uppercut his, forcing him to release his grip.
She was stronger than he thought.
Her leg came up to kick his chest, and he stumbled back, crashing against the side of her ship. Metal clanged as her wrench hurtled towards him, glancing off his armor.
He raised his blaster and pointed it at her, his expression a mixture of annoyance and amusem*nt. "This doesn't have to be difficult," he said, his voice echoing from beneath the helmet. "It's much simpler if you just cooperate."
The room, dimly lit and filled with an eerie silence, suddenly came alive with a vibrant glow.
Mando’s eyes widened as he noticed the weapon she had drawn from her hip.
Maker.
A faint hum emanated from the weapon, filling the space with a captivating yet unsettling sound. Its glow reflected off the Mandalorian's beskar armor, casting shifting shadows across the room.
Red shadows.
The woman lifted her red lightsaber and smiled a wicked grin.
She lunged.
