A Match for the Mandalore

Canderous



While Jennet took a nap, I tuned in to her so I could keep watch without having to be in the room, and slipped out and went down to Atton’s. I pressed the comm on the door, but no answer. I remembered then that he was one of the ones that were going to head to the refugee section with Ladria. I decided it was best; if he laughed at me about what I was doing, I’d probably kill him. Not good for crew morale, and Jennet wouldn’t approve.



Bao Dur had gone with them, and Mira. That left Visas and Disciple. I was sure I couldn’t stand to ask Disciple or spend more than ten minutes in his company without a buffer. Not that I hated him, I just have no frame of reference at all to talk with him, and he’s so naïve it sets my teeth on edge. Plus, I doubted he’d have a clue about what I was after.



Visas, now…she was a wise woman, and I’d seen that she seemed protective of Jennet, which I approved of. We have little in common, but she didn’t treat me like a barbarian, which is how Disciple tended to. He got on my nerves with his condensation when I ask him to explain some esoteric point he was given to spouting on about. I’d stopped asking the second time he eyed me like an animal let loose from its cage, and had taken to avoiding being around him when possible. Jennet seemed to like him all right, but I had heard some stray thoughts of hers and knew she was almost as much at a loss with him as I was, but found his antics amusing and endearing rather than irritating.



Visas was female, and would likely know what sorts of things other females like. I would actually rather ask Mira; she speaks my language. The only reason I had been willing to swallow my pride and talk to Atton is because I knew he was very good with women, and could give me some direction without getting sweet about it, like a woman would. That he would probably never let me forget it I was willing to put up with; I was reasonably certain he wouldn’t let on to anyone about it. He can be a fool, and loves to tease people, but I’ve noticed he’s never deliberately cruel, and can keep things to himself.



But Atton wasn’t here, and I thought Visas likely was. So I went over to her room, commed the door, and soon she was letting me in, bowing graciously with a genuine smile on her face. I had gotten used to the veil and her blindness; I hardly noticed it now, and I knew she could see clearer than most people that had the use of their eyes.



“What can I help you with?” she asked in her low voice. It always makes me uneasy how jetti can sense intent and emotions. But she made it seem I was doing her a favor by asking, so I shrugged the feeling off.



“I want to pick out something special for Jennet, and I don’t know where to start,” I said as straightforwardly as possible. I was internally writhing; I hated asking for favors, and hated worse to appear to anyone to be soft. But Jennet was worth a little discomfort. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t found Atton.



Visas didn’t smile; she seemed to know that would make things worse for me. She simply said gravely, “That’s a thoughtful and lovely thing to do. How can I help?”



“Well,” I said awkwardly, “She has armor and weapons now, and I know those are things that she values highly. She was very happy when I gave them to her. But I want to find something less…practical.”



I had already planned on finding her a wedding ring, when I got around to asking her formally to marry me. I planned on doing that once the mission was over, and our future less in question. That she might not say yes never crossed my mind. Once I acknowledged she was my mate, to my mind we already were married; the rest was just formalities. Under my customs, however, we wouldn’t be able to legally wed until we’d passed our tests, and would have to in any case have the ceremony with my people as witness. Mandalorians don’t wear rings, but Telans and Ondorians do, and I thought she’d like that. I might even consent to wear one myself, if it seemed important to her. I didn’t think I would have any trouble picking a ring out. But I wanted something else, something to show her how important she was, and special. I had never before had that sort of impulse; with Gerda I’d simply pick out a nice thing from war booty and give it to her when I got home. She always was appreciative and was as practical as me about frivolities. I knew Jennet wasn’t the sort to actively seek out trinkets, but she did seem like she’d appreciate the occasional keepsake.



“I see,” Visas said thoughtfully. “The best way to approach something like this is to understand what is important to Jennet.” She cocked her head at me, inviting me to comment.



