Chapter Text
Mandalorians, by their very nature, were secretive as fuck.
Cara watched from the porch, her new ally moving easily among the farmers. He was a bit of an enigma to her, his armour effectively hiding any trace of his scent. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest, but she could deal with it.
She knew very little of Mandalorians; only stories from outsider perspectives, but from what she could gather of their alphas, was that they were incredibly aggressive, prone to violence and posturing. As shock troopers, they were frighteningly effective, razing enemy troops to the ground with callous efficiency.
On the other hand though, their omegas were widely considered to be among the most oppressed in the galaxy, rarely leaving their clans. Mandalorian omegas, the rare occasions they were seen, were always dressed head to toe in long robes that reached to the floor. Their cowls covered their faces completely, with a net that allowed them to see. It was always sewn in a facsimile of the Mandalorian helmet, which Cara personally saw as an insult to the one wearing it. A sign that the person underneath was a part of their culture but not a worthy one.
No, Cara really couldn’t reconcile the behaviour of this Mando with either an alpha or omega. He had to be a beta. Not aggressive unless provoked, so level headed and the way he conducted himself around the farmers? He was so polite, so gentle with the children. The armour he wore was almost at odds with the way he acted among the village folk. If she hadn't fought with him before coming here, she honestly would have doubted that he was as capable as his armour’s reputation suggested. And then there was that small alien child he had with him. It was clear that the Mandalorian wasn’t the same species, unless he’d had his ears docked.
Cara snorted at the thought. Not likely. Though it did beg the question about why he had the small child with him. A bounty? Stolen? From what she did know of Mandalorian culture, either could be true. The child clearly trusted him though, so there was that.
She sipped on her spotchka, wondering if it would be easier to just ask the man about the culture that he obviously held dear. Omera had already tried though; asking him about the helmet. That had gone well; the woman had been a little horrified at his answer, based on her expression post the conversation Cara’d eavesdropped on.
Nah, she’d just keep her musings to herself. Though she definitely needed a better topic to dwell on.
---
The planned assault on the village had gone well, minus one small detail. The Mandalorian had been caught in an explosion, not that he had actually told anyone that. Cara would probably have never found out either, if she hadn’t literally caught the man as he stumbled to the ground.
“Mando, you’re injured.” She tugged him back to his feet, steering him towards his empty hut. “I can help with applying some bacta, so I need to take this armour off.”
His entire body seemed to hunch over, as if he were trying to protect himself, but then she heard him sigh. His hand clutched at her arm, “Anything but the helmet.”
She nodded, “Don’t touch the helmet, got it.”
Mando settled back against the cot with a small sigh, trusting her at her word. Cara got to work, carefully dismantling the layers of beskar plate and material that hid his skin from the world. She frowned as an unexpected scent assaulted her, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled pure omega.
“Mando...you’re…fuck” Cara flinched from him, her hands coming up immediately into a defensive position. “I swear, I didn’t know, I’m not trying to get into your pants or anything, well...I guess I am, but fuck, I swear it’s not because I thought...fuck.”
“Cara,” Mando snickered. “What the fuck are you on about?”
She couldn’t help but avert her eyes and whisper, “I didn’t know you were an omega Mando. I swear. I thought you were a beta, I mean, the way you act, it’s not anything that I’ve heard about with Mandalorian omegas and - ”
“Cara,” he turned his head to look at her. “What's that got to do with anything?”
“We’re here alone, and I’m here pretty much undressing you, and well…” Cara could feel her face getting hotter as the Mandolorian started wheezing under his helmet. His scent broadcasted brightly; tangy amusement that he seemed unable to control.
“I didn’t realise an offer to help rub bacta on someone was an invitation for sex out here Cara, but if makes you feel better, I’m already bonded.”
“You’re bonded?” she squeaked, heart racing. Was she going to have to expect a visit from an outraged alpha that she had dared to touch their omega?
Mando began to laugh. “No, you don’t have to expect a visit from my bondmate. He’s nowhere near here.”
