Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One
The Job

“I wouldn’t go and bother the Mandalorian if I were you, darlin’, he’s crankier than a bantha in heat.”

(Y/N) offered the grizzled old mechanic a small shrug and continued on her way to the weathered Razor Crest at the end of the docking bay, barely making out his mumbled ‘suit yourself’ as she did. If it were any other situation she’d probably heed the old man’s warning and steer clear of the Mandalorian, but in this instance, the unusual stranger was her only hope. Courage over fear, she thought to herself, taking small comfort in her old childhood mantra as she neared the lowered ramp of the ship.

“Hello?” (Y/N) called out. “Is anyone in there?”

“What do you want?”

She jumped and quickly turned around to see the Mandalorian standing before her, his beskar-clad body visibly tense as one hand rested on the blaster strapped to his hip. The shock of his sudden appearance soon gave way to stunned awe; in all her travels, she’d never seen a Mandalorian as intimidating as the one currently staring her down. “Hello there. I was hoping to…well, I wanted to hire you for a job.”

“I’m not looking for any jobs right now.” The Mandalorian gruffly replied, brushing past her to lift a supply box from the ground. “You should try the local cantina; I’m sure someone there could use the work.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed and she hurried to follow him onto his ship. “I spent all morning down there and everyone I talked to didn’t want anything to do with me. Not that I blame them, though, I’ve only been on this planet for a week…and the job I’m offering isn’t exactly an easy one…and I only have three hundred credits to-” She broke off when she realized he was staring at her. “What?”

He shook his head, setting the box down before heading back down the ramp. “You want a bit of free advice? A client’s supposed to make a job sound enticing. Maybe you’ll have better luck in the next town over, it’s only a couple of hours away on speeder bike and that’ll give you plenty of time to work on your sales pitch.”

Recognizing the sarcasm in the Mandalorian’s modulated voice, (Y/N)’s blood began to boil. “I thought that Mandalorians were supposed to help those in need, not ridicule and make fun of them.” He stopped dead in his tracks, but at that point (Y/N) didn’t care. All she could think of was getting away from the man as soon as possible. “But I guess I’m just naïve, believing in such outlandish fairy tales.” She stormed down the ship’s ramp and past the Mandalorian without giving him a second glance, blinking away her angry tears as she struggled to formulate a new plan.

“Wait!”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder to see the Mandalorian hurrying after her but she continued walking away. “Why, so I can let a nerf herder like you insult me some more? No thanks.”

“Udesii! Wait, just wait a sec…!” He quickly caught up to her and blocked her path, his hands raised to halt her. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me back there. Tell me what the job is and then I’ll decide.”

Still wary of him, (Y/N) exhaled through her nose before answering. “I need someone to steal my possessions back…and I need help ridding this planet of the Black Sun once and for all.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilted to the side in obvious shock. “The Black Sun crime syndicate? They’re still in operation around these parts?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Since the fall of the Empire, there’s been rumors that some crime syndicates have turned to piracy to stay afloat and under the radar of the New Republic. From what I got out of the locals, the Black Sun conducts raids on their homesteads and whenever they’re feeling particularly bold, occasionally hijack small ships from docking bays. The moment I landed here to refuel, I was ambushed; they took my blaster before I could defend myself and kicked my ass before stealing my ship and leaving me nearly unconscious on the floor.” She swallowed thickly, remembering the grief-stricken faces of the townsfolk she’d spoken to that week. “According to the locals, it’s extremely rare that someone survives an encounter with the Black Sun.” Crossing her arms over her chest, (Y/N) stared down the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet. “These people have suffered more than anyone should, first under the Empire and now the Black Sun, and I can’t just leave this planet knowing that their suffering will only continue. The two of us working together should be enough to take them down and get my things back; if you turn the job down, though, then I’ll just get myself a blaster and do it myself.”

“That’s a good way of getting yourself killed.” He blocked her path again as she attempted to move around him. “This means that much to you?” There wasn’t any scorn in his tone or even any judgement, only curiosity, and the shift in his attitude was what compelled her to slowly nod her head. “Okay, then, you’ve got yourself a deal. Now, I’m gonna need you to tell me everything you’ve learned about the Black Sun and their operations on this planet…”

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Hours later, the sun was beginning to set as (Y/N) anxiously watched the Mandalorian arm himself for the impending night mission. They’d spent the afternoon formulating a plan to get her possessions back and take down the Black Sun and while he was confident that it would work, (Y/N) couldn’t help but worry as the memory of her attack played in her mind. The Black Sun operatives had been brutal and ruthless during their hijacking, and she had no problem believing that they could’ve easily done far worse to her if they’d truly wanted to. If all the stories are true then a deadly Mandalorian warrior shouldn’t have any problem taking them on, she reminded herself, the thought succeeding in temporarily soothing her nerves.

An affectionate coo pulled (Y/N) out of her silent ruminations, and she glanced down to see the small green child holding a silver sphere out to her as he continued his indistinguishable babbling. “That’s a…that’s a really pretty toy you’ve got there.” She gave the child a small smile but frowned when he showed no signs of stopping. “Um…”

“He wants you to roll it.” When (Y/N) raised a questioning brow at the Mandalorian, he shrugged his shoulders. “He likes to chase after it sometimes.”

“Okay, then.” Carefully lowering herself to the ground, she gently took the sphere from the child’s tiny green hand and rolled it down the length of the ship, stifling a giggle as she watched him chase after it. “The little guy’s pretty fast, isn’t he?”

The Mandalorian snorted. “Fast and up to no good.”

To say that (Y/N) had been surprised to learn that the Mandalorian was caring for a child would be an understatement; it had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed not to gape when the man had introduced her to the wrinkled green child and told her that she’d be watching him for part of the evening while he completed the first half of the mission. She wasn’t exactly the greatest when it came to interacting with children; it wasn’t because she disliked them or anything, but rather because she’d never been around many children before. Maybe things will be different with this little one, she thought to herself as she watched the child waddle back to her with his toy clutched in his hand.

“You sure you’ll be able to fly this thing? A Razor Crest takes some getting used to…”

(Y/N) rolled the sphere again before straightening and giving the Mandalorian a confident nod. “It’s an antique, all right, but lucky for you, I learned to fly using antiquated ships just like this one. And you’re going to be okay getting into the compound by yourself?” Although she couldn’t see his face, she knew that he must’ve been giving her a pointed look from under the helmet. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’…”

He brushed past her and picked the child up off the ground before setting him down inside the ship’s sleeping compartment. “Nap time, you little womp rat. Time to get some rest before all hell breaks loose.”

Wanting to give the two some privacy, (Y/N) busied herself by cleaning up the blaster the Mandalorian had lent her in case of an emergency. Once she was finished, she fastened the holster around her waist and took a brief moment to examine it; the leather holster was well-worn, much like everything else on board the Mandalorian’s ship, but the craftsmanship was undeniably exceptional. I’d give anything to work on a challenge like this, she thought a little wistfully.

“Okay, let’s go over the plan one last time.” She looked up to see the Mandalorian standing before her and a part of her couldn’t help but marvel at how quietly he could move. “I’ll head to the compound on foot and enter just after sunset. Once I plant the bombs and have your possessions, I’ll radio you and that’s when you’ll fly in with the Crest. I’ll jet up to the ship with your things while you cover me; based on what the locals told you, they’ve got some heavy weaponry stashed in that compound and I’d rather not give them a chance to use ‘em, so it’s your job to take them out before they can. Then we’ll fly off and detonate the bombs before going into hyperspace.”

She gave him a nod. “And while you’re gone, I’ll boot up the ship’s guns and watch over the child.” The Mandalorian fastened his jet pack to his back and slung a pulse rifle over his shoulder before wordlessly turning to head down the ramp of the ship. Biting her bottom lip, she hesitated a moment before hurrying after him. “Wait!”

The Mandalorian stopped, turning towards her with his helmet tilted a little to the side. “What is it?”

“I just…I wanted to properly thank you for taking this job.” (Y/N) held out her hand to him and gave him a small smile. “And I also wanted to wish you luck.”

Several long moments went by where he only stared silently at her outstretched hand and made no move to take it. Her face flushed with embarrassment and just as she was beginning to lower her hand, the Mandalorian reached forward and firmly grasped it in his own. Surprised, her gaze met his visor and despite not being able to see his eyes, she knew that they were boring into hers. The moment they had shared ended abruptly, with the Mandalorian releasing her hand and quickly exiting the Razor Crest without so much as a backwards glance.

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“Maker, this ship really is an antique,” (Y/N) mumbled, giving a side panel a hard smack and shaking her head in exasperation when the switches’ lights finally blinked on; the Mandalorian had only been gone for a little over a half an hour when his deep voice had come through the ship’s communication radio, much quicker than she’d anticipated; now, she was scrambling to quickly get the old ship into the air to finish the job. “Where’d he find this thing, a Tatooine junkyard?”

“I heard that.”

She smirked to herself as she flipped a couple of switches and slowly pushed a lever up, the engines immediately whirling to life. “You misunderstood me; just because something’s old and worn doesn’t mean there isn’t value to be found in it. This ship’s been through a lot, that’s true, but…” As the ship had risen far enough off the ground, (Y/N) pushed forward on the joysticks and they instantly flew through the sky. “She’s also got one of the best propulsion engines I’ve ever seen, a lot better than the ones some of the newer ships are built with.”

“I’m glad it meets your approval but I could really use an exit right now.”

“On it.” (Y/N) replied, increasing the ship’s speed as she weaved it between jagged stone spires. Emerging from the cluster of rock formations, she immediately saw the sprawling compound and the large blaster cannons that had turned towards the ship; tightly gripping the controls, (Y/N) swerved out of the way of the oncoming blaster bolts and quickly returned fire. She managed to hit one on her first pass before smoothly spinning around for another, calling out into the cockpit’s communication radio, “Okay, where are you?”

“Southwest corner!”

Adjusting her course, (Y/N) fired off another shot and hit a second blaster cannon before finally spotting the Mandalorian, who was pinned down behind an overturned land speeder and exchanging blaster fire with a handful of heavily-armed Black Sun operatives. She put the ship on autopilot before scrambling down the ladder and slamming her hand down on the nearest control panel; the ship’s side ramp began to slowly lower but she didn’t stick around to watch its progress.

Once she climbed back up the ladder, (Y/N) dropped into the pilot’s chair and buckled herself in just as the remaining blaster cannon fired and hit the Razor Crest’s left wing, causing the ship to jostle and list on impact. Another sharp jolt came from something landing hard on the lowered ramp and moments later, she could hear it being raised back up; switching back into manual control, (Y/N) yelled out, “If you’re back there then you’d better hang on!” before activating the thrusters and wrenching the joysticks to the left, steering the ship into a rapid corkscrew spin. Her stomach clenched with pent-up adrenaline and just as her vision had begun to blur from dizziness, (Y/N) squeezed the triggers and fired, grinning to herself as the red bolts destroyed the third and final blaster cannon.

(Y/N) pulled the joysticks up, smoothly exiting the turning maneuver, and began firing on the compound as they swooped over it, going so fast that she wasn’t able to see the result of her successful run. Deciding that she’d bought them enough time, she began flipping several switches in preparation for the jump to hyperspace; as she worked, she heard the Mandalorian ascend the ladder into the cockpit and move to stand behind her, and the monitor before her showed the compound exploding in a ball of fire. Neither of them said anything as the ship exited the planet’s upper atmosphere, and she could feel his eyes on the back of her neck when she pushed a lever up and launched them into hyperspace.

“Who are you?”

Furrowing her brow in confusion, (Y/N) turned the pilot’s seat around to face the Mandalorian, who was pointing his blaster pistol at her. She decided that it would be wise not to make any sudden moves, instead keeping her hands resting firmly on the arms of the seat. “Excuse me?”

“The only people who fly like that are bounty hunters and smugglers, so which one is it?”

“…I was a smuggler in the employ of the Rebellion for five years. I was honorably discharged by the New Republic shortly after the Battle of Endor and have been retired ever since.” (Y/N) reluctantly but calmly explained, and she was unsurprised when the Mandalorian’s tense demeanor didn’t change. “I’m not lying to you. If you let me go down and look through my things you retrieved, I’ll even show you some proof.” After a brief moment of hesitation, he nodded and lowered the blaster. “Thank you.”

Descending the ladder, (Y/N)’s gaze immediately landed on the familiar beat-up storage container beside the ship’s carbonite-freezing chamber. In an instant, she dropped onto the ground beside it and began rifling through its contents. Clothing? Check. Sewing kit? Check. Spare blaster? Check. But when she finally located the leather-bound book at the bottom of the container, she closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh of relief. Thank the Maker, I didn’t lose it, she thought to herself. The modulated sound of a throat being cleared jostled her out of her moment of calm; she opened her eyes and glanced over to see the Mandalorian leaning up against the wall of the ship, still holding his blaster. “Oh, sorry, here…” She reached into the pocket of one of her coats, pulled out her old identification puck and handed it over to him.

He activated the puck and they watched as a hologram of her face and rank flickered on. “Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Rebel Smuggler.” Returning her puck, the Mandalorian finally relaxed his stance and holstered the weapon. “Sorry about all that but in my line of work…”

“It’s okay, I understand.” (Y/N) got to her feet and walked over to the armory to return her borrowed blaster and holster. “You’re hardly the first person to pull a blaster on me and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to watch her. “Well, alor’ad, that was some pretty good flying…for an ex-smuggler, that is.”

(Y/N) raised a brow in surprise, both at the nickname and at the playful jab. Was he, the intimidating Mandalorian warrior, actually teasing her? She glanced over at him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Ah, the galaxy’s age-old debate: which are the better pilots, smugglers or bounty hunters? It’s a little sad that there’s still bounty hunters out there who’ve diluted themselves into thinking they’re as good as smugglers.”

“As an ex-bounty hunter myself, I take offense to that. If I had access to another ship, I’d challenge you to a race right now but fortunately for you, I don’t.”

“Well, in my experience, bounty hunters are all talk and no action, so I’d say that you’re the fortunate one, not me.” Grinning triumphantly, (Y/N) couldn’t suppress her amused giggles any longer as he merely shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. Once her laughter died down, she reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out her money bag. “Three hundred New Republic credits, as promised.” In an instant, the good mood dissipated from the ship; he easily caught the money bag and pushed himself off the wall, his stoic stance returning as he gave her a short nod. She returned her attention to the open armory, feeling incredibly awkward as she continued. “I already input the coordinates to the nearest friendly planet, Batuu. We should be there in less than two hours and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Yeah…yeah, of course. I’ll, um…I’ll be in the cockpit, if you need anything.”

She heard the Mandalorian make his way back up the ladder and when she was sure he was gone, she finally released the breath she’d been holding. She’d enjoyed working alongside the Mandalorian so much that she’d nearly forgotten that it was a temporary arrangement. Once they landed on Batuu they’d part ways; she’d find work somewhere on the planet and he’d go off on his next adventure. Well, it was fun while it lasted, she thought to herself as she moved to sit beside her open storage container, trying not to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t felt that alive since her old Rebel days.

Giving her head a small shake, (Y/N) turned her attention back to her things and began thoroughly going through them to see if anything might be missing. Her task was soon interrupted, though, by the sound of a small coo; glancing around, she noticed the green child waddling towards her, his large eyes filled with curiosity. “Oh, hey there, little guy. Did you have a good nap?”

The child made another babbling noise that didn’t sound quite as happy as the first had been, which made (Y/N) bite back a smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry if I woke you with all the spinning. But it was worth it; an entire planet’s finally free to live in peace and I got all my stuff back, see?” She watched the child’s ears perk up with interest as he slowly made his way towards the small pile of clothing and other items; he soon became interested in her brown ankle-length Shaak-hide coat, running a tiny clawed hand over the soft leather. “You like that? It’s really comfortable to wear, and…”

Trailing off, (Y/N) was suddenly struck with inspiration. “I have just the perfect thing in mind for you, little guy.” She smiled as she gently took the coat from his grasp and reached for her sewing kit. “And I think you’re gonna like it…”

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Just as (Y/N) had predicted, the journey to Batuu was relatively short and uneventful; the child had quickly grown disinterested with her project, choosing to slowly climb up the ladder to where the Mandalorian was busy piloting. She didn’t mind, though, silently reveling in the peacefulness of her task that she knew others would find mundane. Finishing up just as the Razor Crest began its descent, she managed to carefully hide her completed work behind her back before the Mandalorian began climbing down the ladder.

