CHAPTER 41

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THE UNBALANCED TIDE!

*:･ﾟ✧

"I don't understand. . ."

Gaia's heart is slamming against her spine, chest constricting as if the airflow were cut off from the rest of her body. It's not, but the way her muscles surge with adrenaline and the way her blood pumps through her veins with awe and renewed strength, has her twisted into a lightheaded blue alien whose words are nothing but faint. They were here? Here? Gaia's thoughts and mind cramps with perplexity. After the fall of the Empire, she never knew — but hoped — that there might be others who escaped besides herself: she never thought to look, but hoped. And here is the proof of her praying, her skewered wish.

"I'm glad you sought me out so I could share the news with you," Kuiil softens as he attempts to handle her reaction. "The revelation is taxing, but please listen to me."

Gaia's unblinking eyes are lowered from the sky above, seeking the ugnaught when she reminds herself to consistently breathe and focus. "I am," she assures. "Please go on."

Kuiil nods at that. "A small party of Crenatas passed through here a few months ago. They sought shelter from me and were happy to oblige when I let them know that I had crossed paths with one of their own before." Kuiil implements a brief pause, permitting Gaia a narrow moment to fully process his words. "They shared with me details of where they were headed next after we had established trust with one another, presumably to a planet known as Qivah. Reports had spread that a covert of Crenatas had settled down there and were seeking to congregate so that they may be whole again."

Jittery heart bouncing around, Gaia has a tough time adjusting to the information. "Qivah, was it? I don't recognize the name."

"Neither do I," Kuiil admits bluntly, "but they were rather adamant about it. It must be a remote system; away from the bulk of New Republic patrols as well as the public eye."

"A place to lay low until it's time to relocate," Gaia catches on, mumbling mostly to herself.

"What will you do?" Kuiil questions, sincere.

"I don't know yet," Gaia muses, feeling as though her emotions could strangle her at any given minute, "but just knowing that my people have persisted through such hardship is enough for me to go on again. It gives me hope. Something I have had a need for these many years." Steadily kneeling, a watered smile latches onto her expression as she looks at Kuiil. She dives forth, suddenly but gently, hugging him when her eyes begin to sting. "Thank you so much, Kuiil. Zaw. . ."
*Thank you. . .*

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The group responded differently, as one would expect, to the news of Farren. IG-11 had no opinion about it; Kuiil thought it best to let time decide; Cara meant to kill the agent; Thero to let the others handle it; and Gaia and Mando have yet to decide for themselves. As of now, Farren is still very much alive albeit unknowing of the others, although she may be in more danger than she was before. The one thing that the group could agree on, though, was to let the agent reside in her cell and not be let out under any circumstances. So far, it's holding just fine.

Everybody is on edge, however.

Especially on the way to Nevarro.

The Child had acted on what he saw: an arm-wrestle between Mando and Cara, but to him it might as well have been Cara somehow attacking Mando. Regardless, they all came to know of The Child's mysterious powers one choking attempt later on the nomad, and Kuiil shared that he had heard rumors about such a thing although not exactly of what. A conflict occurred between Cara and Kuiil then, regarding the ugnaught's forced servitude to the Empire. Mando resolved it, kindly requesting Kuiil if it was viable for him to fix the kid a new pod, to which he verified.

Thero stayed out of it with IG-11. Mando had described how the medic had been caught up with resting, talking with Kuiil, and studying the blurrgs which were brought with them aboard the Razor Crest. A respectable choice.

"So, we're going to Nevarro?" Cara asks, seated in the cockpit alongside Mando.

"Have you ever been?"

"No." Cara is partially occupied with cleaning her weapons, while also knowing of the communications system being switched on and that Gaia is listening in. "We lost a lot of our forces there. The city's dug in pretty deep. No cover when you drop in. . . It stayed in Empire control 'till the end of the war."

Mando rearranges himself. "The warlord we're taking out was an Imperial officer."

"What station?"

The comms gradually whizz by Cara's inquiries, a short line of static overwhelming the room until a modulated voice trickles through. "We have no idea. We've tried interrogating Farren on several occasions, but she refuses to let any sort of information slip away or out. It's hard to tell, currently."

"No insignia anymore," Mando adds in thereafter, carrying the issue along. "I took out the safehouse when I snatched the kid. More Imps have been reinforced since."

Cara places her weapon aside, tilting her head. "There's something more going on."

"I would have to agree with Cara," Gaia says with genuine approval. "We're not seeing everything that's at play here, but hopefully we'll be prepared for whatever is to come."

The compressed air of the cockpit's door resounds, and IG-11 steps inside — polite and diligent. "I have prepared a second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?"

