(no subject)
The Mandalorians on Dxun were social, energetic and inclined towards brawling, especially with any non-Mandalorian - The few days Atton had been there had been fun, but violent. He’d spent the vast majority of his days at the dueling circle or out hunting animals as every Mandalorian in the group made a point of testing his worthiness, or trying to take out their frustrations on him.
Atton was all too happy to accept their challenges. Every victory over a Mandalorian was a tiny bit of revenge that made him feel considerably better about working with them.
Nights were spent sat around massive bonfires and drinking particularly noxious smelling ales. When Atton bored of drinking, he’d wander to his ship to send a transmission to Onderon and check up on Lyman. Some days he spoke to Talia.
Atton wasn’t surprised when, one day, he found Mandalore awaiting him at his ship, helmet off.
“The soldiers are ready, and the ships. Is your woman holding up her end?”
“Reiko’s not my woman.” Atton protested absently. “And yes. She’s reliable, and she’s already sent us all the information we need.”
“That was quick.”
“I told you she’s good.” Atton refrained from looking smug. “You’re certain you don’t want payment? I haven’t raided Czerka for credits for a while, now.”
Mandalore snorted. “This is a favour, Rand. Your payment will be one in return, when I call upon you.”
Atton nodded, staring off at some point just past Mandalore’s shoulder.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.” Mandalore echoed. “Intending to tell your brother?”
“Don’t be a di’kut.” Atton shook his head. “It’s best if he doesn’t know, don’t you think?”
Mandalore didn’t reply.