They made their way down the ramp, carrying her storage container between the two of them. “Here we are: Black Spire Outpost.” The Mandalorian set the container down, his gloved hands hanging stiffly by his sides. “I guess this is it.”

“Yeah. Before I go, I…well, I wanted to give you something. It’s actually for the little guy, but I thought I’d give it to you.” Anxiously biting her bottom lip, (Y/N) handed him the small bundle and watched as he began unraveling it. “It’s a satchel, so you can carry him around with you whenever he gets too tired to walk. I used a part of one of my old coats to sew it; the little guy liked how soft it was and I wanted him to be comfortable. I noticed his pram on the ship but I thought he might like to travel in this, too.”

The Mandalorian stared down at the satchel in his hands for several long moments before looking back up at her. “That’s…very kind of you, alor’ad. I’m sure he’ll like it.”

(Y/N) noticed the child making his way down the ramp and smiled. “I think so, too.” Returning her gaze to the visor of his helmet, her smile fell a little. “Well, I guess I’ll see you two around.” She turned, hiking her bag over her shoulder and reaching down to grab her storage container’s handle as she tried to ignore the melancholy feeling blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“Wait.”

She straightened and spun back around to face the Mandalorian. “Yes?”

“I’ve been quested to return the child to his kind, but it’s been…challenging. Imps have put bounties on our heads and I’ve run out of leads on information to follow. You’re a hell of a pilot, alor’ad, and you’re very obviously a fighter, so…well, I could use a crew member of your abilities.”

“Wait…you want me to join your crew?”

The Mandalorian nodded. “I can pay you handsomely. It would be a completely equal partnership as well, as far as the workload goes. But I understand if you refuse; you’ve worked hard for a quiet life after the Rebellion and it would be unfair to ask you to abandon it.”

“You see, the thing about living a quiet life is that after a while, you find yourself hoping that something’ll come along to liven it up,” (Y/N) remarked, a smile slowly beginning to form on her face. “And it looks like today’s that day. I’m in.” They shook hands for the second time that day, but this one felt much more natural. “So, partner, what should I call you? I know that people usually call Mandalorians ‘Mando’ but it’s always sounded a bit like a slur to me and the last thing I wanna do is insult my new business partner, so what would you like me to call you?”

His helmet’s modulator made it difficult to tell, but she thought she heard him let out a chuckle. “You can call me ‘Mando.’ Welcome to the crew, alor’ad.”

Chapter Text

The Job (Chapter 1 From Din's POV)

Din Djarin was having a very bad day, the sort of day where nothing seemed to go his way. It all started when the fuel lines in the Razor Crest inexplicably began to leak; his rough patch job failed to hold, forcing him to land on the first backwater skug-hole he could find on the charts. The repairs came to over three hundred credits, which left them barely enough funds to purchase some much-needed supplies, and while fixing the fuel lines the droids had trashed the interior of the ship. On top of all that, the child had run off and he’d been forced to coax him from a tree with absolutely no idea how he’d gotten into it in the first place. The sooner we get off this planet the better, Din thought as he heaved a frustrated sigh, stepping out of the docking bay’s office and frowning when he spotted a woman lingering near his ship’s lowered ramp.

If Din had to guess, he’d say that the woman was some sort of captain; she wore a long dark coat over a beige flight suit, the legs tucked into a pair of well-worn boots, and the finger-less gloves she wore were frayed from use. The fading bruises and patched-up cuts on her face didn’t do much to disguise the fact that she was pretty, nor did the anxious frown as she peered into the open ship. It was clear that the woman was looking to hire a Mandalorian for some sort of job and Din sighed again at the thought; all he wanted to do was leave the planet and continue his quest to reunite the child with his own kind, not get involved with whatever problem the good-looking woman needed fixing.

“Hello?” The woman called out into the open ship. “Is anyone in there?”

Din strode up to her, one gloved hand cautiously moving to rest on his holstered blaster. “What do you want?”

She jumped at the sound of his modulated voice and spun around, her eyes widening a little as she took in his appearance. “Hello there. I was hoping to…well, I wanted to hire you for a job.”

“I’m not looking for any jobs right now.” Din lied before moving past her to load supply boxes into the ship. “You should try the local cantina; I’m sure someone there could use the work.”

Instead of leaving, the woman boldly followed him into the ship and crossed her arms over her chest. “I spent all morning down there and everyone I talked to didn’t want anything to do with me. Not that I blame them, though, I’ve only been on this planet for a week…and the job I’m offering isn’t exactly an easy one…and I only have three hundred credits to-” Din finally looked over at her and she immediately stopped rambling. “What?”

He shook his head in exasperation and set the supply box down, heading back down the ramp and suppressing an annoyed huff when he heard her follow after him. “You want a bit of free advice? A client’s supposed to make a job sound enticing. Maybe you’ll have better luck in the next town over, it’s only a couple of hours away on speeder bike and that’ll give you plenty of time to work on your sales pitch.”

“I thought that Mandalorians were supposed to help those in need, not ridicule and make fun of them.” The woman’s words coupled with her harsh tone made him freeze. “But I guess I’m just naïve, believing in such outlandish fairy tales.”

While she struggled to hold back her tears of anger, she stormed off and Din was filled with guilt, ashamed that he’d taken his frustrations out on someone so obviously in need of help. Dank farrik, he swore to himself as his shoulders sagged in defeat and he took off after her. “Wait!”

“Why, so I can let a nerf herder like you insult me some more? No thanks.”

“Udesii! Wait, just wait a sec…!” He managed to catch up to her and blocked her path with his gloved hands raised to halt her. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me back there. Tell me what the job is and then I’ll decide.”

The woman’s (Y/E/C) eyes narrowed in suspicion but after a long pause, she exhaled through her nose and finally answered, “I need someone to steal my possessions back…and I need help ridding this planet of the Black Sun once and for all.”

Din blinked in surprise and tilted his helmeted head to the side. “The Black Sun crime syndicate? They’re still in operation around these parts?”

She nodded solemnly. “Since the fall of the Empire, there’s been rumors that some crime syndicates have turned to piracy to stay afloat and under the radar of the New Republic. From what I got out of the locals, the Black Sun conducts raids on their homesteads and whenever they’re feeling particularly bold, occasionally hijack small ships from docking bays. The moment I landed here to refuel, I was ambushed; they took my blaster before I could defend myself and kicked my ass before stealing my ship and leaving me nearly unconscious on the floor.” She took a steadying breath and Din ignored the sudden urge to rest a hand on her shoulder in comfort. “According to the locals, it’s extremely rare that someone survives an encounter with the Black Sun.” The woman crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a pointed stare. “These people have suffered more than anyone should, first under the Empire and now the Black Sun, and I can’t just leave this planet knowing that their suffering will only continue. The two of us working together should be enough to take them down and get my things back; if you turn the job down, though, then I’ll just get myself a blaster and do it myself.”

“That’s a good way of getting yourself killed.” She tried to move around him but he was quick to block her path again. “This means that much to you?” He gently asked and she slowly nodded her head. “Okay, then, you’ve got yourself a deal. Now, I’m gonna need you to tell me everything you’ve learned about the Black Sun and their operations on this planet…”

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Comparing it to all the other jobs Din had taken in the past, this one was shaping up to be fairly straightforward: retrieve the client’s possessions and wipe out the remains of the Black Sun without getting killed. (Y/N), the name his new client had introduced herself with, did a terrible job of hiding her worry but Din was confident that their plan was fool-proof. This job can’t be any more challenging than ridding a Sorgan village of bandits and their AT-ST, he thought while he continued arming himself in preparation for the night mission.

The child’s familiar coo drew his attention over to where (Y/N) sat and he smiled in amusement at what he saw; the client’s brow was knit in confusion as the child offered her the silver sphere that had quickly become his favorite toy. “That’s a…that’s a really pretty toy you’ve got there.” He continued his indistinguishable babbling and her smile faltered a little. “Um…”

Din silently chuckled. “He wants you to roll it.” (Y/N) looked over at him and arched a questioning brow as he shrugged. “He likes to chase after it sometimes.”

“Okay, then…” She knelt on the floor of the ship and took the sphere from the child, rolling it across the floor and giggling to herself as he raced after it. “The little guy’s pretty fast, isn’t he?”

“Fast and up to no good.” Her smile widened at his comment and he found himself blushing at the sight. Clearing his throat, he quickly turned back to the open armory and pretended to rearrange several blasters while he continued. “You sure you’ll be able to fly this thing? A Razor Crest takes some getting used to…”

He glanced over in time to catch her confident nod. “It’s an antique, all right, but lucky for you, I learned to fly using antiquated ships just like this one. And you’re going to be okay getting into the compound by yourself?” Beneath his helmet, Din arched a brow and the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’…”

Closing up the armory, he picked the child up off the ground and set him down inside the sleeping compartment. “Nap time, you little womp rat. Time to get some rest before all hell breaks loose.” The child’s wide eyes looked up at him and he got the sense that he wanted to know what was going on. “My client and I are gonna get her things back from some very bad men and make sure that they don’t hurt anyone else. We’ll be back before you know it, kid.” He waited for the child to burrow into the blankets piled in his hammock, then closed the compartment with his vambrace and walked over to the client. “Okay, let’s go over the plan one last time.” She glanced up as she finished fastening the blaster holster around her waist and nodded. “I’ll head to the compound on foot and enter just after sunset. Once I plant the bombs and have your possessions, I’ll radio you and that’s when you’ll fly in with the Crest. I’ll jet up to the ship with your things while you cover me; based on what the locals told you, they’ve got some heavy weaponry stashed in that compound and I’d rather not give them a chance to use ‘em, so it’s your job to take them out before they can. Then we’ll fly off and detonate the bombs before going into hyperspace.”

“And while you’re gone, I’ll boot up the ship’s guns and watch over the child.” With a short nod, Din fastened his jet pack to his back and slung his pulse rifle over his shoulder; just as he was about to head down the ramp of the ship, he heard her follow after him and call out, “Wait!”

He turned around to face her. “What is it?”

“I just…I wanted to properly thank you for taking this job.” (Y/N) held out her hand to him and gave him a small smile. “And I also wanted to wish you luck.”

Din’s eyes flicked between the client’s face and her outstretched hand as a stunned feeling washed over him; in his line of work, it was rare to be thanked at all much less before the job had even been completed, and he couldn’t remember a time when a client had looked at him with such worry in their eyes. This was just another job to him but to her, it obviously meant much more and a handshake was the only way she could properly convey her gratitude. As he continued to stare in disbelief, (Y/N) ducked her head in embarrassment and began lowering her hand, but he was quick to reach forward and grasp it; their gazes met, despite the tinted visor of his beskar helmet, and Din found himself admiring the way her (Y/E/C) eyes caught the light of the planet’s setting suns. He flushed when he realized what he’d been doing and suddenly released her hand, turning and heading down the ramp of the the Razor Crest to carry out their mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Din reached the Black Sun’s compound, it was apparent that the mission would be as straightforward as he’d originally thought; their ground defenses were laughably simple to avoid and when he snuck his way inside, it didn’t take him long to locate the quickest way to (Y/N)’s possessions. They’ve still got some nasty weaponry here, he reminded himself as he fastened a charge to the nearest support beam, and the Black Sun’s not exactly known for being friendly to thieves. He kept moving through the compound, avoiding any operatives that crossed his path and setting charges as he went; he finally located the chamber that they’d utilized to house all of their stolen items and quickly located the silver storage container she’d described to him.

“Come in, Razor Crest,” He spoke quietly into his helmet’s comm. “I’ve secured the container, time for Step Two.”

“Copy that.” He listened as she prepared the Razor Crest for take-off and mumbled under her breath, “Maker, this ship really is an antique. Where’d he find this thing, a Tatooine junkyard?”

Din felt a surge of defensiveness for his battered but trustworthy ship. “I heard that.”

“You misunderstood me; just because something’s old and worn doesn’t mean there isn’t value to be found in it. This ship’s been through a lot, that’s true, but she’s also got one of the best propulsion engines I’ve ever seen, a lot better than the ones some of the newer ships are built with.”

He smiled a little at her words and grabbed the storage container, tucking it under his arm while he gripped the handle of his blaster tighter and made to leave the chamber; a sudden shout from a balcony above was quickly followed by a blaster bolt, and he was forced to duck behind a stack of crates to avoid more blaster fire. “I’m glad it meets your approval but I could really use an exit right now.”

“On it.” Din switched on his helmet’s thermal scan and located three warm bodies standing on the balcony, darting out from behind the crates and shooting each of them in the chest; he hurried out of the chamber and back through the compound as alarms blared throughout the hallways, the sound of thundering footsteps forcing him to shoot out a nearby window and jump down into the compound’s cluttered courtyard. He found cover behind an overturned land speeder just as a dozen Black Sun operatives flooded into the courtyard and pinned him down with cycler rifles. The familiar whirl of the Razor Crest’s engines grew louder and it appeared from behind a protruding spire, swerving to avoid one of the compound’s blaster cannons; his brow rose in surprise when the client returned fire, took out the cannon on her first pass and expertly spun around for another. “Okay, where are you?”

“Southwest corner!” Din exchanged fire with the surrounding operatives, hitting one in the neck before ducking back behind the land speeder. The Razor Crest flew overhead and once he confirmed that she’d lowered the ship’s side ramp, he activated his whistling birds and launched himself into the air, the jetpack’s glowing orange vents temporary blinding any operative still alive down below. Once his boots made contact with the floor of the ship, Din dropped the storage container and slammed his hand down onto the control panel to close the extended ramp.

“If you’re back there then you’d better hang on!”

(Y/N)’s muffled warning from the cockpit gave Din just enough time to wind an arm around the ladder before the ship sped forward into a rapid corkscrew spin; the sound of an explosion quickly faded away as the ship was smoothly steered out of the maneuver and leveled out, traveling through the darkened skies towards the planet’s upper atmosphere. Although he was grateful that the mission was complete, his client’s advanced piloting skills filled him with unease and he kept his blaster drawn as he climbed the ladder and entered the cockpit; she was preparing for the jump to hyperspace after having detonated the bombs he’d planted inside the compound, flipping various switches and moving levers with an intensely-focused expression on her face, and neither of them spoke until the ship left the planet and launched into space.

“Who are you?”

The client slowly turned the pilot’s seat around, keeping her hands on its arms as her eyes flicked between his helmet and the blaster aimed directly at her chest. “Excuse me?”

“The only people who fly like that are bounty hunters and smugglers,” Din explained. “So which one is it?”

“…I was a smuggler in the employ of the Rebellion for five years. I was honorably discharged by the New Republic shortly after the Battle of Endor and have been retired ever since.” Her voice was calm while she explained herself but her discomfort was obvious; she clearly disliked talking about her time with the Rebellion, so he was sure to file that information away but didn’t lower his weapon. “I’m not lying to you. If you let me go down and look through my things you retrieved, I’ll even show you some proof.” He considered her for a moment before nodding and lowering the blaster. “Thank you.”

They descended down into the lower level of the ship and Din carefully watched (Y/N) as she knelt beside her storage container and rifled through its contents; he spotted several pieces of clothing, the silver handle of a blaster and what appeared to be a sewing kit before noticing a leather-bound journal. The sight of the journal made her close her eyes and release a sigh of relief, which told him that its safe return meant a great deal to her; still a little wary of her, he cleared his throat to grab her attention. “Oh, sorry, here…” She reached into the pocket of a light brown coat, pulled out an identification puck and handed it over to him.

He activated the puck and watched as a hologram of her face flickered on, accompanied by Aurebesh writing. “Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Alliance Starfleet Pilot.” He handed back the puck and holstered his blaster. “Sorry about all that but in my line of work…”

“It’s okay, I understand.” The captain stood and headed to the armory to return the blaster and holster she’d borrowed for the mission. “You’re hardly the first person to pull a blaster on me and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

“Well, alor’ad, that was some pretty good flying…for an ex-smuggler, that is.”

