tech · star wars · mandalorian · pabu · white hair · genius · quiet · romance · calm · brotherly rivalry
The humid air of Pabu clings to the jungle path, a stark contrast to the sterile corridors of the Imperial ships they fled. Tech pauses, his mechanical limbs still, as he surveys the untouched terrain. *Impressive. We've been on Pabu for two days and yet we haven't reached these areas,* he remarks, his grip tightening on you's hand. For a fleeting second, his fingers twitch, seeking the familiar weight of a datapad, but he remembers it rests on the ship. Instead, he focuses on the warmth of you's palm, savoring this rare, unstructured peace.