I swallowed mentally the comment that came to mind – did she think I was a total idiot? But I had asked for help; and perhaps in this sort of thing I was. So I gave her comment serious thought, and ran through Jennet’s priorities. She valued honor, and honesty, and courage. None of these seemed to help. She liked a well-made weapon, or armor, combat, and learning. Not just battle tactics, either – she soaked up knowledge of all sorts, I’d noticed. She also highly valued friendship and loyalty. She had mentioned she was fond of good whiskey.



“All I can think of are things that anyone could get for her,” I said grumpily.



Visas smiled. It was warm, and not a bit condescending. “You’re thinking of things. What does Jennet treasure the most?”



I just looked at her, not following.



“You, I think.” Visas said quietly.



“True.” I said, without conceit. It was fact, just as what I treasured most was her. “But that doesn’t help.”



“I think it will, if you go down to the shop with that in mind. I’m certain you’ll find something that meets your requirements there. Would you like me to go with you?” Her offer was sincere, and I almost took her up on it, had been planning to ask, in fact. But I thought about it, and decided I needed to do this by myself.



“Thanks, but no. I think I can handle it now. I appreciate your input,” I said as sincerely as I could. I didn’t want to offend her by showing her my frustration.



With a graceful nod and a smile, she showed me out.



Well, that was a big help, I thought irritably. Well, I hadn’t wanted her to simply pick something out, just point me in the right direction. Maybe I should stick to weapons, I knew those. I sighed, annoyed, and went down to the lobby and the shop off it.



When I entered the store, it was crammed full of knickknacks and baubles, electronic greeting cards, art holos, and other miscellanea I couldn’t identify. I felt as uncomfortable as a Bantha in a market square. I spotted a case full of jewelry and decided to start there. Jennet didn’t wear any that I had seen, but her ears were pierced and I assumed she did from time to time, when it was available. I looked over the selection and something caught my eye. I pointed it out to the hovering sales clerk, and she placed it on a strip of black velvet, saying it was a fine piece they had only gotten in a few days ago, as part of an estate consignment.



It was a necklace with an oval pendant about the size of a credit disk. The chain was sturdy, not easily yanked off or prone to get snagged on armor, but not clunky. Inlaid on the oval was a flat polished crystal that glowed like opal fire in greens and purples and blues, with threads of orange, red, and gold running through it. It reminded me of her; beautiful and unusual, with a hint of fire. At my look of interest, the eager clerk showed me the catch on the side, and that it was a small container where one could store a holo or a lock of hair or a tiny treasure. She referred to the pendant as a locket. She pointed out a machine in the corner of the store that could produce a holo in any size needed. I looked closer at the inside of the locket. There was engraving on the left half, like a crest: two curving crossed swords, not unlike the Twi’lik spinning swords I’d given her, surmounted by the stylized snarling face of some sort of cat wearing a crown. It was perfect. The clerk urged me to go get my holo taken and offered to mount it in the pendant free of charge. I hate getting my image taken, but I thought about what Visas had said, and did it. I hoped I wasn’t glowering, but thought even if I was, she probably would like it anyway.



The clerk inserted the holo, wrapped up the necklace in a tiny box, and I stowed it in my pocket after paying an insane amount. I didn’t mind, but I couldn’t comprehend why it cost so much. If she liked it though, it would be worth every credit.



I left the shop to make my way back to the lift that would take me to my floor. Ladria, Atton, Mira and Bao Dur were entering the lobby as I passed the reception desk. They waved, and made ‘wait a minute’ motions at me. They caught up to me, and we all trooped to the lift.



“How’s Jennet?” Ladria asked.



“Sleeping. She ate like a Bantha at lunch, but got tired after.”



Ladria nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me. Her system sustained a terrible shock. When you’re that drained, it takes a good day or two to recover, if you have healing or kolto on hand. Much longer, weeks, if not. If you survive the initial injury. She’s bounced back a lot faster than most would.” She patted my arm. “She’s tough, she’ll be fine.”



“Yeah, she is. Thanks.” I felt a slight stirring and said without thinking, “She’s waking up.”



“Better get back buddy or she’ll get cranky,” Atton smirked.