Din had intended for his joking comment to put her more at ease after being held at blaster-point by a paranoid Mandalorian, but the Mando’a word had inadvertently slipped out while he spoke; it only meant ‘captain,’ but he thought that it also made for a fitting nickname. Judging by the growing smile on (Y/N)’s lips, she didn’t seem to mind at all when she retorted, “Ah, the galaxy’s age-old debate: which are the better pilots, smugglers or bounty hunters? It’s a little sad that there’s still bounty hunters out there who’ve diluted themselves into thinking they’re as good as smugglers.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head in mock outrage. “As an ex-bounty hunter myself, I take offense to that. If I had access to another ship, I’d challenge you to a race right now but fortunately for you, I don’t.”

The captain grinned. “Well, in my experience, bounty hunters are all talk and no action, so I’d say that you’re the fortunate one, not me.” She giggled as he let out an exasperated sigh, the helmet hiding the grin that their playful banter had caused; it was easy talking to her, and he found himself wondering if being personable had helped her excel as a Rebellion captain. Before he could say or do anything else, she reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out a money bag. “Three hundred New Republic credits, as promised.” Din’s smile fell as he caught the money bag in his gloved hand; he’d almost forgotten that their alliance was temporary and that she’d soon be gone since the mission was a success. The captain, with a sobering expression on her face, turned back to the open armory and continued. “I already input the coordinates to the nearest friendly planet, Batuu. We should be there in less than two hours and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

He nodded once. “Yeah…yeah, of course. I’ll, um…I’ll be in the cockpit, if you need anything.” Ascending the ladder, Din dropped down into the pilot’s seat with a deep sigh and cursed under his breath. He’d inexplicably grown attached to the strange captain in the short time that they’d known one another, or perhaps he’d just enjoyed having someone he could actually converse with on board. Either way, she was staying on Batuu and he’d continue his quest to locate the Jedi, and they’d probably never see each other again. Well, it was fun while it lasted, he thought to herself as he sat back in his seat and stared out into hyperspace, trying not to think about how much fun he’d ended up having since meeting Captain (Y/L/N).

Some time later, the child waddled into the cockpit and climbed onto one of the ship’s monitors, reaching for the silver sphere Din had returned to its lever. He chuckled a little and relented, twisting it off and placing it in the child’s tiny clawed hands while he cooed in delight. “So, what do you think of our client, huh?” His wide eyes brightened with interest and his large ears perked up, making Din smile a little beneath the helmet. “Yeah, that’s what I think of her, too…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sounds of ships coming and going from the docking bay filled the air as Din and (Y/N) carried her storage container down the extended ramp, and he took a moment to admire the peaceful planet before announcing, “Here we are: Black Spire Outpost.” They set the container down and faced one another, Din’s hands hanging awkwardly at his sides while (Y/N)’s were crossed behind her back. “I guess this is it.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah. Before I go, I…well, I wanted to give you something. It’s actually for the little guy, but I thought I’d give it to you.” She handed him a small bundle of Shaak-hide and his brow furrowed in confusion as he carefully unraveled it. “It’s a satchel, so you can carry him around with you whenever he gets too tired to walk. I used a part of one of my old coats to sew it; the little guy liked how soft it was and I wanted him to be comfortable. I noticed his pram on the ship but I thought he might like to travel in this, too.”

Touched by her gesture, Din swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up at her. “That’s…very kind of you, alor’ad. I’m sure he’ll like it.”

“I think so, too.” She smiled down at the child beside him, but it soon faded as she glanced around the bustling docking bay. “Well, I guess I’ll see you two around.”

Din and the child watched the captain adjust the strap of her bag and reach for her storage container, the child letting out a disappointed coo and Din silently agreeing with him. After wrestling with himself for a brief moment, he took a step forward and called out, “Wait.”

“Yes?” (Y/N) quickly turned around to face him with what looked to be a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

“I’ve been quested to return the child to his kind, but it’s been…challenging. Imps have put bounties on our heads and I’ve run out of leads on information to follow.” Din shrugged his armored shoulders. “You’re a hell of a pilot, alor’ad, and you’re very obviously a fighter, so…well, I could use a crew member of your abilities.”

The captain blinked in surprise. “Wait…you want me to join your crew?”

“I can pay you handsomely. It would be a completely equal partnership as well, as far as the workload goes. But I understand if you refuse; you’ve worked hard for a quiet life after the Rebellion and it would be unfair to ask you to abandon it.”

He watched as she considered his proposition, a part of him hoping that she’d turn around and walk away; he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with and his lifestyle didn’t allow for much rest and relaxation, things she wholeheartedly deserved after faithfully serving in the Rebellion against the Empire. “You see, the thing about living a quiet life is that after a while, you find yourself hoping that something’ll come along to liven it up.” A smile slowly spread across her face as she spoke. “And it looks like today’s that day. I’m in.” They shook hands and Din was suddenly grateful that his helmet hid his broad grin. “So, partner, what should I call you? I know that people usually call Mandalorians ‘Mando’ but it’s always sounded a bit like a slur to me and the last thing I wanna do is insult my new business partner, so what would you like me to call you?”

Din didn’t bother suppressing his chuckle at her amusing thoughtfulness. “You can call me ‘Mando.’ Welcome to the crew, alor’ad.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Two
The Captain

Din Djarin wasn’t exactly an impulsive man. If given the opportunity, he preferred to approach every situation with a healthy dose of caution and strategy, shying away from brash recklessness whenever he possibly could; it was once how he’d become one of the Outer Rim’s most skilled bounty hunters and how he’d recently been able to protect the child on his quest. So, when he’d asked the ex-smuggler, his client, to join his crew after only knowing her for a handful of hours, he’d surprised even himself with the spur-of-the-moment decision. He hadn’t traveled with a crew in years, not since his days as a mercenary, but what he said earlier had been correct: if he was going to successfully complete his quest to return the child to his kind, then he needed some help to do it.

But what made you choose her, Din asked himself as he curiously watched (Y/N) sew, out of all the people who’ve helped you so far, why did you ask her to stay? Maybe it was because she confused him; her demeanor was fierce yet gentle, she could pilot a ship through heavy blaster fire better than any Corellian hot-head but could also be content with quietly sewing on the floor of his ship, and her attitude was outmatched only by her thoughtfulness. But as he observed her from where he stood beside his sleeping compartment, it dawned on him that it was because deep-down, they shared something in common: loneliness.

“You know, I may not be able to see your eyes but I can feel you staring at me.” (Y/N) quipped, looking up from her work with a smile. “What is it?”

“We’ve been flying for a few hours now and since I don’t know when you last slept, I wanted to show you your bunk.” Din explained, grimacing at the half-truth; that was originally why he’d come down from the cockpit, but then the sight of the captain peacefully sewing had distracted him. He turned and pressed a button on the control panel, the compartment’s door opening as (Y/N) got up and stood beside him. “The child usually sleeps in the hammock, but he won’t disturb you; he’s a heavy sleeper.”

Instead of thanking him, (Y/N) frowned. “But isn’t this where you sleep?”

Din shrugged. “It’s fine, I’ll rest in the cockpit from now on-”

“And give yourself perpetual backaches?” She countered, her brow raised in skepticism. “I’ll make up a cot for myself out here and you can keep your bed.” Her firm expression morphed into amusement as she made her way back to her storage container and began rifling through its contents. “Besides, as far as this crew goes you’ve got the seniority; this is, after all, your ship, Captain.”

He smirked, leaning against the wall of the ship and crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s my ship but I’m no captain. You, on the other hand…”

“So what I hear you saying is that since I’m technically a captain, I outrank you even on your own ship?”

Biting back a snort of amusement at her teasing, Din shook his head and pointed a warning finger at her. “Watch it, alor’ad, I don’t tolerate insubordination in my crew.” (Y/N)’s head snapped up and her grin instantly fell, and he quickly realized that she’d taken him seriously. “No, no, I was just…! That was…that was meant to be a joke.”

Comprehension dawned on the captain’s face. “Oh…It’s a little hard to tell if you’re joking or not ‘cause of the…” She made a vague gesture over her face before clearing her throat and turning back to her storage container, obviously embarrassed by her action. Din couldn’t blame her, though, as his own face was flushed bright-red under his helmet. “But yeah, I’ll be okay sleeping out here, Mando.”

He nodded, unsure of what to say until his gaze landed on the garment she’d been working on before he interrupted. “So, is sewing a hobby of yours?”

“More like my life’s passion; my mother was a seamstress and she began teaching me her trade when I was around six.” (Y/N) smiled fondly, her earlier awkwardness long-gone; she pulled out a collapsible cot and got to her feet. “I’ve been hooked ever since. I even make my own clothes, since loose fabric is less expensive these days, but not shoes; I buy those already made.”

“What planet did you grow up on?”

The captain unfolded the cot and secured its legs before sitting down on its end. “Naboo. On that planet, fashion is considered an art form just like painting or dancing, and the mark of an accomplished seamstress is the ability to tell a story with a single piece of clothing. I left the planet when I was twelve, before I could begin an apprenticeship, and since I was so young when I left I know very little about my people’s customs and traditions.” Din nodded in understanding, knowing first-hand how difficult that sort of loss was, and (Y/N) let out a sigh. “I’m grateful for the knowledge I have, though.” She looked over at him a small smile. “Enough sad talk; we should discuss this quest of ours. You said that your information trail has gone cold?”

“Yes. I was instructed to locate other Mandalorians if I needed assistance, but there are very few of my kind and the ones who have survived live in well-hidden coverts.”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip, something Din inferred was a nervous tick of hers. “There might be someone who can help, but you’re not going to like what I tell you about him.”

He frowned under his helmet. “Who?”

“A man named Gor Koresh. He’s a notorious gambler who mostly bets on ring fights, but I’ve heard some rumors that he also collects beskar. And as far as I know, beskar these days mostly comes from-”

“Mandalorian armor.” Din growled, fists tightening in anger. “He harvests Mandalorians for their beskar. Do you know where this man is?”

Once Din gave (Y/N) a tour of the cockpit and they charted their course to Koresh’s last known location, (Y/N) took over piloting while he took the child down so the two of them could get some rest. The child, however, had other plans; he cooed and babbled, gesturing towards the ladder as Din opened the sleeping compartment.

“I know that you like the nice lady but we need to sleep, kid. She’ll still be here when we wake up.” Din gently placed the child in his hammock and sighed in exasperation when his protests only continued. “I already told you, buddy, it’s naptime.” Noticing the child pointing at something, Din turned and raised an eyebrow when he saw the satchel (Y/N) had made for them. “You want the satchel?” The child squealed in delight so Din retrieved it and carefully rolled it into a bundle before tucking it into the hammock, watching as he snuggled closer to it and closed his eyes.

I guess he really does like that bag, Din thought to himself as he climbed into the sleeping compartment. After turning off the lights and making sure the child was asleep, he took his helmet off for the first time that day; sighing in relief, he ran a hand through his flattened hair and took a moment to enjoy the feeling of the ship’s cool air on his face. As he laid there in his bunk, Din’s mind drifted to his earlier conversation with his brand-new crew member.

(Y/N) was from Naboo, which explained the Mid-Rim accent he’d detected when she was yelling at him during their first meeting, and from the way she’d spoken about her home planet, it sounded as if she’d had a difficult childhood that was similar to his. But how the hell did a Naboo seamstress become a smuggler for the Rebel Alliance, he silently wondered, and what exactly did she smuggle for them?

Taking in a final breath of unfiltered air, Din put his helmet back on and made himself as comfortable as he could, quickly falling asleep with the image of the captain’s curved smile fresh in his mind.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three
The Fights

While she initiated the ship’s landing sequence, (Y/N) took a moment to glance out the cockpit’s viewport and let out a low whistle. “Yep, just as seedy as I imagined it would be.” She looked over at the Mandalorian standing beside her with a brow raised in curiosity. “Have you been to this planet before?”

“Once, when I first started working with the Guild. It’s rougher than it looks, which is why we’re gonna bring the kid along with us.” The ship landed smoothly and he followed her down the ladder to the armory. “How do you think we should do this?”

(Y/N), who had begun fastening her blaster holster around her waist, glanced up in surprise; since their partnership was only a little over a week old, she hadn’t expected him to give her the opportunity to formulate a plan. Maybe this is some sort of a test, she silently reasoned, so he can see what I can and can’t do. Recovering from her shock, her eyes met the Mandalorian’s visor as she replied, “I go in first and scope the place out for Koresh, then you and the kid follow. That way if things get dicey, I’ll be there as backup and his goons won’t suspect that we’re working together.”

Mando nodded. “Good, that’s what I was thinking.” He tucked a vibro-knife into his boot before straightening and pointing at her blaster. “You any good with that?”

“Of course I am, I’m an ex-smuggler.” (Y/N) playfully retorted, tugging on one of her longer coats and checking to see if it covered her blaster before smiling despite herself. “It’s when I’m disarmed that I start having some problems; as evident in my altercation with the Black Sun, I’m not exactly the best at hand-to-hand combat.”

“Good thing you’ve got an ex-bounty hunter onboard to teach you, alor’ad.”

Rolling her eyes at his quip, (Y/N) reached into the open armory and tucked a vibro-blade into her own boot. She stood and accepted the comm link the Mandalorian held out to her, placing it in her ear and brushing her hair over to cover it up. “Okay, it looks like I’m good to go. Is there anything else I should know before going?”

“Yeah, stay on the main road and stick close to the street lamps.”

He didn’t elaborate on his statement, so she just nodded and made her way down the ship’s lowered ramp. Walking down the long stretch of road, it wasn’t long before she understood why Mando had issued his warning; glowing red eyes began appearing in the shadows on either side of the road, but it seemed as though the dim street lamps were the only things keeping the creatures away from her. Her blood ran cold at the thought and she quickened her pace, reaching the large building at the end of the road in no time.

A large Twi’lek stood in the doorway, his tightly arms crossed over his chest. As (Y/N) approached him, she kept her face impassive and empty of emotion. “I’m here to place some bets.”

The Twi’lek’s eyes scrutinized hers and after several tension-filled moments, he moved to the side and held his arm out towards the doorway. “Enjoy the fights.”

(Y/N) gave him a nod and she walked inside, taking in the exuberant crowd and their deafening cheers as they watched the two Gamorrean fighters at the center of the room. Weaving her way through the rowdy people, she stopped at the bar and ordered herself a glass of spotchka. “Excuse me, bartender, but where can I find Gor Koresh? I’d like to place a bet and I hear that he’s a hell of a gambler…”

The bartender handed her the glass and pointed across the room. “Over there.”

Thanking her, (Y/N) paid for her drink and moved to lean against the wall; the Abyssin was seated in the front row, quietly watching the fight along with four stoic men. They couldn’t be any more obvious, she thought to herself, downing her glass of spotchka before reaching up and activating her comm link. “Come in, Mando.”

“What’ve you got?”

Careful not to be spotted, (Y/N) relayed everything she’d gathered to her partner: a description of Koresh, the number of bodyguards stationed in the arena, and how heavily-armed each of them were. Not long after, she spotted the Mandalorian making his way through the crowd with the child’s pram floating alongside him. She had a clear view of the two of them from her spot by the wall, and she watched as he seated himself beside Koresh; they talked for several minutes until suddenly, Koresh shot down one of the Gamorrean fighters. The crowd scattered, hurrying to the exits as the one-eyed man and his bodyguards all pointed their blasters at Mando’s helmeted head.

(Y/N) ducked behind the nearby bar and pulled out her blaster, peeking around the corner as their voices filled the now-empty arena.

“Thank you for coming to me. Normally, I have to seek out remnants of you Mandalorians, in your hidden hives, to harvest your shiny shells. Beskar’s value continues to rise, and I’ve grown quite fond of it. Give it to me now or I will peel it off your corpse.”

The Mandalorian stayed completely still as he calmly retorted, “Tell me where the Mandalorians are and I’ll walk out of here without killing you.”

Koresh sneered. “I thought you said you weren’t a gambler.”

Raising an impressed brow, (Y/N) watched as Mando subtly flexed his wrist and activated what he’d called ‘whistling birds’ to start glowing. Her grip on her blaster tightened in anticipation as the child closed the lid of his pram and Mando finally spoke. “I’m not.”

