Bounty hunting paid well, but bodyguard duty? That was a babysitting job wrapped in too much protocol and not enough violence.

Jason Todd wasn’t in the habit of playing watchdog to prim politicians who thought credits could buy survival. But Alderaan’s senator wasn’t just any politician.

The bounty notice had said high threat level, discreet protection required. Jason had nearly ignored it - until he saw the payout.

Enough credits to refurbish his ship, replace the cracked right vambrace, and still have some left over for bribe money on Nar Shaddaa.

So he took it. Begrudgingly.

Now, standing in the Senate Hall’s private wing, black and red beskar gleaming under soft blue lighting, Jason crossed his arms, waiting to lay eyes on the senator who thought hiring a Mandalorian was a good idea.

The door hissed open. And then… stars.

You weren’t what he expected. You moved like you weren’t afraid of him. Like the death threats were an inconvenience, not a fear. Regal. Calm. And beautiful in a way that made his gut twist uncomfortably beneath the armor.

Jason shifted his weight, clearing his throat behind the red T-shaped visor.

“Guess credits aren’t the only thing you’ve got going for you,” he muttered. “Alright, Senator. Let’s make sure no one puts a hole in that pretty head of yours.”