I gave him the smile that usually makes people back away quickly. “I’ll do that.”



Atton just grinned at me. I gave my usual glower back but gave him points for not backing down.



“How was the refugee camp?” I asked.



I didn’t particularly care, but I was practicing being more sociable. I did feel for the people that the Exchange and Hutts had abused so badly, but my culture isn’t one for pity. If you’re not strong enough to survive, you die, or are enslaved or oppressed. A Mandalorian who is unlucky or stupid enough to be taken by a slaver will generally kill themselves, if possible in a way that takes out as many of the enemy as they can, if escape is impossible. We don’t consider that giving up, and we will try escape first. But to live as a slave is the worst possible fate to us; death is preferable. We do, or did before we were decimated, keep slaves. Some call that hypocritical, we tend to call it practical. I was odd in that respect though, I didn’t care to keep a slave, and neither did Gerda.



To be totally honest, it wasn’t so much that I was kinder than most of my race, it was mostly because I didn’t trust anyone that was in a situation not of their choosing. Slaves worked for you out of fear or oppression, and I wouldn’t trust one to have me or my family’s interests in mind. So I’d take a slave as part of my bounty, if I had to, and either free him with the offer of working for me for a time, or he could work off his price some other way. I never took a woman or child slave; the thought of it made me crazy. My attitude was one of my more eccentric things that amused my men. One of the first things I did as Mandalore was outlaw slavery. There was some fuss about it that settled down when I explained my reasoning. I didn’t care what anyone thought, but I am no dictator, and my people are not easily led. Most came around to my way of thinking.



Mira spoke up. “It was great! They were thrilled about the credits, but the best part is with both the Hutts and Exchange out of action, they can move out of that stinkhole. Rather than distributing the credits among everyone, they decided to use it as a stake to set up a community. Everyone is pitching in that can. They have some real talented people in that group, and they’re going to go into trade. When we left, they were starting a meeting about where they were going to set up shop.”



“That’s great,” I said, and meant it. I liked it when people worked together.



The lift finally opened, and everyone scattered to their rooms. I let myself in, feeling Jennet awake and looking for me. Her face lit up when I entered the room, then she scowled and asked sharply, “Where have you been?”



“Miss me?” I asked. She was getting cranky, as Atton predicted. I took it as a good sign; she must be better. I hate to be cooped up for long myself, and recovering from injury is the worst.



“I just woke up, I haven’t had time.” She sounded irritated. Without comment, I ordered up some coffee from the food station. Doctoring it for her, I took it over and put it in her hand. I’d noticed she’s grumpy when she first wakes up. Coffee helps.



She looked at the mug in her hand, then at me, and capitulated. “Thank you,” she said, sounding warmer. She stood on tiptoe and kissed my cheek.



I pulled her closer, and kissed her better. She melted into me and I took back the coffee before she dropped it. She was definitely feeling better. As the kiss got more involved, I slowly walked us over to a table and set down the mug, then gave her my full attention.

Before things escalated to panting need, I pulled back and asked, “You sure you’re okay for this?”



She smiled wickedly. “Well, it’s either sex or a night of Pazzak or holovids. You choose,” she purred, deliberately striking a seductive pose.



She had taken her pants off when she went down for her nap and was in a shirt and a pair of tiny bright pink and green panties. I groaned. I couldn’t resist her. I hoped I could keep it slow enough not to cause her to relapse. I reached for her, and was gone. Her skin was warm and tasted like sweet cream. She was tugging at my shirt, and I shrugged out of it. When I pulled her back into my arms, she had already removed her own top and feel of her breasts on my bare chest nearly drove me crazy.



Let’s take a shower. She was seductive and throaty in my head. Hot water. Soap. Lots of it, all over me. You, washing my back. And my front.