Mando swivels around in his chair. He ganders distantly at the droid for a moment, eventually turning back around while mumbling, "I'm not hungry." IG-11 has no qualms with the frosted tone of the Razor Crest's pilot, and he takes a step back so that the door may close. "Under no circumstances does that thing leave the ship," Mando rules.

"Mando. . ."

Cara releases a stunned breath toward him. "You got a real thing for droids, don't you?"

"I got a real thing for that droid," Mando retaliates, not wanting Cara or the others to come even close to the slightest hint of his past — but even so, there's now one who's always aware of it, and it just so happens to be Gaia. On her end, she can hear the chatter come and go meanwhile, feeling concerned for Mando but also equally as honored that he trusts her of all people enough to reveal his personal loss to her, and that it was far from being a problem. It meant a whole lot to her.

"The ugnaught said he rewired it," Cara reassures, trying to calm the situation.

"That droid was designed to kill things," Mando pushes back, "I don't care how much wiring he replaced: it goes against its nature."

"Well, it shouldn't be a long job anyway." Cara examines the rifle in her possession, grappling a cloth in the other, "We take out the head Imp, the rest will run like rats." And with that statement — a mischievous grin skating on her dangerous lips, and her curly hair stroking her armor-clad shoulders, Cara has departed from the dense cockpit at last.

"Is she gone?"

"Yes," Mando affirms, alone yet not without Gaia's voice there to soothe him, remaining wrapped around his skin like ribbons of silk.

"You're glaring in a straight line, aren't you?" Gaia asks, causing Mando to still with her question, "your body facing toward the window, hands fiddling with the controls?"

"Yes?" Mando is somewhat tentative to answer, and the precision of her description is nearly astounding to him, freaking him slightly out. His hands are discreetly removed from the board in order to change his stance up, his fingers now clenched. "How. . . ?"

"I'm only able to interpret things by the sound of your voice right now, so knowing how you position yourself casts a different light onto the situation," Gaia muses, the tingle of a smile in her riveting voice. "I've been with you long enough to know when you're agitated and pondering. And right now, you're vexed out of your damn mind."

"Your point being?" Referring to her rendition of his posture, Mando unwinds his tense shoulders and slumps back in his chair.

"To get you to think about something else," Gaia says in a teasing manner. "Did it work, Hush? Or should I turn the charm up a bit?"

Mando feels as though he's been shot with a tranquilizer, dazed. To think that not only was her report of his bearings correct, but also that of her attempt to ease him with the ongoing situation. He knew that they'd been together in close quarters for a long time now, although he could've never guessed just how observant she's been with him, or how comfortable they've gotten around each other; to a point where the other person's habits and patterns aren't all that peculiar.

"Djarin?" Gaia calls out, sounding a bit overwrought, "sorry if that was too much. Would you like to be alone right now?"

"No," Mando is quick to say, hurriedly withdrawing. "No, I'm fine." A weak sigh — almost implicating future embarrassment of his tried endeavour, resonates through the speakers and a vague tinge of pink flushes over his cheeks. "Are your arms crossed?"

Gaia stops up in her tracks. "No. . .they're actually on my hips. And I'm standing," she confesses slowly, furthering her clarification by narrating, "I'm walking back and forth."

"You only pace about when you're stressed." Mando looks around then, uselessly trying to locate Gaia until he's reminded of the fact that she's on an entirely different ship, which is tracing the route towards Nevarro from behind the Razor Crest. A delay ensues with Gaia's reply, and it makes him fidget a little.

"Yeah, I just. . .I have a lot to think about," she reveals faintly. "I'll tell you more about it when we're done with this whole operation. We don't need anything complicated steering our attention away from the mission, right?"

"Right," Mando agrees hesitantly, although he cannot help but reflect on what Gaia had just told him and the underlying tone of her words. It must be something of great importance, seeing as it has made her leave her seat and herself to sound uncertain. Trying his luck with this one is not worth it, nor will it help any of them if it becomes distracting. There's only one thing he can do, and that is to wait until the moment comes when she will share her thoughts with him.

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"May Stagia, my Eternal Guardian, act as my honoured Ward," Gaia recites in a whisper, delicately. With both hands splayed under Dawnbringer — looking as though she's about to offer it up to the heavens from down on the cold floor, its steel of Argent seems to vibrate with her words and shudder menacingly like the ramp of the ship. "May She be my witness and my hand. May She bless my perils and forgive my wrongs. May She grant us all clarity. . . May Stagia protect and guide me."

Eyes fluttering open, Gaia removes herself from the chilled rear of Farren's starship. The woman in mention is remaining quiet in her cell since last time Gaia checked up on her, seemingly unbothered by everyone and everything. She's too calm for Gaia's liking though, yet there's nothing she can do about her immediate silence. Regardless, the world calls for her. The blue alien has ventured outside by now with her sword strapped safely across her back, cloak jacket discarded and her textile outfit sailed by a stale breeze.

