THE RAMBLE

Fil eyed the man beside him curiously. He had heard about Mandalorians and their fighting skills before. When he was just a child, he was told stories of the old times, long before the empire rose to power, when Mandalore was the home of the galaxy's most gruesome warriors who even the emperor feared so much, he initiated to purge the whole planet. But this one didn't seem to be as savage, not as rough and unapologetic.
Fil couldn't imagine he was one of those the stories were about, the kind of man whose bare exitance made grown warriors of other species gasp in horror . There was something about the man telling him he nor the child had to fear his rage ever. Something safe and wholesome, like a thick knitted blanket or a cozy fire.

The child must have felt the same thing as it had stayed completely content as the Mandalorian had taken it from Fil's arms to place it back in his hovering crib for the transport. "What's your name?" he had asked the younger man as he did so. "Fil-An Atemas.", Fil had answered, eyeing every move the warrior did with skepticism. "You both are coming with me, Fil.", the Mandalorian had stated as if it was the most natural thing in the galaxy and then programmed the crib to follow the signal of his electronic wristband out of the fortress.
So the three of them then began their journey through the desert, as no single speeder hat survived the attack.  Fil felt every bone in him as he had no choice but to trust and follow the Mandalorian for now. He had nicknamed the bounty hunter Buckethead in his head, and he was pleased with how well the name fitted the man in armor. The crib floated closely behind them; Fil once in a while glanced back at it to make sure his new friend was alright.
The child was probably the only one of them actually enjoying the trip as his giant ears flapped in the soft breeze, his little mouth ever smiling in pure bliss .

As they entered one of the countless canyons of the planet, shortcut to the Mandalorian's ship, a chilling sensation went down the young man's spine, and he stopped in his tracks, looking around in alarm. "Something isn't right.", he told the Mandalorian his gut feeling, who nodded, already scanning the surroundings. A Trandoshan bounty hunter launched itself at the warrior in a blink of an eye, chopping wildly around with its axe attempting to make as much damage as possible. The Mandalorian took a few minor hits to his body but managed to overpower the bounty hunter regardless; what was the clue for two more to attack.
Trandoshans were an incredibly greedy species who always hunted in packs, not particularly precise fighters but deadly enough to be a severe threat to the group. Fil tried to shield the child as well as possible, drawing the attacker's attention to himself by flickering the blade of his sword in front of their faces and throwing a few punches with it. They didn't have to know that the weapon refused to stay stable enough to fight properly and that his punches were nothing but ridiculous compared to its actual potential.
Again, the young man was painfully reminded that he had to try to repair it soon to be able to protect himself in the long shot. Until then, he flickered and dodged, kicked, and punched, proceeding fighting back with his bare hands to keep the Trandoshans off.  An axe closely missed Fil's right ear, making him jump to the side immediately, leaving the Child in the open, which was what the second  Trandoshan had been waiting for. He raised his weapon, ready to hammer it down on the little one with the brutal. Fil made himself ready to jump onto the enemy's back to hold the axe back, but a single shot caused the bounty hunter to disintegrate on the spot, dropping a red flashing device in the act. Fil looked back at the Mandalorian in shock, who met his gaze briefly, shouldering his heavy  Amban sniper rifle with ease, radiating the power of a killer.

The young man blinked, astounded and in awe of the armored man and the first actual demonstration of his abilities, before getting himself together to bent down to pick up the device. "Tracking fob.", the Mandalorian pointed out its use. "I got one too" "For what?" Fil asked. "The bounty.", the Mandalorian dryly responded, nodding at the child that was peaking out of his crib with curious eyes.  Fil raised an eyebrow in disbelief while holding the device closer to the small green creator, smiling up at him as if nothing happened. The flashing became faster.
"That's bad.", Fil mumbled, then threw it to the floor to smash it with his heavy boot to prevent anyone from using it to track them further. Not that it was much use with the other dozens circling around the bounty hunter creed. "There are more of them.", the other man agreed, having watched the younger man and guessed his thoughts. "Let's get going." And with that, the Mandalorian continued to walk, now a slight limp in his steps. 

Fil considered asking about the other man's wounds he could get glimpses of through the rips of the dark fabric covering every part of the Mandalorian's body that wasn't clad in beskar. Crimson blood continued to leak to the cuts, soaking the fabric and leaving a track of droplets in the sand behind. Still, from the way the man ignored the pain, it was easy to tell it was better to leave him alone. So Fil just followed behind, occupied with the throbbing of his own body and the exhaustion slowly overcoming his mind.
The past days' events were slowly claiming their tribute with the man only being away miles from collapsing. From time to time, there was a soft giggle escaping from the crib beside him that made him feel slightly better, and at some point, The giggling was replaced with snoring as the child had fallen asleep. Fil smiled down at it, taking in how adorable the big ears flapped while tossing around underneath its little blanket. Again the need to protect the child filled his guts, and he was more determined than ever to leave this planet behind. As the sun went down behind the rocks and dunes of Arvala 7's scenery, the Mandalorian decided it was time to rest. He was quick to build a campfire from tumbling weed and Twiggs, declining any help from the other man in the progress, so Fil was left to observe.
The warrior lighted the fire with practiced hands, its warmth immediately making a wave of relief wash over Fil. He curled up into a ball around the crib, ready to defend it at all cost, and through heavy eyelids, he watched the Mandalorian tending to a wound on his arm. He was wincing and grunting as the metal cauter burned his flesh to stop the bleeding, his stubbornness helping him to bite through the pain.
Fil eyed him, wondering how the grim warrior might look underneath his shiny armor. He was sure the man was older than him, maybe in his early to mid-thirties. Perhaps he got steel blue eyes that pierced right through someone's soul, emphasized the glare he was able to give even through the helmet. Or maybe he was a completely different species with green skin and tentacles for hair. "Do you ever take the beskar off?" Fil heard himself ask groggily. The Mandalorian stopped what he was doing and looked at him.
"Only when I'm alone.", he stated after a brief moment of consideration. Then he turned his attention back to his side, where the child had sneaked up on him and was outstretching a tiny hand for the injury as if it wanted to help with it. Somehow it had slithered out of Fil's care, and he scolded himself for it while sitting up. The Mandalorian sighed, then rose to his feet, picking up the tiny one with great care. Without a word, he carried it over and placed it in the crib. Then he returned to his seating spot and continued cauterizing.

Fil curled himself tighter around the orb, securing it safely in its place. Again the sound of the Mandalorian's suppressed pain echoed through the night, and Fil struggled, even more, challenging to keep his eyes open, the silhouette of the armored man getting more and more blurred.

The Mandalorian was interrupted by a faint sound of awe and found the child looking up at him again. He eyed it for a moment before he stood up once again with another heavy sigh leaving his lips, taking the child back in his arms to return it where it belonged. His gaze wandered to the boy who was supposed to take care of it, only to find him sound asleep, an arm around the crib, the other one under his head as a pillow. He looked intriguingly peaceful with slightly ajar blush pink lips and thick eyelashes throwing shadows on the well-carved but slightly chubby cheekbones. The warrior wondered how such innocence had found its way onto such a gruesome planet. Neither the child nor the boy belonged in a life like this. Thinking about how the two of them would go where he would bring them, a final sigh left the man's lips as he stood there, a child in his arms looking down at the boy. Then he placed the little one back into his crib again, this time tugging it in firmly.