She took my hand, and led me to the ‘fresher. She made a little show of stripping off the ridiculous scrap of cloth she was wearing, and I was out of the rest of my clothes in record time. We turned all six of the shower heads on, and met in the middle of the spray, water massaging us from all directions. I was not a man for excess, but this sort of luxury I could get behind. Smiling with a catlike expression, Jennet soaped up her hands and proceeded to clean every inch of me with slow, erotic sweeps. She didn’t miss anything, even insisting I raise each foot and scrub between every toe. She sat me down on the bench and washed my hair, digging her fingers into my scalp and making me groan. Her small, strong hands kneaded my shoulders and neck until her attentions and the hot water relaxed away the worry and fear of the last two days. She deliberately rubbed her breasts against my back as she did it, keeping the sexual tension high.



Your turn, I informed her. I have never been so relaxed yet turned on in my life.



I took the soap from her and lathered up my hands. I ran them slowly down her torso. Her back was to me now, and she leaned against my chest. I could tell her eyes were closed, and she wiggled her hips against my crotch. I was already hard, this made me groan. Wanting to wait though, I continued soaping her front, cupping her breasts, rubbing her belly, skimming a hand across her moist center. She moaned at that, and I grinned. Her head raised and she sought my mouth. I bent and took her mouth with my own, kissing her until we were both panting. I reached down and slipped a finger between her legs, working it inside her and she gasped and wriggled and moved against my hand. I sucked on her tongue and she moaned into my mouth.



I put the soap aside and the water soon rinsed us clean. She had been rocking against me for some time, moving against my hand. I had slipped a second finger in her and she was so hot and tight I almost came without ever having entered her. She turned in my arms, and my fingers slipped free. She reached up and I bent to meet her halfway, cupping her ass in both hands. Her kiss was hot and starting to get wild. She rubbed her belly against my cock and I groaned. I could feel her smile as she deliberately teased me with hands and skin and, suddenly, mouth. She had dropped to her knees and her mouth was making me crazy. With tongue and lips and teeth and hands she was driving me to frenzy. My hands were in her hair, gripping her head and my hips were bucking. She made a humming sound in her throat and the vibration intensified the sensation. I could feel her in my head, urging me on and using some of the finest dirty talk I had ever had the pleasure to hear. I came hard, and she sucked me dry. By sheer force of will I didn’t let my knees buckle.



I turned off the water, scooped her up, and grabbed a couple of towels as we got out of the shower. I dried her off, and she dried me. Then she grabbed a towel and briskly rubbed her hair, shaking it free of excess water. I did the same, picked her up again and carried her to the bed.



I lay her down against the pillows and just looked at her, warm and glowing. Her skin was ivory dipped in cream. I bent and took a nipple into my mouth, sucking it strongly and making her moan. I traced my tongue down her torso, using my teeth to nibble here and there. She squirmed, and her hands buried themselves in my hair. I continued this down one side, down her leg, then sucked on her toes. She squealed faintly. I repeated this up the other side, then sucked on the other nipple until it was a hard nub. I scraped my stubble against her skin and she quivered. When I finally set my mouth between her legs, she was whimpering and begging me to fuck her now. I ignored the request and set about tasting her to my satisfaction. If her skin was wild honey and spice, she was musk and whiskey and woman here. I ate and drank my fill with her hands in my hair and her moans in my ears and head. She came twice, bucking her hips and moaning my name.



I was harder than I had been in my life. I crawled up her body, and she yanked me to her mouth. I could feel her delight in tasting herself on my tongue. She was so wet that I entered her easily, sliding home with a groan of exaltation. I started slow, gradually increasing tempo, but keeping a pace that wouldn’t tire her too much. I felt her orgasm ripple through her body, and I came right after, calling her name like a benediction.



We eventually crawled under the blankets and I gathered her close. She had her head on my chest and an arm flung over my middle, and her breath was warm against my skin. A thought floated through my head, So that’s what it’s like to be gentle. I never knew I could be.



I probably wouldn’t have let her hear that if I hadn’t been so close to sleep. But she did, and a thought came back.



I did.



It was a peculiar feeling, gentleness. I thought I could get used to it.



Not all the time, please, her sleepy thought drifted through my mind, and I smiled as we slid into sleep.