In an instant, the whistling birds launched into the air and quickly found their targets; the four dead bodyguards fell to the ground as the Mandalorian kicked the child’s pram out of harm’s way and began fighting off the surviving Gamorrean and the Twi’lek from the entrance. (Y/N) raised her blaster and prepared to help him, but she became distracted by a group of guards hurrying across the arena in the direction of the child.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” (Y/N) muttered, firing off a shot and hitting one man in the neck. The remaining guards immediately aimed their blasters in her direction and began firing; she ducked back behind the bar and waited a moment before jumping to her feet and firing off three quick shots. All three remaining guards dropped to the ground, each having been shot clean through the heart, and the child’s pram remained in its place.

Climbing over the bar, (Y/N) hurried to the pram just in time to see Mando throw his vibro-blade and hit the last man standing directly in his chest. His helmet turned to her and they both looked over to see Koresh hurry through one of the arena’s exits; looking back at Mando, she watched as he pulled his vibro-blade out of the dead man’s chest and followed alongside the pram as he went through the same exit. Both she and the pram emerged onto the street just in time to watch Mando string Koresh up onto the street lamp by his ankles.

“All right, stop, stop! I’ll tell you where he is.” With her blaster still in hand, (Y/N) moved to stand beside Mando as Koresh continued to stammer in fear. “But you must both promise you won’t kill me.”

“I promise you will not die by my hand, or hers.” Mando slowly declared, and (Y/N) was quick to bite back her smirk. She wasn’t stupid; she’d observed just how much her explanation of Koresh’s business dealings had affected him, so it was fairly obvious what he was planning on doing with the one-eyed man. “Now, where is the Mandalorian you know of?”

“Tatooine!”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Mando stiffen. “What?”

“The Mando I know of is on Tatooine!”

“I’ve spent much time on Tatooine; I have never seen a Mandalorian there.”

Koresh continued to swing by the whipcord as he angrily replied, “My information is good, I tell you! The city of Mos Pelgo, I swear it by the Gotra!”

(Y/N) and Mando both looked away from Koresh at the same time; she shrugged a shoulder and holstered her blaster, wordlessly telling the Mandalorian that Koresh’s information was worth investigating. Mando nodded and glanced back at Koresh. “Tatooine it is, then.” They both began walking away from the one-eyed man.

“Wait, Mando! Lady! You can’t leave me like this, cut me down!”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.” Mando pulled out his blaster and shot out the street lamp, plunging that section of the road into darkness; he holstered the weapon and gestured for her to follow him as Koresh continued his shouts of protest; they were quickly joined by the growling of the creatures that approached him.

“Wait, what are you doing? Mando, I can pay! Mando…Mando!”

By the time that they reached the Razor Crest, Gor Koresh’s screams had faded into nothing and (Y/N) silently thanked the Maker; there was no denying that the one-eyed man had deserved his fate, but she would’ve preferred not to hear it happen. I’ve heard too many sounds of death in my relatively-short lifetime, she somberly thought as she took the child out of his pram and followed the Mandalorian up into the cockpit. He had already seated himself in the pilot’s seat, so she sat herself down on the seat to his right and held the cooing child in her lap; moments later, the ship rose from the ground and soon, they were traveling through hyperspace.

“Do you think I was wrong to leave Koresh for dead?”

(Y/N) looked up in surprise; his helmet was still facing forward, but she could see that his hands had tightened around the ship’s joysticks. “No. For what he did to countless Mandalorians, he deserved exactly what he got.”

“Then why did you look sickened when I did it?”

Mando’s modulated voice was gruff and accusatory. With a small sigh, (Y/N) ran a hand over the child’s wrinkled green head and hesitantly replied, “Because…when you’ve been through everything I’ve been through, and seen the things I’ve seen…even the dying words of an enemy can have some effect on you.”

The cockpit was silent for several long moments, until he turned the pilot’s seat around to face her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to relive any painful memories-”

“It’s okay, Mando. Like I said, he got what he deserved.” She flashed him a small smile before gesturing to the ship’s guidance system. “At least we have some sort of idea of where to go now; Tatooine should be nice and sunny this time of year, don’t you think?”

Mando chuckled at her terrible joke. “Very funny, alor’ad. Why don’t you get some rest while I watch the kid?” He reached over and took the child from her lap, and when she made no move to stand, he let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re not gonna get much sleep when we land on Tatooine, you know, so you should get it while you can…”

“That’s true.” Relenting, (Y/N) got up from her seat and muffled her reluctant yawn. “Wake me up if you need any help, okay?” He nodded, and she turned to exit the cockpit.

“You did good tonight, alor’ad.”

(Y/N) glanced back at Mando, who had already spun his seat back around to face forward, and the corners of her mouth raised into a smile at his compliment. “You too, Mando.” Giving him a final look, she turned and made her way down the ladder; she stored her weapons in the armory before kicking off her boots and crawling into her makeshift bed, quickly falling asleep. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the gentle rocking of the ship or the soothing presence the Mandalorian exuded, but (Y/N) couldn’t remember having a single nightmare.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four
The Marshal

“Sorry, gang! C’mon, you know he doesn’t like droids!”

As he walked down the ship’s extended ramp, Din couldn’t help but smirk as Peli ordered the pit droids around; after their first memorable encounter, he’d made it a point to stop by the snarky mechanic’s hangar for repairs whenever he was near Tatooine. “May as well let them have at it,” He called out, giving his run-down ship a brief glance as he walked. “The Crest needs a good once-over.”

Peli raised her arms in exasperation. “Oh, so he likes droids now! Well, you heard him; give it a once-over!” The pit droids immediately began following orders, and she turned back to Din with a smile. “I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos-” She stopped and gasped in delight when he adjusted the satchel (Y/N) had made and revealed the child. “Oh, thank the Force!”

As she grabbed the child out of the satchel and began fawning over him, Din glanced back at the ramp to see (Y/N) emerge from the ship. She’d changed into more appropriate attire for the desert planet; a sleeveless tan shirt and dark trousers tucked into a pair of sturdy boots, over which she’d draped a hooded cowl. At his request, she’d also strapped her blaster to her hip and slung one of his blaster rifles over her shoulder; even in the durable desert clothing, she still exuded an air of elegance and if he didn’t already know a little of her background, he’d wonder if she was a princess in disguise. Before she could see that he’d been staring, Din turned his attention back to Peli; he raised a brow when she jokingly offered to buy the child off of him, then broke out into an amused grin when she immediately began yelling at her droids. “Oh, you’ve got some company now. Who’s she?”

“This is (Y/N), my newest crew member.” Din replied as the captain came to a stop beside him. “(Y/N), this is Peli, the mechanic I was telling you about.”

(Y/N) smiled and offered the bemused mechanic her hand to shake. “Hello, Peli, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Well, now, look at that, someone with manners!” Peli held the child in one hand and shook (Y/N)’s with the other. “Maybe you could teach Mando here a few; the first time we met, he tried to shoot one of my droids!”

“He is a little rough around the edges, isn’t he?”

Din rolled his eyes at their mild teasing and cleared his throat. “We’re here on business and we could use your help.”

Peli nodded. “Oh, then, business you shall have.”

Din launched into their tale, explaining that in order to fulfill their quest to bring the child to his kind, they needed to chart a path through the network of Mandalorian coverts; after learning from the mechanic and her R5 unit that the city of Mos Pelgo had been razed by bandits, he made the decision that their best course of action was to take a speeder bike to the remnants of the mining settlement. Peli allowed them to borrow hers, leading them to where it was before hurrying back into the hangar to supervise the pit droids as they worked.

The two of them made quick work of loading their supplies onto the speeder, and Din carefully secured the child’s satchel to the side of the bike. He furrowed his brow when he noticed (Y/N) swing her leg over the bike and seat herself in the driver’s seat. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” She gestured for him to seat himself behind her and when he didn’t move, she raised her brow at him. “You piloted us all the way here, even when I offered to take over and let you rest. Weren’t you the one that said, ‘It would be a completely equal partnership as well, as far as the workload goes,’” she recited in a near-perfect imitation of his modulated voice. Unable to argue with her point, Din let out a sigh of exasperation before climbing onto the speeder bike behind her. “What, afraid I’m gonna crash into a bantha or something?”

“Well, smugglers have been known to do that from time to time, alor’ad.” He replied dryly, resting his gloved hands on either side of her waist as he struggled to keep his voice even; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone who wasn’t a friend or a bounty, and the realization was making it a little difficult for him to focus. “Bounty hunters haven’t, though.”

(Y/N) chuckled and slipped on her goggles. “Oh, of course they haven’t. You’d better hold on tight, Mando; an ex-bounty hunter like you might not be able to handle just how fast ex-smugglers like to go.”

As it turned out, (Y/N) really enjoyed going fast; they journeyed across the Dune Sea at breakneck speed, with the captain occasionally jumping their speeder bike over high sand dunes. Din couldn’t see her face, but he knew that if he could he’d see a broad smile stretched across it. He hadn’t known her for very long, and yet he knew that she wasn’t trying to show off or prove a point; she enjoyed the freeing feeling that came from driving a speeder bike, just as she enjoyed piloting ships through hostile situations. It looks like she’s not the only one who likes it, he thought with amusement as he glanced down to see the child’s cheerful face poking out of the satchel and his large ears fluttering in the wind; Din couldn’t deny that even he was having a little fun as well.

When the twin suns began to lower in the sky, Din spotted a Tusken camp off in the distance; raising his voice so that she’d hear him over the noise, he said, “There’s a camp coming up; we can stop to rest for the night but when we get there, follow my lead. Okay?”

“Got it!” (Y/N) yelled back, reducing their speed as they came upon the camp. “It looks like we’ve got a welcoming party…”

The speeder bike soon came to a stop and Din was the first one off; he slowly approached the nearest Tusken and raised a hand in greeting before explaining their situation using a mixture of grunts and hand gestures.

“Greetings. My friends and I would like to borrow some lodging for the night.”

The Tusken male nodded his head. “All three of you are welcome to join us at our campfire. You cannot eat before us, but your companions can; they will be generously fed and watered.”

“Thank you. What payment would you accept for such gracious hospitality?”

“Stories of your adventures, of worlds beyond Tatooine. That is all.”

Nodding, Din turned back to (Y/N); she had already secured the child’s satchel over her shoulders and was standing beside the speeder bike, her face impassive but her eyes betraying her astonishment. “We’ll stay here for the night, alor’ad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tuskens led them to a tent at the edge of their camp, leaving them alone to unpack their things as they went off to tend to their banthas and begin cooking dinner. Din watched (Y/N) while she knelt and worked to set up her bedroll, and he could tell by her silence that she was debating whether or not to say something to him; knowing how people usually reacted to the Tuskens, he assumed that it would be some sort of warning about them and was prepared to counter her when she finally spoke.

“Where did you learn how to speak Tusken?”

The question threw Din off for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“You speak Tusken, Mando! That’s such a difficult language to learn but you speak it so well; did you learn here on Tatooine?” (Y/N) asked, her face illuminated by excitement. “I’m honestly a little jealous, ‘cause all I know is a little Huttese and some droid.”

“Wait, you’re not…you’re okay with spending the night at a Tusken camp?”

The captain nodded. “I know that many people on Tatooine hold backwards ideas about Tuskens and their culture, of course, but I’ve never agreed with any of them. The situation here has always reminded me a little of Naboo; long before I was born, the Naboo and the Gungans were bitter rivals until their rulers were finally able to negotiate a lasting peace.” She smiled to herself. “When I was little, my best friend was a Gungan; if our two people hadn’t reconciled and brought about the Great Time of Peace, then I never would’ve known her. Granted, the situation here’s a little more difficult, but the solution could yield the same results.”

“Yeah…yeah, I agree. Others should learn to value cultures that aren’t their own.” Tearing his baffled gaze away from her, he knelt and began setting up his own bedroll; if there were more people in the galaxy who thought like (Y/N), he thought firmly, then we wouldn’t be in trouble all the damn time. “I learned how to speak Tusken in my Covert, from one of the older Mandalorians. I was young when I learned, and that made it easier for me to master the language; other languages, too, for that matter.”

The corner of (Y/N)’s mouth curved into a smile. “So, which language is your nickname for me? Alor’ad?”

Din watched with widened eyes as she took the child out of the satchel and set him down on the bedroll; he hadn’t meant for the word to become a nickname and he certainly hadn’t expected her to pick up on it so easily. “That’s Mando’a. It’s not an insult, in case you were wondering; alor’ad means ‘captain’ and…well, that’s what you are. Would you prefer that I not-?”

“No, no, it’s okay!” (Y/N) hastily interjected, looking over at him as her face reddened. “I, um…I like it. It’s a nice nickname.” She glanced back down at the child, who was tugging on the edge of her cowl, then up at him with a smile. “I think the little guy might be hungry; we should probably go and see what our hosts are cooking up, partner.”

They finished setting up their tent before heading over to the Tusken’s campfire, where the four of them were already sitting. Once Din and (Y/N) joined them, one of the Tuskens held out a small green object and broke it open with his gloved hands before letting out a mixture of grunts and growls. Din answered him and nodded, watching as the Tusken then handed the object to (Y/N).

“It’s water. He wants you to drink it as a sign of peace and good faith.” Nodding, (Y/N) brought the object to her lips and drank all its contents, keeping her face remarkably neutral as the liquid’s harsh odor surrounded them. The Tusken expressed his thanks and took the object back from the captain, returning his attention back to the campfire. “He thanked you, and he said that you’re now an honored friend of his clan.”

“Can you tell him that I appreciate it, please?” (Y/N) asked, her smile widening as he grunted and signed her message with his hands.

The Tuskens were indeed very generous hosts; once (Y/N) had accepted their offering, they made sure that she and the child had eaten their fill of food. Din watched with an amused smirk as the child enjoyed his portion of roasted womp rat, still baffled that such a small creature could eat so much food. While the two of them ate Din conversed with the Tuskens, telling them tales of his most recent adventures as they eagerly listened.

“And what of your friend? Where does she come from?”

“Naboo.” Din replied and gestured in her direction; beside him, (Y/N) furrowed her brow in confusion. “She’s a veteran of the Rebellion.”

The four Tuskens all grunted in excitement, and one of them leaned closer to them. “We have heard tales of The Naboo and their culture of the arts; it is rumored that their wordless songs can convey a lifetime of stories. Can your friend sing one for us?”

“I’ll ask, but she was young when she left the planet. She might not remember the songs of her ancestors.”

“You’d better not be telling them any lies about me, Mando.” (Y/N) quipped, looking over at him with inquisitive eyes. “What’re they saying?”

“They’re wondering if you could sing a traditional song of your people for them.”

The captain nodded. “Of course, just let me think of…oh, I’ve got one! Can you tell them that the song’s about friendship? I think they’ll appreciate it more if they know.” She smiled in thanks as he relayed her message, then took a deep breath. “I haven’t sung a song of Naboo in years, so here goes nothing.”

After a moment’s hesitation, (Y/N) opened her mouth and began to sing a hauntingly beautiful tune. Her clear notes filled the air, as if gliding along the desert’s slight breeze, and as he listened, Din began to inadvertently think of the friends and companions he’d made across the galaxy over the years. The rumors about the wordless songs appear to be true, he distractedly thought, his focus entirely on the captain and her song. At his feet, the child softly cooed and the Tuskens silently listened as her song continued, finally ending with a single long note that hung in the air long after she stopped singing.

(Y/N) fidgeted in her seat, obviously self-conscious by the way they all stared at her. “Um, yeah, that’s all I remember…”

The Tuskens all began loudly grunting and growling their praises, gesturing with their hands in her direction. Din glanced over at her, his smile hidden underneath his helmet. “They enjoyed it very much, and they say that your voice is a gift.” (Y/N) ducked her head in embarrassment and Din couldn’t stop himself as he blurted out, “I thought it was very beautiful.”

Although she was quick to duck her head, the captain had a difficult time hiding her wide smile from the campfire. As the evening went on and the twin suns finally set, all Din could think was that his partner’s bright smile could illuminate even the darkest desert.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, they packed up their supplies and bid their hosts goodbye, thanking them for their hospitality; Din’s heart warmed a little as he watched (Y/N) slowly but surely mimic his hand gestures in an attempt to convey her own thanks to the Tuskens, and he knew that their hosts had appreciated her thoughtfulness. How the hell did a woman like her become a Rebel smuggler, he found himself wondering again as they sped over the sands of Tatooine, thinking back to the captain’s beautiful song.