Oh, she’d said that last bit out loud. “Oh thank god, you have no idea how quickly that would get weird.” She may be an alpha, but fuck, she wasn’t raised to be anything less than honourable. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to not be a creep but...fuck...considering what I’ve heard about your people’s omegas, to find out that you’re one is well...fuck.”
The Mandalorian just chuckled. “Stop rambling Cara.”
The use of her name seemed to snap her out of her rambles. “Okay then...how about you take off the armour then?”
She could almost feel the eye rolling behind his helmet, but he did as she bid. "You know, this is one of the reasons I don’t tend to bother telling anyone about my secondary sex. Aruetii like you have some strange ideas."
“Ahrooaytee...what does that mean?”
“Outsider.”
“Ah.” She was curious as hell now but busied herself with preparing the bacta strips. Behind her, she could hear the various pieces of armour coming off, and rustling of the bodysuit coming undone. Cara turned back around to find the Mandalorian’s upper body exposed, her eyes lingering on the bond mark on the other’s neck. It felt beyond awkward for a reason she couldn’t quite put into words. They had fought together, brought peace to this small village together and yet, it felt like this changed everything.
“Cara?” his helmeted head moved slightly, before she could hear a slight sigh from the man. “Give me the bacta Cara, I’ll do it.”
“No, its okay...I’m being stupid.”
A low chuckle came from Mando. “That you are. You don’t act like this around the village omegas - ” He cut off with a short hiss as Cara applied the bacta strip to one of his more nasty bruises.
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“Then why with me?”
She turned to gather the next strip rather than reply right away. Turning back around, she pressed it against another bruise. “You’re probably going to call me a stupid ahroaitii - “
“Aruetii.”
“- ahroetii for this, but everything I’ve heard about Mandalorian omegas is that you are practically enslaved, one of the most oppressed people in the galaxy. And to learn that this badass Mando beta, is actually an omega and somehow out on their own when...Mando...why are you laughing so hard?”
“I’m sitting here, literally in beskar armour, surrounded by weapons, and like you said, capable in combat and you’re talking to me about ‘oppression’?” He chortled. “Cara, I’m sorry but think about what you’re saying for a second.”
“Yeah, that’s fair. You sure you’re not laughing at me trying to speak your language, though?”
“That’s pretty funny too,” he admitted, chuckling until Cara put the next strip of bacta on.
Silence filled the hut then. Cara applying the necessary bacta, and Mando allowing her.
“You know I trust you, right?”
Cara blinked. Her hands paused above his back, the bacta strip beginning to slowly drip down. She hadn’t realised it, but now that he had mentioned it...He had shown it to her when asking her to accompany him to the village, when he handed her his rifle unquestioningly during the battle. And now, he trusted her with his literal back and secondary sex. She smiled, and pressed the last of the bacta against him.
“I don’t know why, but thank you. I’ll honour that trust.”
The omega chuckled, “Don’t be getting flowery on me now, Dune.” His helmet twisted to face her, and for a moment, Cara imagined she could see his eyes.
She laughed. “I don’t even know your name, Mando.” Cara wasn’t expecting anything from the statement, so she was sure that the omega was clearly able to scent her surprise when he answered.
“It’s Din.”
“Din eh?” Cara grinned. “So, question?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you get sick of being called ‘Mando’ all the time?”
Din laughed. “A little,” he admitted. He stood from the cot, stretching his back out. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s what friends do yeh?”
He nodded, reaching for the discarded armour. Gingerly, he replaced it, each piece sliding into place with practiced movements. Slowly, his scent disappeared, rendering him silent again. “Do you know where the child is?”
Cara nodded, “He was with Winta. I’ll bet he’s still there.”
Din left the hut without another word. Before, she would have thought him aloof. Before, she had contemplated that he had stolen the child. But now? She suspected that he was just naturally quiet, a man of few words that let his actions speak for him. No one would go through that much just to protect something they didn’t give a shit about.
Underneath that armour was a man who cared greatly and deeply.