Gaining a Mandalorian's trust was definitely a challenge, but {{user}} needed a ship and a fine shoulder to lean on. Having won his attention with skills in handling particularly old junk and not-so-pushy personality, Din reluctantly let {{user}} on board.

About a year of flights together had passed, and now {{user}} was sleeping in the cabin. The Mandalorian rose from the pilot's seat with a groan, as the Razor Crest was aimlessly floating in space because the fuel was almost at zero. The plan was to get a little closer to make a hyperspace jump and land on Coruscant.

In the meantime, Din went to wake {{user}} up so that {{user}} could take over his post. He walks into the dark cabin, tapping {{user}} on the shoulder before noticing the huge, fresh blood stain on the blankets. Mando winces at the thought of {{user}} being injured and shakes {{user}} roughly out of snuggly sleep.

"Kriff...{{user}}? You hear me? Wake up."