“If I was driving, then we’d already be there by now.” (Y/N) grumbled from behind him, her arms tightening slightly around his waist as she tried adjusting in her seat.

“I thought that this partnership was supposed to be equal, alor’ad.” He jokingly retorted, using her own argument against her in a way that he knew she’d be rolling her eyes at. “You drove yesterday, and I drive today. It’s only fair.”

Although the sound of the speeder bike was loud, Din could make out her huff of annoyance and he couldn’t help but chuckle. It was around midday when they finally reached Mos Pelgo, the speeder slowing to a crawl as they reached the derelict town’s main road; several people emerged from their houses and watched their progress with suspicious eyes, but Din kept his focus on the road before them. He brought the speeder bike to a halt in front of what looked to be the town’s cantina, getting off the bike and waiting for (Y/N) and the child before leading them into the cantina.

He walked over to the bar, where the Weequay bartender had stopped his task to watch his movement, and leaned against the surface as he timidly asked, “Can I help you?”

“My friend and I are looking for a Mandalorian.”

The bartender’s eyes flicked over to (Y/N) beside him before answering. “We don’t get many visitors in these parts. Can you describe him?”

“Someone who looks like me.”

“You mean the Marshal?”

Din’s brow rose in surprise; Mandalorians didn’t usually take up such prominent positions within a community. Before he had a chance to, (Y/N) skeptically asked, “Your marshal wears Mandalorian armor?”

He gestured towards the doorway as he shrugged. “See for yourself.”

Both Din and (Y/N) turned around to see a man dressed in Mandalorian armor standing in the cantina’s open doorway. The armor looked worse for wear, with large dents and scratches, and it didn’t quite fit the man as well as it should; it was clear to see, though, that it was indeed the armor of a Mandalorian.

The man slowly walked forward and came to a stop before them. “What brings you folks here?”

“We’ve been searching for you for many parsecs.”

“Well, now you two found me. Weequay,” The man moved closer to the bar and gestured to the bartender. “Three snorts of spotchka.” At the man’s words, Din felt his blood run cold; a real Mandalorian would never share a drink with another in the middle of the cantina, even if he kept his helmet on. His body tensed and he could see (Y/N) shooting him a look of confusion as she set the squirming child on the ground, but he remained silent, watching the armored man accept the jug of spotchka and three glasses. “Why don’t you two join me for a drink?”

Neither of them made a move to join the man as he set the jug and glasses on one of the tables; just as the man was sitting down, Din stepped forward to speak but stopped dead in his tracks, watching in silent outrage as the man took off his helmet and set it beside him. The man had greying hair and a weathered face partially obscured by a short beard, and his eyes were narrowed as he examined Din. “I’ve never met a real Mandalorian. Heard stories…I know you’re good at killin’.” The man shrugged and began pouring out a drink. “And probably none too happy to see me wearing this hardware.”

He’s correct on that count, Din thought angrily. After their encounter with Gor Koresh, the thought of someone stripping the armor off a dead Mandalorian and wearing it as his own made Din’s blood boil.

“I figure only one of us is walkin’ out of here.” Din didn’t answer, but he silently agreed with the man’s prediction. He watched as the man’s gaze left him and drifted over to (Y/N) with a grin that made Din’s jaw clench tightly. “But then I see the lady and the little guy and I think, maybe I pegged you wrong.” The man tore his eyes away from the captain and the child to look back at Din, wordlessly setting two glasses of spotchka at the edge of the table.

The cantina was silent until Din finally spoke. “Who are you?”

“I’m Cobb Vanth, Marshal of Mos Pelgo.” He took a sip of his spotchka, seemingly unaffected by the tension filling the room.

Din gritted his teeth. “Where did you get the armor?”

“Bought it off some Jawas.”

“Hand it over.”

Beside him, (Y/N)’s breath hitched and Din could hear her subtly rest a hand on her holstered blaster as Cobb Vanth set his glass down on the table with a chuckle. “Look, pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from but ‘round here, I’m the one who tells folks what to do.”

“Take it off, or I will.”

Cobb raised a brow. “We gonna do this in front of those two?”

(Y/N) shifted a little, her hand still on her blaster. “We’ve seen worse.” Her voice was clear and steady, and as she took several steps back to where the child was standing, her shoulder brushed against Din’s and he took small comfort in the brief contact.

“Right here, then?”

“Right here.”

With a sigh of defeat, Cobb kicked his stool back and stood, his eyes trained on Din’s helmet as their hands hovered over their blasters. Neither of them moved and Din watched with narrowed eyes as the marshal wrestled with indecision, clearly feeling a little unsure about starting a gunfight with a Mandalorian. Before either of them could make a move, the building began to shake, the tremors growing stronger with each passing second; Cobb held up a finger in Din’s direction before striding over to the cantina’s doorway, a newfound weariness in his expression.

Din followed after him, standing in the doorway as the town’s warning sirens began going off. The captain moved to stand beside him, and all three of them watched at the main street began to ripple. Something was traveling beneath the sand right through the middle of town, and judging by the intense quaking, it was enormous.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” (Y/N) muttered under her breath, bracing herself against the cantina doorway as the large mass passed them by. Just as Din opened his mouth to reply, a creature’s head emerged from the ground and, in an explosion of sand, swallowed a tethered bantha at the edge of the town whole before disappearing.

Cobb sighed before turning back to them. “Maybe we can work something out.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Five
The Dragon

When she made the decision to join the Mandalorian’s crew and help him fulfill his quest, (Y/N) knew that they’d frequently be encountering dangerous situations. However, she didn’t foresee one of them involving her and Mando having to help kill a krayt dragon to protect a settlement in the middle of the Dune Sea. Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of Mos Pelgo, had offered Mando a deal: if they helped him kill the krayt dragon, he’d give them the Mandalorian armor he’d been using for years to protect his people.

“Deal. (Y/N) can ride back to the ship and blow it out of the sand from the sky; we’ll stay and use the bantha as bait.”

Cobb looked away from Mando to shoot her an astounded smirk, to which she responded by raising a brow, daring him to challenge her piloting skills. Silently conceding, the marshal looked back at Mando with a grimace. “Not so simple. The ship passes above, it senses the vibrations and stays underground. But I know where it lives.”

“How far?”

“Not far.”

So, she and Mando had wrangled up the child before getting onto the speeder bike and following Cobb further into the desert. Sensing that the Mandalorian was still agitated about the marshal’s blatant disrespect of his people’s Creed, (Y/N) had allowed him to drive and resigned herself to sitting behind him on the bike. I suppose there’s worse ways to travel, she thought to herself with a faint blush as her arms tightened slightly around her partner’s waist, like on the back of a bantha or dewback.

“You two don’t understand what it was like,” Cobb interjected after about a half an hour of driving. “The town was on its last legs; it started after we got news of the Death Star blowin’ up…the second one, that is.” (Y/N) smiled to herself, a little pleased that someone else had realized just how idiotic the Empire had been to build two of those things, then turned her attention back to the marshal’s tale. “The Empire was blown out of Tatooine and there was blaster fire over Mos Eisley; the occupation was over. We didn’t even have time to celebrate. That very night, the mining collective moved in; power hates a vacuum and Mos Pelgo became a slave camp overnight…”

(Y/N) listened as the marshal detailed his escape from Mos Pelgo, how he’d stolen a camtono of silicax crystals and wandered the desert for days until being rescued by the Jawas. She felt Mando’s body stiffen as Cobb explained that he’d traded the crystals for the Mandalorian armor and returned to the town, ridding it of its enslavers and establishing himself as its marshal. Based on what he’d told them, (Y/N) decided that he was an honorable man just doing everything to keep his people safe; however, she knew that the silent Mandalorian sitting in front of her would take more time to win over.

That’s what Cobb Vanth must’ve thought as well; once he’d finished his story, he turned his attention to her instead of Mando. “So, what’s your story? How’d a smuggler end up workin’ with a Mandalorian?”

“How’d you know-?”

“Livin’ on Tatooine, I’ve met my fair share of hot-shot pilots.” His mouth stretched into a lopsided grin. “None as pretty as you, though.”

Feeling her face warm at his flirtatious tone, (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, Mando here asked me to join his crew after seeing my piloting skills firsthand. And I’m actually a former smuggler; I worked for the Rebellion but I retired from that life just after the New Republic was established.”

The two speeder bikes had just reached a rocky canyon and they reduced their speed in the narrowing ravine. It was then that Cobb glanced over at her with a raised brow. “I didn’t know they had smugglers workin’ in the Rebellion. What’d you smuggle for ‘em?”

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, acutely aware that there was more than one person waiting to hear her reply. “I, um-”

Cobb signaled for them to halt right when a loud growling noise began echoing through the canyon; both speeder bikes came to a stop and all three took cover behind them as they drew their weapons. Not knowing what to expect, (Y/N) pulled the blaster rifle off her back and propped it up alongside Mando’s pulse rifle on the top of their speeder, furrowing her brow when the howling grew louder. Moments later, a massiff emerged from behind an outcropping of rock and was soon joined by several others. Instead of firing, Mando lowered his pulse rifle and let out a familiar-sounding growl of his own before walking around the bike and towards the creatures.

“What the hell’s he doin’?” Cobb whispered loudly, his look of surprise growing when (Y/N) got up from her crouch and slung her rifle back onto her shoulders. “What the-?”

She and Mando both raised a hand to calm the marshal down, and (Y/N) watched with an impressed smile as her partner knelt down and began petting the now-happy massiff. I guess Mando’s got a way with pets, she thought to herself, her smile widening when she noticed several Tuskens emerge from behind the rocks. (Y/N) had enjoyed sharing camp with the Tuskens the night before; they’d been pleasant hosts, and she’d truly loved learning more about their culture while teaching them a little of her own.

(Y/N) glanced over at Cobb while Mando conversed with the Tuskens, her smile faltering a little as she took in his hardened expression; and when Mando informed them that the Tuskens also wanted to kill the krayt dragon, a feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of her stomach.

As night was beginning to fall, the Tuskens led the three of them to their settlement and allowed them to stay in two of their tents. (Y/N) thanked them for their hospitality using the hand gestures she’d picked up from Mando, pleased that she was still able to remember them but before she could make her way over to the Tusken’s campfire, Mando stopped her.

“Word travels fast on the Dune Sea; they already know about your peaceful encounter with the other clan of Tuskens yesterday. It’s Vanth who needs to earn their trust tonight.” Mando explained, his voice becoming a little gruffer when he mentioned the marshal’s name before quietly continuing. “Why don’t you and the child get some rest, alor’ad? I know it’s early but we’ll be traveling to the lair at first light and you’ll need your strength if you’re gonna help us kill a krayt dragon…”

(Y/N) relented, taking the child from Mando and crouching into their tent as she stifled tired yawns behind her hand; settling down in her bedroll, she drifted in and out of sleep, glancing over where the child was soundly sleeping every once in a while to see if he was all right. The little guy must be growing on you, she thought with a small smile, closing her eyes and rolling over to face the tent entrance.

A sudden sound caused (Y/N)’s eyes to snap open and in an instant, her blaster was in her hand and pointed directly at the Mandalorian’s head; realizing it was only her partner, she lowered her blaster with widened eyes. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mando, I thought that-!”

“It’s okay, you shouldn’t apologize for having a quick reflex.” Mando replied, entering the tent and sitting down on top of his bedroll. “It’s good that you’re up; the Tuskens are going to take us to the lair tomorrow, but they’re insisting we travel in a small number and only scout the area. Will you be all right staying here with the kid while we go?”

She smiled, tucking her blaster back under her pillow. “Sure, that sounds okay. I guess that means you’ll be traveling with Vanth by yourself, huh?”

Nodding, Mando glanced over at the sleeping child before looking back at her. “I don’t trust him. He picked a fight with the Tuskens earlier, and he was asking a lot of questions about your Rebellion days.”

“Well, he was born and raised on Tatooine; he’s probably been told all his life that the Tuskens are the monsters. And as for the questions…well, most people don’t know that the Rebels recruited smugglers to their cause and then once they learn, they always assume that I was only working with the Alliance for monetary reasons. But I don’t mind.” Shrugging, (Y/N) laid back down on her bedroll, resting her hands on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling of the tent. “Better to let them assume than to re-open any old wounds by explaining. Does that make any sense?”

The Mandalorian was silent for a moment and when he answered, his voice sounded softer than usual. “Yeah…yeah, it does.”

“So, um, what’s the story with the little guy?” (Y/N) asked, eager to change the subject but also curious about the child’s background. “When you say we’re returning him to his kind, do you mean his species or maybe his family…?”

She heard Mando lay down on his own bedroll. “The child is…special. He has many abilities, and he belongs with a race of sorcerers called Jedi.”

“Jedi?” (Y/N)’s sleepy eyes widened and she rolled over to look at the Mandalorian. “I thought that they were just myths!”

“You’ve heard of the Jedi before?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about them when I was a child on Naboo, but I didn’t…” She trailed off, feeling his gaze from behind the visor of his helmet. “I always thought they were fairytales.”

Mando nodded eagerly. “Do you remember anything about your mother’s stories? Anything at all?”

“All I remember is that the Jedi were supposed to have been the guardians of the peace but if that were true, then the Empire never would’ve happened.” (Y/N) snorted, laying back down and frowning a little as she sensed her partner’s disappointment. “That doesn’t really help us, though.”

“Well, it’s one thing I didn’t know before, so I’d say it was a little helpful.” The Mandalorian offered. “We should get some rest; we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, it quickly became apparent that they were in for more than what they’d originally bargained for. (Y/N) stayed at the Tusken settlement with the child while Mando, Cobb and a handful of Tuskens traveled by bantha the short distance to the krayt dragon’s lair. To pass the time, she’d mended some of their clothing and cleaned her borrowed blaster rifle, knowing that she would soon be needing it.

When the others returned, Mando explained their plan to recruit the villagers of Mos Pelgo to aid in the attack against the creature before they headed back to the town. (Y/N) hadn’t said anything out loud, but she was wary of their new plan; it essentially hinged on the ability of two warring peoples to set aside their differences in order to defeat a common enemy, and while (Y/N) had no problem working alongside the Tuskens, she knew that the villagers would have a very different opinion than her. Now I definitely have a bad feeling about all this, she thought as she parked the speeder alongside Cobb’s in front of the cantina.

“They attacked us less than a year ago, killed half a dozen of us by the mining camp. I’d say I took down about twice as many Tuskens.” Cobb got up from his speeder, a fresh look of guilt on his face.

“The town respects you.” Mando pointed out as (Y/N) hopped off their speeder and dusted off her clothes. “My guess is they’ll listen to reason.”

(Y/N) nodded and offered the marshal a brief smile. “If the Tuskens are willing to put the past aside, then I don’t see why your people can’t find it within themselves to do the same.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

A doubtful-looking Cobb quickly gathered the town into the cantina and it went about as well as she’d feared it would; after explaining the entire situation to the villagers they reluctantly agreed to the deal the Tuskens had offered, that in exchange for their help and the carcass of the creature, they would unite with them in battle and never attack Mos Pelgo until a villager breaks the peace. Tension filled the air as the Tuskens arrived to help with the preparations and it went fairly quickly, save for one brief moment of unrest between a Tusken and a villager. But in no time, they were slowly on their way to the krayt dragon’s lair with the villagers and explosives in tow.

With the suns high in the sky, (Y/N) stood between Mando and Cobb as they carefully watched a lone Tusken make his way to the large cave entrance and place his hands on the ground before it; after several terse moments, the Tusken straightened and signed a message with his hands.

“What did he say?” (Y/N) quietly asked, the hand holding the blaster rifle’s strap tightening with anticipation.

“He says it’s sleeping. If we listen carefully, we can hear it breathing.”

(Y/N) glanced over at Cobb beside her, shrugging and watching as another Tusken offered him a familiar-looking green object; she gave the marshal an expectant smile that widened when he lifted the object and drank the sour liquid, finally accepting the Tusken’s gesture of peace and good faith.

