“Ugh, the Mandalorians are here.”
Elhy Solari looked up from her data terminal to watch Doctor Kindsay slide into the room, palm the door shut and slip behind a storage cabinet. The room in the medical center that the University of Coronet had allowed her to use for her research project was barely larger than a closet, but it was usually quiet and allowed her to focus on the work she needed to complete her degree in xenobiology. Doctor Kindsay rarely spoke to her, his work more focused in the hospital on the ground floor than on the third where the research students were holed away.
As he began to dig through the cabinet, Kindsay continued to chatter. “They’re going to bleed us dry of supplies one day, and for what?” He turned to Elhy suddenly, gesturing with a medkit in his hands that has probably been old during the Clone Wars, and yelled, “So they can keep killing people for profit and glory!”
His eye roll and sneer told Elhy what he thought about that.
“We are at war,” Elhy replied cautiously.
“War?” Kindsay grumbled. “These are mercenaries that don’t care which side they kill as long as they get paid. And the military has the gall to allow them to raid our stores so we barely have enough to treat actual, law abiding, civilian patients!” He wiped a layer of dust off the medical supplies he was pulling from the cabinet and slammed them down on the corner of her desk. “Take these down stairs, and see if they’ll leave without blowing up something.”
Elhy frowned, but gathered up the boxes and followed the doctor’s orders. As she stepped off the lift, a red gauntlet caught her shoulder and steered her away from maglev gurney that would have flattened her in seconds. Once she was clear, the hand fell away, and she stared up at the helmeted head of her rescuer. He tilted his head toward the supplies in her arms and said in a scratchy drone, “Those for us?”
“Yes,” Elhy stammered and thrust the boxes at the Mandalorian.
He laughed, gathered them from her and threw them on the next passing gurney. He patted her shoulder again, and turned down the hallway as something drew his attention.
“Naast!” another Mandalorian called out, this one in blue painted armor. “Quit flirting with the nurses and lets go.”
The first Mandalorian laughed again, and tipped his head in Elhy’s direction, flicking two fingers against his helmet in salute, and then followed his friend out of the med center.
“I’m not a nurse!” Elhy called after them, and the second Mando just shook his head with a disgusted sigh.
The next time Elhy ran into the Mandalorian, it was literal. Since graduating and receiving her doctorate from the Imperial Academy of Science, she had holed herself up on Tatooine so she could study the breeding habits of dewbacks, and how their hides repelled kreetle venom in hopes of manufacturing a toxin-resistant armor plating. She’d taken a break from her research to explore the Mos Espa bazaar when the rebels attacked.
Blaster fire echoed through the streets and over the screams of a panicked crowd, and Elhy found herself pushed into a back alley behind the cantina. As she peeked around a corner, looking for the best escape route, a familiar figure in red and tan armor collided with her, carrying her backwards several feet. She stumbled, tripped and fell on her ass.
The Mandalorian stared down at her for a heartbeat, glanced back in the direction he’d run from, then offered his hand to help her stand. “The Not-A-Nurse from C-net,” he said in that mechanized, toneless voice she’d learned was part of the armor’s integrated comm system.
“The Mandalorian that steals medical supplies from civilian hospitals,” she replied evenly.
He huffed—a scoff or a laugh, she couldn’t tell—and tipped his helmet at her. “Stop getting in my way,” he told her, then unholstered his gun and disappeared back around the corner.
When Elhy was brave enough to look around the wall, he was gone.
The third time Elhy encountered the Mandalorians, it was during a raid on Bestine. She stood in the ruins of her lab, on the verge of tears as she looked at the years of research that had been wiped away with one thermal detonator. The door burst open, and one of her colleagues, a short woman with messy pink hair, flew inside, followed by several large figures in distinctive armor. Two were dragging a third between them, while a fourth covered the door with quick bursts of blaster fire.
“Doctor Solari!” Verne cried, hugging Elhy around the waist. “I thought the worst!”
“A doctor,” one of the Mandalorians said, hauling his injured companion further into the room. “I need you to fix him.”
“I’m not that kind of doctor,” Elhy protested, but began searching her office for a first aid kit. The Mandos laid their friend out on her desk, pushing her data pads and vid screens to the floor with the rest of the rubble.
“What kind of doctor are you?” The injured Mando asked. She recognized him by his blue armor, one of the ones she’d encountered in Coronet.
“Veterinary xenobiologist,” Elhy replied, opening the kit. She looked at the armor he wore, the smoldering braces of his leggings that were oozing blood and putrid fluid that indicated an acid attack. She reached back into the kit for some PPE, and came up with a pair of flimsy surgical gloves.
The red one laughed and slapped Blue on the shoulder. “Perfect,” he said gleefully. “Frozen is a bit of an animal, letting himself get shot like a stupid bantha. Certainly smells like one.”
“Fuck you, Tannis,” the blue one grumbled, shifting on the makeshift operating table. He clutched a large rifle to his chest and hissed softly in pain when Elhy lifted the armor away from his wound.
“I need to sedate him,” Elhy said, looking up at Tannis.
“No!” The blue one—Frozen—protested. He flinched away from the injector Elhy held up that contained a painkiller and sedative combo.
Tannis glanced at the other two Mando who stood protectively in the doorway, then back at Frozen. He leaned down, and put a hand over the rifle Frozen still clutched possessively. He didn’t try to take it, but he said in a low voice, “I’ll watch over you, brother. Let her fix you, and we can go home.”
Frozen stilled for a long moment, then nodded and let Tannis lift his rifle away. Tannis turned to Elhy, shouldering the gun, and his tinny voice lost all emotion as he said: “Make this quick, and I won’t have to kill you.”
Elhy took a deep breath and tried to remember the humanoid anatomy classes she took so long ago. Her life just got a lot more interesting.
2087
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