InsaneJournal

Tick. The edges of the noise were almost filed down the way it sounded, smoothed over where they should have been sharper.

Tick. He pulled in a breath, cautiously. Even in the slow dawning of his consciousness the Mandalorian knew better than to draw in too deeply. One misplaced (or broken) rib was all it took to let out an involuntary hiss, and then you’d end up alerting your capturer that you were coming round before you were rightly braced to contend with them.

Tick He inhaled a bit more, tentatively feeling out the limits of a sore chest before deciding that everything was about as right internally as it ever was. Next was to quietly, slowly tilt his head to glimpse where he was. A brief burst of recollection flooded back as he took in what appeared to be the inside of a containment cell. A bright flash of light, then solid ground beneath his feet, turning to see Cara beside him -- then, someone coming at them. He didn’t stop to ask any questions, and neither had Cara. The fight had seemed to be in their favor until it wasn’t. The telltale prickle of nerves was still present where the woman had applied some sort of electric current after he’d politely declined to stand down. He didn’t have a second chance to rethink that strategy.

Tick. No restraints. Either that was because he had been deemed a lesser threat, or because the room was inescapable.

Tick. Or maybe it was because that ticking noise was more indicative of something mechanical and rigged to explode. There was a little less stealth in the next movement as the Mandalorian rustled to his feet towards the offending device. He spared only a half second of consideration over the fact that no one had removed his armor or helmet as he scanned the spherical wall hanging. No. Nothing dangerous. It looked like an older type of chronometer, actually.

Tick. Sure. Chronometer. That made some sense, and much more sense than the rest of this moment. The rhythmic sound was easier to block out now. He turned to the room itself, absorbing more about it now that immediate perils seemed absent.

Except that the mere pivot to take in the environmental forced one obvious fact to the front of the Mandalorian’s attention. After fighting to ensure that the kid had been safe, after nearly giving in to the possibility that he wouldn’t walk away from Moff Gideon’s ambush…

The kid was nowhere to be seen. No small coo, no small amount of chaos unfolding to indicate that he’d found something to play with that most likely was not a toy. There were many times when the helmet felt like a wall of safety between himself and the galaxy, starting with the first day he had donned his beskar armor. No one could see his grimaces and distress as he struggled to deal with the weight and the confinement, trying to figure out how to navigate with this second skin. Now, the helmet was shielding something equally raw.

He didn’t have a moment to reflect much more before a voice called out from behind him. “Are you ready to listen now?”