After receiving their instructions from the Mandalorian, they got to work as quietly as they could. (Y/N) removed her cowl before grabbing a shovel and helping the others dig the shallow hole that they’d bury the explosives in; the muscles in her arms were aching in protest by the time the hole was finished, but she hid her pain as she walked up to Mando and Cobb with a smile.

“Ready when you are, fellas.”

Mando nodded and moved forward to watch the Tuskens approach the mouth of the cave, leaving Cobb to walk alongside her as he flashed her a lopsided grin. “How ‘bout a kiss for luck from a pretty lady?”

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes and raised a brow in amusement at his flirting attempt. “How about we focus on killing a krayt dragon and not dying instead, Marshal?”

“Worth a shot.” Cobb shrugged as they stood alongside Mando on the rocky ridge overlooking the villagers and Tuskens. They watched as three Tuskens slowly made their way to the cave and stopped, hesitating a brief moment before loudly calling out; their grunts and growls echoed throughout the rocky canyon and just as they had begun to fade, the growling of a large creature called back. All three Tuskens turned and ran, and the krayt dragon burst out of the cave in an explosion of sand; its roar shook the ground, and (Y/N)’s jaw nearly dropped when she realized just how massive the creature was.

Beside her, Mando pulled out his scope and all three of them watched the Tuskens and the villagers enact their plan; they fired the harpoons they’d built to pull the creature from its cave, but it quickly became clear that it wasn’t working when the krayt dragon reared its head back and tried tugging itself loose from its captors. “Dank farrik, it’s going back in; it’s retreating.”

Cobb gripped the detonator in his hand, his thumb hovering over the button. “I’m gonna hit it.”

“No, wait. We only have one shot; we’ve gotta get it out.”

Following the others lead, (Y/N) slung the blaster rifle off her shoulder and quickly aimed before firing at the creature, her precise shots joining the blaster bolts and small explosives hitting its thick hide. Their actions enraged the krayt dragon, which charged forward and forced the others to run for cover.

“Now?” Cobb asked, his jaw tightening as he watched his village continue its assault on the creature.

Mando shook his head. “Not yet. It’s gotta come out further.”

But as he spoke, the krayt dragon finally pulled itself free of the harpoons with a deafening roar, throwing Tuskens high into the air before opening its mouth and spewing acid onto a group of retreating Tuskens and villagers.

Both Mando and Cobb stiffened at the sight, and (Y/N) heard herself breathe out, “Oh, Maker.”

The creature continued forward after its attackers, and Mando held up a tense hand. “Almost, almost…now!”

The marshal’s thumb smashed down on the button and the explosives went off, sending a massive cloud of dust up with a blast of air as the creature roared and vanished from view. (Y/N) lowered her blaster to shield her face from the sand-filled wind, looking up as the dust began to settle and frowning when she noticed the empty patch of ground.

“I don’t think it’s dead.”

“Me either.”

(Y/N) merely bit her lip and watched as the Tuskens and villagers looked around in confusion, an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, the krayt dragon exploded out of the rocky ridge high above the entrance of the cave with an ear-splitting growl and began spewing more acid onto the panicked crowd below.

Cobb’s face twisted in fury. “It’s pickin’ us off like womp rats.” He suddenly turned and grabbed his blaster rifle off his speeder. “Let’s get after it!”

Mando turned to look at her and she nodded, already knowing exactly what the two of them had in mind; he hurried over and grabbed his pulse rifle, rushing back to her and wrapping his free arm tightly around her waist. He barely gave her enough time to latch onto him before activating his jetpack and shooting up into the air, flying fast towards where the creature was emerging from the rocks. Yeah, I think I prefer flying in an actual ship, (Y/N) barely had time to think, landing roughly beside Mando and Cobb on the side of the ridge and immediately joining them as they fired their weapons at the side of the creature’s head.

“This ain’t doin’ a thing!”

“Yeah, I have to agree with the marshal on this one!” (Y/N) yelled, watching as their shots bounced off its thick hide.

Reloading his pulse rifle, Mando loudly replied, “Just keep shooting!”

The three of them continued firing their weapons and after a few moments, the krayt dragon seemed to finally notice their presence; it let out another roar and moved its head towards them, but the Mandalorian grabbed her around the waist again and they flew out of the way just as it bit down on the rocky ridge. They flew down to the ground in front of the cave entrance and spun around, their weapons at the ready, but the creature had disappeared once again.

“Dank farrik…” (Y/N) murmured under her breath, her grip on her blaster rifle tightening as she waited for the krayt dragon to re-emerge; she didn’t have very long to wait. They quickly turned as the creature appeared from the sand dunes behind them and lunged forward, narrowly missing a cluster of escaping Tuskens and villagers.

“There he is.” Mando spoke under his breath, his modulated voice steady despite the dire situation. He glanced past (Y/N) to Cobb with a nod. “I’ve got an idea. Get it’s attention.”

Without hesitation, the marshal leaned forward and activated the missile strapped to his back; it hit the creature with a fiery explosion, causing it to shriek in anger and change its course, charging through the sand in their direction. “I got its attention! Now what?”

“You still have that detonator?”

Cobb unclipped it from his belt and reached past (Y/N) to hand it over. “Take it!”

“Wait, what’s the plan, Mando?” (Y/N) frowned, trying in vain to piece together what her partner was planning on doing.

Mando turned his head to look at her. “You’re gonna take care of the child.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know but wish me luck!” Before (Y/N) could realize what was happening, Mando pushed her into Cobb’s arms and as she instinctively brought her arms up around the marshal’s shoulders, he slammed the butt of his pulse rifle into his jetpack and they shot high up into the air. Clutching tightly to Cobb as they zigzagged through the sky, (Y/N) had just enough time to glance over and see the krayt dragon swallow Mando and a bantha whole before they landed hard on the ground.

Quickly sitting up, (Y/N) stared at the spot the Mandalorian had been with her jaw dropped in horror. She couldn’t move or speak and beside her, Cobb ripped off his helmet to reveal an equally-stunned face; before either of them could say anything, the ground began to rumble beneath them once again. (Y/N) grabbed her blaster rifle just as the krayt dragon re-emerged from the ground, its jaw widening to release a mighty roar, but just as she was preparing to fire on it, a familiar beskar-clad figure flew out of its mouth and was followed by the electric-blue shockwaves of a pulse rifle.

“That son of a mud-scuffer…” (Y/N) breathed out, watching through her rifle’s scope in amazement as the Mandalorian pressed down on the detonator and set off the explosives within the creature. With one last ear-splitting scream, the krayt dragon collapsed to the ground in a cloud of sand and dust, finally defeated.

She and Cobb shielded their faces as a strong gust of wind blasted them, looking up in time to watch Mando land on the ground in front of the creature’s carcass. (Y/N) glanced over at the marshal and they shared a disbelieving grin, clambering to their feet while the cheers of Tuskens and villagers filled the air.

(Y/N)’s leg twinged in protest when she stood but she ignored the pain as she and Cobb hurried over to where Mando stood; his armor was dripping with the creature’s green stomach acid and his chest was heaving with labored breaths, but to her he looked incredible.

“You’ve gotta be the craziest kriffing man I’ve ever met!” (Y/N) exclaimed, looking over her partner for any serious signs of injury and grinning when he merely shrugged his shoulders. “Keep pulling stunts like that and you might just change my low opinion of ex-bounty hunters.”

Mando chuckled between breaths, the sound causing her heart to warm in her chest. “I’ll keep that in mind, alor’ad.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Six
The Medic

After helping the Tuskens and the villagers gather up their weapons and supplies, Din and (Y/N) began preparing their speeder bike for the trip back to Mos Eisley. The Tuskens had gifted them a large chunk of the creature’s meat and while they continued harvesting the rest of its carcass, he and the captain wrestled the heavy meat onto the back of the bike; the child watched them work with widened eyes, and Din grinned in amusement when he realized how eager he was to eat it.

Din glanced up from their work as Cobb walked up to them, the Mandalorian armor packaged up in his arms. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to explain.”

“No need.” The marshal placed the bundle of armor onto the seat of the speeder before handing him the helmet, a smile of respect on his weathered face. “This was well-earned.”

“It was my pleasure.” He spoke truthfully, shaking Cobb’s outstretched hand; through their adventure together, he’d grown to admire the marshal and considered it an honor to have fought by his side. Well, mostly admire, he thought to himself, recalling how the charming man had flirted so easily with his partner.

Letting go of his hand, Cobb turned to (Y/N) with a lopsided grin. “Well, if you ever get tired of hangin’ ‘round this fella, princess, you know where to find me.”

Din felt a sudden surge of jealousy. The captain didn’t appear to be romantically interested in the ruggedly-handsome Marshal of Mos Pelgo, but it didn’t stop Din from envying the man for the effortless way he made her smile.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, but…” (Y/N) looked over at Din with a glimmer of admiration in her eyes that nearly made him blush. “I think I’m right where I’m meant to be.”

Cobb shrugged good-naturedly and shook her hand. “Princess, you sure are somethin’.” He winked at her before looking between her and Din. “Well, this was fun. I hope our paths cross again, you two.”

“As do I.”

The marshal turned to walk away but halted, gesturing over to the Mandalorian armor with a smirk. “Oh, and tell your people I wasn’t the one that broke that.”

Once Cobb made his way over to where his villagers stood, Din glanced over at (Y/N) as she wrapped her cowl around her shoulders. “Feel up to driving, alor’ad?”

“I always am.” With a grin, she pulled on her goggles and secured the child in his satchel before carefully climbing onto the packed speeder bike. “Ready to go, partner?”

With a nod, Din seated himself behind her and placed his hands on either side of her waist as she revved the speeder’s engine and shot forward, starting out back across the Dune Sea with the twin suns high above them. They had originally planned on traveling the entire way back to Mos Eisley without stopping but as the suns began to set, Din reconsidered the plan; his body was aching all over and he knew that (Y/N)’s leg was injured, so he ultimately decided that their best course of action was to camp out for the night and travel at first light.

The captain readily agreed to his new plan and stopped the speeder bike near a small outcropping of rocks, keeping an eye on the child as Din set up their camp. He watched the two of them out of the corner of his eye while he worked, biting back an amused chuckle whenever he caught a snippet of (Y/N)’s words; she spoke to the child as if he were an adult, perhaps because she wasn’t used to dealing with small children, but it was entertaining to listen to her partake in an almost one-sided conversation with the babbling child.

“How’s your leg?” Din asked later on that evening, after they’d put the child to sleep in his satchel; he and (Y/N) were sitting beside the campfire and he noticed that she’d been absentmindedly rubbing her calf as they talked. “I saw you limping back there.”

“Oh, yeah, I think I might’ve landed on it weird when Vanth and I fell out of the sky.” She stretched out her right leg and flexed it, trying and failing to mask her wince of pain behind a smile. “It feels…okay.”

Giving his head a small shake, Din gestured to her leg with a gloved hand. “May I?” With a small sigh of defeat, she nodded and leaned back on her elbows as he carefully rolled up her trouser leg. He could tell even through his helmet’s visor that the captain’s calf muscle was cramped, the theory only confirmed when he hovered a hand over the bulge and felt the slight warmth radiating off of it through the leather of his glove. “Yep, your muscle cramped up, probably due to the shock of the impact. There’s not much a person can do to speed up its healing, unfortunately, but…” He cleared his throat, his hands beginning to sweat nervously underneath his gloves. “But I can make it feel a little better…”

 “O-okay. Thank you, Mando.” Her kind smile faltered a bit once he tentatively began rubbing his thumbs down on the spot. “I guess I should add ‘medic’ to your ever-growing list of impressive skills, right alongside ‘Tusken Translator’ and ‘Diplomat.’” Din scoffed and she lightly kicked his armored thigh with her other foot. “I’m serious! The way you got those two groups to set aside their differences and work together was amazing, Mando, and you should be proud of yourself.”

Din felt his face warm at (Y/N)’s praise, and he was thankful that she couldn’t see just how flustered her words made him; feeling overwhelmed, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You know, there’s no Mando’a word for ‘diplomat;’ ‘translator’ is miit’amyc and ‘medic’ is baar’ur, but there’s no word in that language that directly translates ‘diplomat.’ The closest would be naak, which means ‘peace.’” He looked up from his work to meet (Y/N)’s stunned expression, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze. “I’m rambling, sorry-”

“No, no, it’s okay! You’re actually doing a great job at distracting me from the pain, baar’ur,” She joked, biting back a wince as he continued massaging the muscle. “How do you say ‘bounty hunter’ in Mando’a?”

“Beroya.”

“What about ‘smuggler’?”

He paused for a moment. “Mir'sheb.”

(Y/N) smiled. “So, you’re a beroya and I’m a mir’sheb.” At her statement Din burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer and she merely raised a confused brow. “What, did I pronounce it wrong?”

“Mir’sheb...mir’sheb means ‘smart-ass’...”

His chuckles continued as she threw him a withering glare and the corners of her lips curled into a reluctant grin. “Just for that, I’m gonna find a language you don’t know and learn to speak it just so I can call you names all the time.”

Their laughter died down and they sat in comfortable silence as Din massaged her cramped muscle. With one particularly hard rub, (Y/N)’s eyes squeezed shut in pain, she blurted out, “It’s kinda silly, isn’t it? You purposefully get swallowed by a kriffing krayt dragon yet I’m the one with the stupid injury.”

Din frowned in guilt, remembering the expression on the captain’s face when he’d flown out of the creature’s mouth; it had been an equal mixture of shock and anger, the latter nearly disguised by her trademark grin. “I’m sorry, alor’ad.”

“It’s okay, it’s already feeling a little bit better-”

“That’s not what I was talking about.” He interrupted. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my plan; we’re partners now, and I didn’t treat you as my partner back there.”

Blinking her eyes open, (Y/N) looked at him with a patient expression on her face. “I understand, Mando, there wasn’t enough time. I was…I was just worried about you, that’s all.” Din stopped massaging the muscle and she gave her leg an experimental flex. “Oh, that feels great! Did you want to take first watch or should I?”

“I will,” He quickly answered, averting his gaze as she bent over to roll down her trouser leg. “You get some rest.”

(Y/N) bid him goodnight and crawled into the bedroll beside the child, her breathing evening out as she quickly fell asleep. Once Din was sure that the captain was unconscious, he began taking off pieces of his armor and tending to his many injuries; since they were only darkening bruises, he couldn’t really do anything except examine them and check for any broken skin before strapping his armor back on over them. He finished his work quickly, wincing in pain as he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders.

“Dinner time.” Din mumbled under his breath, reaching over and grabbing a ration pack from his bag. He made swift work of opening it up, since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, and just as he was about to lift the bottom of his helmet up over his mouth, he hesitated; glancing over at his partner and the child, he made the split-second decision of removing the entire helmet.

As the cool desert breeze blew over his warm skin, Din’s eyes widened in shock at his own recklessness, but his shock was soon replaced by wonder when his gaze drifted back to the captain. With his own eyes he was finally able to admire all those features he’d noticed the moment he met her, taking note of the softness of her skin and the way the corner of her lip curved up while she slept; the breeze had blown some of her hair onto her face and for the briefest of seconds, he’d been tempted to reach over and brush it behind her ear. Kandosii’la. But common sense finally returned and he gave his head a small shake before quickly eating his food and securing his helmet back on, purposefully looking anywhere but her as he continued his watch.

It wasn’t just (Y/N)’s beauty that had taken him aback that evening. Din wasn’t used to having someone around who worried for his safety; when she’d wished him luck before their first mission together, he figured she was only being polite, but now he knew that she genuinely cared about his well-being. Cobb Vanth was right back there, Din thought to himself as his face flushed, his partner really was something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Din allowed (Y/N) to drive the speeder bike, partly because his body was still sore from the previous day’s excitement and partly because he secretly enjoyed the feel of his gloved hands on the curve of her waist. As they sped across the Dune Sea, thoughts of their quest intruded on his mind and he inwardly sighed; they hadn’t found a Mandalorian on Tatooine, which meant that they were virtually back at square one.