Nevarro hasn't changed, but why would it?

IG-11 is hidden away for now, while The Child is sheltered from behind the line of blurrgs in his new pod, the lid closed entirely off as it continuously hovers above the ground. Mando, Cara, Kuiil, and Thero have already taken the liberty of approaching Greef Karga first while mounted on a blurrg each, with Cara and Thero sharing the third. It's intimidating more than anything, although the Guild agent has his own backup in the form of three bounty hunters, prepped behind him and with a guarded glint in their eyes.

Gaia is the last, and her scars are burning.

"Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando," Greef opens up toward them, "but things have gotten complicated since you were last here." The Guild agent trails forward with his own party, assessing them as tension inhibits Gaia's chest and throat like an anchor. "It appears that introductions are in order. It seems we've both provided a security detail," Greef points out dryly while eyeing Kuiil, Cara, and Thero. He gestures to the bounty hunters flanking him and then towards Gaia and the others, resting his attention on Cara. "I recommend the shock trooper guards the ship, with. . .whoever it is that's behind her. These lava fields are lousy with Jawas."

Ignoring Greef's statement, Thero tilts to the side so he can be properly seen. "Pardon me, but my name is Thero and I hail from Sor—"

"She's not going anywhere," Gaia asserts while brushing Greef's cloudy threats away, and halting Thero's mindless introduction. "They're coming with us. Every single one."

Mando rears his helmet slightly in her direction, smiling briefly in agreement with her resolution for this mission of theirs. So much so, it's fairly hard for him to look back at Greef. The Guild agent's enlightenment forces him to withdraw his gaze, however.

"But the town is now run by ex-Empire." Gaia's hands bend into themselves at Greef's words, yet there's a sliver of wisdom strung in his voice regardless, "if a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up."

This time, and to Gaia's delight, it's Mando who objects openly back. "She's coming."

"Fine," Greef spits out, his lips twisting with dejection until he coerces himself to repeat it more softly, "fine. . . At least cover your tattoo. No need to flaunt it." He sweeps his arms out in an open motion then, voice booming. "Now, where is the little one?"

Gaia draws a strained breath in at once as Mando taps carefully on his coded vambrace. The pod carrying The Child floats gently away from the group as instructed and towards Greef in order to confirm the authenticity of their bargain, with Gaia following close by as its guard. Her head is empty and blank as she does so, mouth curled threateningly up at Greef when the lid opens to reveal the small, green creature within it. The Child merely looks around, innocently unaware of it all.

Gaia shifts suddenly due to being overly uncomfortable, hands on her hips, as Greef makes the move to actually hold The Child. "Move the wrong way even slightly and I cut you down where you stand," she mumbles.

"Don't make me laugh," Greef retorts without caution, "we're bound by a deal of raw business. And those, I don't take lightly."

"I hope so." Gaia's scowl never weakens.

"So," Greef resumes while lifting The Child out of his pod, "this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about? What a precious little creature. . . I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head." Leniently, he returns The Child to his pod afterwards, unharmed. "Well," Greef drawls in finality, somewhat content, "I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all."

Quick as a hawk, Mando has the pod shut off to Greef and the others again, and retreated back to his side. Gaia acts in accordance as well during their unpleasant standoff's last moments, listening to Greef advise them, "The sun drops fast on Nevarro. . . We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light."

No-one moves at first, even when they all know that the conversation is concluded and that it's now time to make their way across the rumbling lava fields. The town is far away, not even so much as a speck of it protruding on the horizon. Perceiving this, Gaia weaves her way past Kuiil and stops up next to Mando's blurrg. Without inquiring, the Mandalorian offers his hand down at her, reaching further when Gaia accepts it and is hauled up onto the back of the reptilian beast. She snakes her arms securely around Mando's sturdy torso thereafter, sluggishly resting her chin on his shoulder for a while.

It doesn't transpire immediately, but after a second or two of flustered reluctance, the feeling of his gloved palm momentarily caressing her intertwined hands has a tender smile catch on her lips. Yet, ill thoughts and anxiousness continue to gnaw on her mind:

The day may be gone and faded in just a few hours time or so, although the long journey that is ahead of them has only just begun.

— Author's Note —

Yikes!🧍🏻‍♀️I know I haven't updated in a very long time and I'm truly sorry for that. I was previously so focused on writing this story that I gave myself complete burnout from writing + I became self-conscious about everything I wrote, and not to mention my mental health taking a huge dip all of sudden. Regardless, I finally managed to finish this chapter, and hopefully I'll be able to complete this fic soon; as was intended.

On a last note, thank you to those who have stuck around, as well as to the support from people wanting to read what I write — it means a great deal to me! 🧚‍♀️💕

Onwards to the next chapter!