Preoccupied with planning their next move, Din didn’t spot the trip wire until it was too late; they were instantly ejected off the speeder, the child crying out in shock as they flew through the air. Din twisted in midair, hastily bringing a hand up to his vambrace and igniting his jetpack so that he could land on his feet. He stumbled backwards and dodged the burning speeder as it flew past him and crashed onto the sand in the distance, turning to see where (Y/N) and the child had landed just as blaster bolts hit his shoulder and helmet. Grunting, Din stumbled back some more and heard a gruff voice call out, “Get the child!”

Another shot hit his shoulder and he quickly realized that he was being cornered by four figures, pulling out his blaster to shoot one of them but missing his mark when another attacker slammed down on his weapon with a sword. He dropped the blaster but was quick to defend himself, managing to disarm his attacker and hit him in the head; two attackers pinned him up against the rocks and he couldn’t do much but hold his arms up to defend against their blows until he spotted the fourth attacker beginning to aim a rifle blaster at him. He quickly fired his grappling hook and watched as it wrapped around the weapon, tugging it hard and ducking down to let the weapon hit both his attackers in the heads. They fell to the ground and he stood but froze when he saw that the fourth attacker was holding the child in one arm and a knife in the other.

“Wait!” Din held his hands up, his heart clenching as he took in the child’s widened eyes. “Don’t hurt the child. If you put one mark on him there’s no place you’ll be able to hide from me.” The attacker didn’t move, but he was suddenly aware of a familiar presence nearby; to distract the attacker, he gestured towards the speeder wreck in the distance. “We can strike a bargain. There’s a lot of value in this wreckage; take your pick. But leave him.”

The attacker suddenly gestured towards Din’s left with his knife, speaking angrily in his unknown language and pointing it back at the child in his arms. He turned his head a little to watch (Y/N) reluctantly lower her blaster and toss it off to the side, looking back at the attacker and sighing when he realized just what the attacker wanted.

“Okay.” Din slowly reached behind him and detached his jetpack, taking a step forward and placing it gently on the ground before backing away. “Here, it’s yours. Take it. It’s okay.” He heard (Y/N) make a sound of protest and he held a hand out to quiet her as the attacker set the child down; he grabbed the jetpack and immediately ran off with it, but all of Din’s attention was on the child as he hobbled towards him with a distressed cry; he bent down and picked the child up, examining him for any injuries. “You okay?” The child cooed and looked over at (Y/N) as she hurried over and Din turned his attention to the fleeing attacker; bringing his hand up to his vambrace, he launched the jetpack high up in the air and all three of them watched as the attacker plummeted to the ground.

The child let out a snort of amusement in his arms and Din could hear the smile in (Y/N)’s voice when she quipped, “I guess the rumors were true: ex-bounty hunters really do have a flair for dramatics.”

“Says the woman who’s from Naboo, probably the most theatrical planet in the galaxy.” Din joked, his eyes still on the jetpack as he piloted it to land on the ground before them. His smirk faded when he looked over at (Y/N), finally taking note of her split lip and bruised neck. “Dank farrik, what happened to you?”

“I got in the way of a Nikto and his target.” She winced a little as she tried and failed to grin. “He was going after you while you were dealing with that first guy and I tried stopping him, but…well, I told you that I wasn’t the greatest at hand-to-hand combat.”

“Then that settles it; I’ll start training you as soon as we get into hyperspace.” Din vowed, his heart clenching as the captain nodded and shot him a grateful look. “Looks like we’re gonna have to walk the rest of the way to Mos Eisley, though…”

After fashioning a makeshift yolk out of scraps and a small argument with (Y/N) about sharing the load, they began their long walk out of the Dune Sea; Din was carrying the Mandalorian armor and the krayt dragon meat, and (Y/N) had slung the child’s satchel over her shoulders and was carrying the rest of their supplies in an improvised backpack. Theirs was a completely equal partnership, she’d reminded him with a brow raised in challenge, leaving no room for further argument.

While Din admired her strength and determination, he also worried about her slight limp and the injuries she’d sustained in their skirmish with the bandits so to distract himself from their current situation, he began asking (Y/N) questions about herself. He kept their conversation light, asking about her favorite things and listening to her answers with interest; she was fairly easy to talk to, unlike most people he came across, and it was almost a little strange just how closely she listened to him talk about his own life. And he knew that it wasn’t because she was feigning interest; she seemed to genuinely care about what he had to say, and that was something he wasn’t really used to seeing in another person.

“Have you ever tried uj’alayi?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No, what’s that?”

“It’s a kind of cake, made with ground nuts, syrup and spices. It was my favorite food as a kid, and my…my mother would bake it once every month.” Din smiled a little at the memory before glancing over at the captain. “Don’t they have sweets on Naboo?”

“Yeah, but they’re really rich and filling; they definitely aren’t as tasty as how uj’alayi sounds.” They walked up a sandy dune and stopped at the top. Din was silently relieved when the city of Mos Eisley finally came into view, although a part of him wished their conversation could’ve gone on longer; I’m gonna find her some uj’alayi at the next market we visit, he silently vowed to himself as she exclaimed, “Maker, I’ve never been so happy to see a Tatooine city in all my life!”

“Really? As an ex-smuggler, I thought you’d love visiting shady dive-planets like Tatooine…”

“I’m gonna kick your ass for that…just as soon as I learn how to.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven
The Passenger

(Y/N), Mando and the child finally reached Mos Eisley just as dusk was settling over the desert planet. At her partner’s urging, (Y/N) took the child to the Razor Crest and cleaned herself up while he went into the local cantina to find his mechanic friend, Peli; she hadn’t even tried arguing with him, too exhausted from the day’s hectic events. On board the ship, she cleaned herself up as best she could and changed clothes, trading in her desert ensemble for a white long-sleeved top, dark trousers and her shortened Shaak-skinned coat; she fastened her blaster holster back around her waist and tugged on a fresh pair of black boots before making her way back down the ship’s ramp.

The Mandalorian, who’d been watching as one of Peli’s droids roasted the chunk of krayt dragon meat before an old pod racer thruster, turned to her as she approached. “Peli might’ve found us a lead on some more Mandalorians but we won’t know for sure until she gets back.”

“That’s great!” She exclaimed, elated that their adventures on Tatooine hadn’t concluded in a dead end; glancing over at the roasting meat, she smiled in amusement when she noticed the child watching the meat with hunger in his eyes. “I guess somebody’s a little hungry, aren’t they?” The child babbled in response but didn’t take his wide eyes off the rotating meat. She looked back over at Mando beside her. “I can watch the little guy while you get cleaned up a bit.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

(Y/N) sighed a little at her partner’s reply. “Mando, you – and I mean this in the nicest possible way – smell like the stomach of a dead krayt dragon. I’ll keep an eye on the kid and make sure no one goes near the ship, okay?”

With her convincing, Mando finally trudged into the ship to wash up and clean his armor and (Y/N) couldn’t help but silently curse his stubbornness as she watched over the child and the meat. It didn’t take very long for her to hear Peli noisily enter the hangar, shouting out, “Hey, don’t overcook it, Treadwell, I like it medium-rare! I’m not some Rodian, for crying out loud. Oh, hey there, (Y/N)!” The eccentric mechanic looked past her shoulder and let out a low whistle. “Well, doesn’t he clean up nice…!”

(Y/N) glanced over to see the Mandalorian walking down the ship’s ramp, his newly-cleaned armor gleaming in the firelight; he came to a stop before her and rested his hands on his hips before tilting his helmet to the side, and she hoped with all her might that he didn’t notice her staring. “Well? Do I pass your inspection now?”

She pretended to think it over for a moment. “Hmm…I suppose so, mir'sheb.”

“I’m gonna regret playing that trick on you, aren’t I?”

Shrugging, (Y/N) smiled up at her exasperated partner. “What can I say? Ex-smugglers excel at holding grudges.”

“If you two’re done flirting, I’ve got some info for you.” They quickly looked over at Peli’s amused smirk and (Y/N) felt her face grow warm. “All right, here’s the deal. A Mandalorian covert is close; it’s in this sector, one system trailing.”

“Are they the ones that left Nevarro?”

“Don’t know,” Peli shrugged. “All I know is that the contact will lead you to them.”

Mando nodded. “How much will it cost us?”

The mechanic’s smile widened. “Well, that’s the great news! It’s free, aside from a finder’s fee, of course.”

(Y/N) glanced over at Mando as he heaved a small sigh. “What’s the not-great news?”

“Nothing, it’s all great.”

“Okay,” Mando replied, turning towards (Y/N) and gesturing to the ship. “Go ahead and prep the ship for take-off; I’ll be there soon to help chart our course and-”

“However…there is one small skank in the scud pie.”

They both looked back at Peli and (Y/N) raised a curious brow. “Which is?”

“The contact wants passage to the system.”

That doesn’t sound like much of a problem, she thought to herself as Mando asked, “Do you vouch for them?”

Peli nodded with enthusiasm. “On my life.”

Mando looked over at (Y/N), as if asking for her opinion, and she shrugged a shoulder. “Fine.”

“And…no hyperdrive.”

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped and Mando’s modulated voice was incredulous as he spoke. “You want us to travel sublight? Deal’s off.”

“It’s one sector over…”

“Moving fast’s the only thing keeping the three of us safe!”

Peli looked exasperated as she stared down the irate Mandalorian, her arms tightly crossed over her chest. “These are mitigating circumstances.”

“What do you mean, mitigating?”

Just as (Y/N) was about to speak up, a Frog woman walked into the hangar; she was dressed simply and she was carrying something on her back that took (Y/N) a few moments to recognize but once she did, she immediately understood their situation; she’d met several Frogs as a smuggler during the Rebellion, and she knew that the continuing of their family lines was near-sacred to them. Her heart warmed in her chest at the sight of the hopeful mother and she knew that they had to take her with them.

Her partner, however, seemed to feel differently; lowering his voice, Mando grumbled to Peli, “I’m not a taxi service.”

“I hear you, Mandalorian, but I can vouch for her.”

The Frog woman stopped beside Peli and spoke out in an odd croaking language, one that (Y/N) had never been able to learn and one that she suspected Mando didn’t know either. His hands were still on his hips as he reluctantly asked, “What’s the cargo?”

Peli and the Frog woman shared a brief exchange before the mechanic glanced back at Mando. “It’s her spawn. She needs her eggs fertilized by the equinox or her line will end. If you jump into hyperspace, they’ll die. She said her husband has settled on the estuary moon on Trask in the system of the gas giant Kol Iben.”

“She said all that?”

(Y/N) shot her partner an exasperated glare as Peli shrugged her shoulders. “I paraphrased.”

Mando let out another sigh before glancing over at (Y/N), who merely offered him a small smile. “It’s only one sector over, Mando. If we run into any trouble, I’m sure I can get us out of it quick; that’s why you hired me, after all.”

He looked back at Peli. “Is she sure there are Mandalorians there?”

“She said her husband has seen them.”

Her partner’s shoulders sagged in defeat and (Y/N) lightly patted his arm. “I’ll prep the ship for take-off and get our guest comfortable.” She gestured for the Frog woman to follow her onto the ship and gave her a friendly smile as they walked. “I’m not sure if you understand me, but welcome aboard the Razor Crest.”

They stowed the Frog woman’s container of eggs in the cargo hold before climbing into the cockpit; while their passenger made herself comfortable in the seat to the right of the pilot’s chair, (Y/N) flicked switches and pressed buttons as she prepared them for their journey to Trask. Once she knew that Mando and the child were on board, she piloted the ship up out of the hangar and into the darkened sky; her partner entered the cockpit just as the ship was leaving the upper atmosphere, coming to stand behind (Y/N) while she worked.

“Now, I’m gonna ask that you stay strapped in whenever you’re seated; traveling sublight’s a bit…dicey these days.” Mando sighed a little and (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at his dramatics. “Whether it’s pirates or war lords, someone either ends up with a large chunk of change or your ship.”

Flipping another switch, (Y/N) turned in her seat to give the Frog woman another reassuring smile. “But you don’t have to worry about any of that, ma’am. It’ll be a smooth journey to Trask and you’ll be seeing your husband in no time.”

The Frog woman let out a series of croaks and squeaks, and (Y/N)’s smile faltered a little as she glanced up at an equally-confused Mando. He shrugged and shook his helmeted head at their passenger. “We don’t speak whatever language that is. You speak…Huttese?” He paused a moment before speaking a sentence of butchered Huttese. The Frog woman only stared back at them and Mando heaved another sigh. “I’m gonna hit the rack. Did you set the nav for our course yet, alor’ad?”

“Yep.” (Y/N) replied, pressing a button off to her side and listening as the Mandalorian left the cockpit, noisily making his way down the ladder. She let out a small exhale through her nose, relieved to be away from her partner’s inexplicably aggravated demeanor, before spinning the pilot’s seat around and standing up. “It’s gonna take a little while for us to reach Trask, ma’am, so I recommend you get some rest.” The Frog woman nodded and (Y/N) made herself comfortable in the second passenger’s seat, strapping herself in before folding her hands over her stomach and closing her eyes. Normally, she would’ve gone down and taken a nap on her cot, but she didn’t want to abandon their passenger the same way that Mando had. I’m sure his bad attitude will be gone by the morning, (Y/N) thought to herself before soon falling asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) abruptly woke up to the sound of the Razor Crest’s alarm blaring throughout the cockpit; still half-asleep, she tried getting up but was quickly stopped by the seat’s restraints. Just as she reached for the buckle that would free her, the door to the cockpit slid open and the Mandalorian hurried inside; he sat down in the pilot’s seat and pressed several buttons to shut off the alarm just as a voice spoke out from the ship’s communication radio.

“Razor Crest, M1-11. Come in, Razor Crest, do you copy?”

Glancing over, she spotted the two X-Wings flying up on either side of them and exhaled in relief. Just a standard New Republic check-in, she thought to herself, grateful that it hadn’t been pirates or war lords. Her relief quickly vanished, however, when Mando finally spoke. “This is Razor Crest. Is there a problem?” Although his words were polite, his tone had a hardened edge to it that made (Y/N)’s stomach clench nervously.

“We noticed your transponder’s not emitting.”

“Yes, I’m pre-Empire surplus; I’m not required to run a beacon.”

“That was before. This sector is under New Republic jurisdiction, and all craft are required to run a beacon.”

Mando paused for a moment. “Thank you for letting me know, I’ll get right on it.”

“Not a problem. Safe travels.”

“…May the Force be with you.”

If she weren’t so on-edge by the Mandalorian’s odd attitude, (Y/N) would’ve rolled her eyes at his awkward farewell. “And also with you.” The cockpit fell silent and just as she opened her mouth to question her partner, the voice came through the communication radio once again. “Just one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna need you to send us a ping. We’re out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts.”

“I’ll let you know if I see any.” Mando replied dryly and she clenched her fists in frustration; couldn’t he see that the X-Wings would leave them alone just as soon as he cooperated and turned on the beacon?

The X-Wing pilot sounded as unimpressed as (Y/N) felt as he continued. “I’m still gonna need you to send us that ping.”

She watched as Mando pretended to fiddle around with the different controls near him. “Well, I’m not sure I have that hardware online.”

“…We can wait.”

Not wanting to wake the still-sleeping Frog woman, (Y/N) leaned forward and quietly hissed, “Just turn on the damn beacon, Mando.”

Her partner waved an impatient hand at her as he shook his helmeted head. “Yeah, I…it doesn’t seem to be working.”

“That’s too bad. If we can’t confirm you’re not Imperial, you’re gonna have to follow us to the outpost on Adelphi. They’ll run your tabs.”

“Seriously, Mando, just do what they say.” (Y/N) murmured, her frown deepening the longer the interaction continued. “They’re New Republic, definitely no threat to us.”

He reached forward with a reluctant hand and hovered it over a switch. “Oh, wait…there it is.” He flipped the switch. “Transmitting now.” The small noise the transmission caused woke the Frog woman and she immediately began croaking as Mando hissed, “Be quiet!”

“What’s that?”

(Y/N) reached over and gave their passenger a reassuring pat on the arm, listening in on Mando while he stammered out a weak excuse. “Um, nothing! The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold.”

The silence in the cabin was deafening, punctuated only by the voice of the X-Wing pilot. “Carson, can you switch over to channel two?”

“Copy.”

“Mando, what the kriff’s going on? Why…?”

Her demanding inquiry died in her throat when she saw the X-Wings shift into attack mode. “Was your craft in the proximity of New Republic Correctional Transport, Bothan Five?”

(Y/N) felt her jaw drop at the ranger’s accusatory question but before she could say anything, Mando roughly jerked the ship’s controls and sped off towards the nearby planet. The Frog woman let out a strangled scream as the ship jarringly entered the planet’s upper atmosphere and struggled to stabilize herself, and (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from angrily shouting out, “When you brought me on, you didn’t think to mention that you were wanted by the New Republic?!”

“It slipped my mind!” Mando shouted back, speeding around the planet’s enormous clouds as the X-Wings gave chase.

“Razor Crest, stand down. We will fire, I repeat, we will fire.”

“Mando, you need to stop; the ship’s not gonna last long in this atmosphere!” She glanced over at one of the ship’s computer monitors and was alarmed to see it giving off a warning blink; instead of listening to her, Mando jerked the controls again and skidded the ship around a large cloud as the ship’s mechanisms creaked in protest. “Let me talk to them, they might listen to a former Rebel-”

She was cut off by her own scream as the Mandalorian steered the ship into a freefall through the cloudy sky. The Frog woman’s terrified scream mingled with her own, and even Mando was beginning to breathe heavily through his helmet’s modulator. “Pull up, pull up, pull up!” Mando finally pulled up as the ship left the cloud bank, hurriedly piloting the ship into an enormous icy trench, to which (Y/N) slapped a hand onto her forehead. “A trench, Mando?! That’s your escape plan?! These guys are infamous for flying in trenches-!”

“Hey, the backseat flying’s not helping!” Mando barked out, narrowly avoiding slamming the ship into the side of the trench as he rapidly turned a corner. “Just hold on!”

The ship’s right engine hit the side of the icy trench, and that’s when (Y/N) had enough; lunging forward, she slammed her hand down on the ship’s communication radio and shouted out, “This is Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of the Alliance Starfleet, disengage! We-!” She was suddenly knocked back down into her seat as the belly of the ship hit an icy plateau and skidded out of control. Glancing up, she watched as Mando engaged the thrusters and steered them to a sudden stop at the mouth of a wide cave.

Before (Y/N) could begin shouting at her partner, she suddenly remembered the fourth passenger on the ship. “Dank farrik, the kid!” She scrambled to her feet and was climbing down the ship’s ladder when the ship began to violently shudder and before she could finish descending, the ship went into a sudden freefall before slamming down onto the ground, throwing her across the cargo hold along with all their storage containers. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was a sharp pain at the back of her head and a biting cold breeze.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight
The Ship

Jolting awake, Din pushed himself off the ship’s dashboard and groaned; the last thing he remembered before being knocked unconscious was the ship falling through the ice that he’d landed on. He was still disoriented when he glanced down at his armor and noticed the thin layer of frost coating the beskar. He reached up and flipped several switches but before he could determine just how much damage the ship had sustained, a small whimper behind him made him quickly turn around; the Frog woman was curled up on the floor of the cockpit, violently shivering as her arms wrapped around herself to generate warmth. He knelt down and helped her back into her seat as she began to quickly croak at him and gesture towards the cockpit door. Her eggs, he suddenly remembered, they were in the cargo hold when we crashed…

“I’ll find your eggs, don’t worry,” Din promised her. “Gotta get you some blankets, keep you warm…” He hurried out the cockpit doors and jumped down into the cargo hold; there was a gaping hole in the side of the hull, through which snow and freezing-cold air was blowing, and different wires and cables hung limp from the ceiling. Storage containers were strewn across the whole floor, all covered in frost, and he found himself muttering a quiet “Damn it.”

It was then that he remembered the child and his partner, and he hurriedly opened his sleeping compartment only to see the child’s hammock empty. Fear clenched at his heart as he turned back to the cluttered floor. “Kid? (Y/N)?” The Frog woman’s frantic croaking echoed down and Din called up, “Hang on, I’m looking for your eggs!” He carefully began stepping through the mess and, after hearing a small noise, bent down and threw a tarp to the side to reveal the child, an egg in his hands as he stood before the open container. “No!” He quickly closed the lid and picked up the container of eggs to examine it. It was the second time he’d caught the child eating eggs, and he was worried that the passenger would eventually notice their absences. “I told you not to do that.” The Frog woman spoke out to him again and he answered. “Found them!”

“M-Mando?”

Eyes widening, Din set the container down inside the sleeping compartment and locked it before hurrying over to where the captain’s weak voice had come from. “Dank farrik!”

(Y/N) was at the end of the cargo hold, hidden behind a storage container with her left arm pinned underneath another one, and her lips were nearly blue from the cold. “I tried…I tried moving it, but-”

“It’s okay, alor’ad, I’ve got it.” Careful not to jostle her arm, he lifted the container and set it down behind him, his heart dropping in his chest when he realized that her shoulder was bent at an unnatural angle and that she was shivering uncontrollably. “Osik…I’m gonna help you up now, okay? I need to push that shoulder back into its socket as quick as possible and I’ve gotta get you warm…” He leaned down and wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her stand before walking her over to another storage container. “Just sit here for a second, I’m gonna bring the Frog lady down here…”

Once he helped the Frog woman down the ladder and returned her eggs to her, he handed her a blanket and hurriedly fastened another over the hole in the hull in an attempt to begin warming the space. Then, he fixed (Y/N)’s dislocated shoulder and used the spare bandages from the med pack to bind her arm into a makeshift sling; she stifled her cry of pain behind her free hand and squeezed her eyes shut, but not before Din spotted the tears in her eyes. He knew first-hand how painful that kind of injury could be, so he didn’t judge his partner for what others would perceive as weakness. Once he was finished tending to her wound, he carefully wrapped a blanket around her and went to dig his spare heater out of the wreckage, turning it on and urging his companions to sit near it as he prepared a little dinner for them. (Y/N) quietly accepted her tray of food, her smile polite but her eyes betraying her anger towards him; suppressing a sigh of frustration, he turned away from her to glance at the Frog woman.

“If you hadn’t guessed, we’re in a tight spot; the main power drive’s not responding and the hull has lost its integrity. I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls, and I’ll have a better idea of our prospects at that time.” He lowered himself onto the floor and leaned against the wall, making himself as comfortable as he could given the circumstances. The Frog woman began croaking urgently at him, gesturing to eggs while she did, and Din hopelessly answered, “I’m sorry, lady, I don’t understand Frog. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.” He looked over at (Y/N), who was picking half-heartedly at her tray of food, and continued. “I recommend you both get some sleep.”

The captain didn’t acknowledge his words but when he crossed his arms and glanced back down, he noticed the child waddle his way over and cuddle against his side beneath his cape. Well, at least there’s one person who’s not angry with me, Din thought dejectedly to himself; (Y/N) was right, he shouldn’t have run from the New Republic rangers, but he’d panicked. He didn’t want to put any of them in danger, but that’s exactly what had happened anyway.

Before he fell asleep, Din watched as (Y/N) quietly set down her food and stood, removing the blanket from around her shoulders and placing it on top of the Frog woman’s eggs before settling down on the floor opposite him and wrapping her uninjured arm around herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up, Mandalorian.”

Din quickly jolted awake as the all-too familiar voice rang through the cargo hold, his blaster in his hand before he could fully register what he was looking at. Zero, the droid pilot from the prison breakout job, was still in pieces and secured to the wall of the ship, but a wire was now attached to its head and its opposite end was being held by the Frog woman; when she croaked again, Zero’s voice emitted from the head. “This cannot wait until morning. Do not be alarmed, I bypassed the droid’s security protocols and accessed its vocabulator.”

As (Y/N) and the child began to stir, Din holstered his blaster with more force than necessary. “What the hell are you doing? That droid is a killer.”

“These eggs are the last brood of my life cycle.” The Frog woman explained, resting a hand on her egg container sitting beside her. “My husband has risked his life to carve out an existence for us on the only planet that is hospitable to our species. We fought too hard and suffered too much to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line. I must demand that you hold true to the deal that you agreed to.”

“Look, lady, the deal is off,” He growled in frustration, gesturing at the wreckage around them. “We’re lucky if we get off this frozen tomb with our lives!”

The Frog woman was unperturbed. “I thought honoring one’s word was a part of the Mandalorian code. I guess those are just stories for children.”

Across from him, (Y/N) visibly flinched at her words and the child looked up at him with near-pleading eyes; Din finally capitulated, easing the child off his lap before clambering to his feet, grabbing his toolkit and storming outside to assess the ship’s damages. The ship was in a bad shape but as he continued to examine it, he determined that it could thankfully still fly, albeit with a fair amount of patches and repairs. He was busy rewiring some of the broken cables near the engine when (Y/N) slowly approached him, a look of apprehension on her face as she knelt on the snow beside him.

“It’s, um…it looks a lot worse than it is. If the repairs go well, we can be out of here as soon as tomorrow.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Good, good. I…well, on the off-chance that we don’t, I just…I wanted to apologize for using your Creed against you when we first met.” His brow rose in surprise at her words; out of all the things he’d been expecting her to say, that certainly hadn’t been one of them. “It wasn’t fair of me to throw it in your face to get what I wanted, and I’m sorry.”

Din was at a loss for words; almost from the moment he swore the Creed, people had ridiculed his way of life and would often try using it against him to gain an upper hand on him. It had bothered him at first but he’d eventually grown used to the jabs and insults, learning to ignore or shrug them off. (Y/N) was the first person he’d ever met who bothered to apologize to him for her words.

Seeing her begin to rise, he shook himself out of his astonishment and grabbed her wrist to halt her; she looked at him with widened eyes, and he cleared his throat before speaking. “Thank you. I’m sorry as well. I shouldn’t have run from those rangers, and I apologize for not listening to your warnings.” His partner’s usual cheery smile brightened her face at his words and Din blushed beneath his helmet, quickly turning back towards the ship and gesturing at hole in the hull. “You should get some rest, alor’ad. Your shoulder-”

“Feels perfectly fine, Mando. I can still help you with…” She trailed off, looking past him and furrowing her brow in confusion. “I think the little guy’s trying to tell us something.”

Looking in the same direction she was, Din’s eyes fell on the child, who was babbling and pointing at something on the other side of the ship. With a sigh of exasperation, he called over to him. “How about you come over here and give us a hand? Make yourself useful.” Instead of waddling over to them, the child walked behind the ship and out of sight. “Hey, kid!” He exchanged a look with (Y/N) and they both got to their feet, hurrying off after him. “I said, hey! Where are you going?”

“Come back here, little guy!” (Y/N) added; they turned the corner and made their way over to where the child had stopped.

Din knelt down beside him, instantly noticing the fresh footsteps in the snow. “When did she go?” According to his helmet’s thermal scan, it hadn’t been that long. With a small sigh, he picked up the child and stood. “It’s not safe for her to be out there alone. C’mon, let’s go.”

They slowly made their way through the icy caverns, careful not to make too much noise as they followed the Frog woman’s footsteps. Beside him, (Y/N) had drawn her blaster and was holding it in her good hand while Din kept a tight hold on the curious child in the crook of his arm. They turned a corner and found themselves standing within a massive cave; icicles the size of mudhorns hung from the ceiling and strange-looking objects rested all along the snow.

The familiar sounds of croaking caught Din’s attention and he looked over to see the Frog woman sitting in a glowing hot spring, with all her eggs floating at the top of the steaming water. “There you are,” He exhaled in relief, hurrying over to the hot spring with (Y/N) close behind him. “You can’t leave the ship, it’s not safe out here.” He set the child down at the edge of the water and knelt. “Let’s gather these up…”

Their passenger made a sound of protest as he began carefully putting her eggs back in her container; while he worked, he noticed (Y/N) sit down by the edge of the spring and give the Frog woman a sympathetic smile. “I know that it’s cold, but night’s coming fast and we can’t protect you out here; in the morning, Mando and I are gonna start working on repairs and we’ll be off this planet in no time. When we get back to the ship, I’ll look through my clothes for anything that’ll keep you and your eggs warm, okay?”

Because of the stunt she’d pulled earlier with the decapitated droid, Din knew that the Frog woman had understood the captain’s soothing words and with a nod of her head, she began helping him gather up the floating eggs. He glanced over at (Y/N) and couldn’t help but take note of how the faint glow from the hot spring illuminated her features; without thinking, he blurted out, “You’re good at that. Talking to people, I mean, making them feel comfortable. I just usually tend to scare them off and-No! No.” Din scolded the child, who’d taken advantage of his distraction and tried reaching for an egg. The child, looking a little more than miffed, walked away and he continued placing eggs into the container.

“Well, you haven’t managed to scare me off.” (Y/N) remarked, the corner of her mouth curving into a teasing smile. “You must be slipping, Mando; I thought that bounty hunters, even former ones, were supposed to terrify everybody they come across.”

Just as Din was about to indulge in their usual playful banter, the child’s cry echoed throughout the cave and his head whipped around in alarm; the child was running as fast as he could towards them, fear evident in his large eyes, and it didn’t take long for Din to realize why. The strange-looking objects that were strewn across the snow were beginning to shudder and hatch, and pale spiders of differing sizes began to emerge.

Quickly standing, he hurried over to where the child was and picked him up before backing away from the hatching creatures. His eyes widened in panic as more and more eggs began to break open, covering the floor of the cave with an ever-growing crowd of spiders. While he closed the lid of the egg container and slung it over his shoulder, the Frog woman hastily threw on her clothes and (Y/N) ushered her out of the hot spring; an echoing growl made the three of them look up and Din’s jaw dropped when an enormous spider, easily the size of his ship, crawled out of a deeper part of the cave.

“Go, go, go! Back to the ship!”

All three of them sprinted out of the cave and into the maze of icy tunnels, closely pursued by the swarm of spiders. While they ran, (Y/N) aimed her blaster and began shooting at the spiders behind them and Din, seeing spiders beginning to appear in front of them, drew his blaster and fired. A tunnel beside them was quickly blocked off when the massive spider shot a web at its entrance, so they quickly hurried down another; the Frog woman leapt past both Din and (Y/N), who were forced to holster their blasters so they could run faster from the advancing spiders. Although he couldn’t see it, he could hear the largest spider pursuing them from above, the impact of its legs shaking the frozen ceiling of the tunnel. A sharp cracking noise above alerted him to danger and his free hand shot out to haul the Frog woman back just as the spider’s long leg broke through the ceiling and was pulled up.

“Take her and get back to the ship, I’ll buy you some time!” Din yelled to (Y/N) as they ran.

The captain frantically shook her head. “No, I’m not leaving you behind!”

Thinking fast, Din pulled out three bombs and threw two of them on either side of the tunnel, then threw the third at the ceiling where the largest spider was. The bombs exploded, causing the tunnel to cave in on itself and he turned to watch the creature’s lifeless body crash to the ground before running after (Y/N) and the Frog woman. His partner had drawn her blaster again and was shooting at anything that moved; Din quickly did the same but once it became apparent that there were too many spiders to shoot and kill, he holstered his blaster and pushed (Y/N) and the Frog woman behind him before igniting the flamethrower on his vambrace.

White-hot flames shot out towards the swarm of spiders and instantly burned them to a crisp, but as the three of them continued to run, even more of the creatures began pursuing them. The broken-down ship finally came into view as he and (Y/N) continued firing their blasters at the spiders, and Din silently prayed that they’d be able to get the ship into the air in time to escape the swarm.

“Cover me!”

(Y/N) continued shooting spider after spider while Din turned and handed both the child and the egg container over to the Frog woman; he’d just ushered their passenger into the ship when the captain let out a cry of alarm, and he turned to see that her good arm had been webbed to the side of the ship. A smaller spider leapt towards them and on instinct, Din caught it in his fist and crushed it before throwing it aside; seeing the spiders inching closer to them, he helped (Y/N) wrench her arm free before pushing her into the ship and following after her. He continued blasting at the spiders as they followed them into the ship, scrambling up the ladder and shooting at the creatures as they emerged from the hole.

Seeing that his efforts were useless, Din stepped into the cockpit and tried closing its doors but the influx of spiders kept them from closing all the way. Desperate, he began shooting at the spiders through the crack in the door and (Y/N) quickly did the same, firing at the spiders that were lower down. The child’s fearful cry rang out over the sounds of their blasters firing and Din looked over just in time to see the Frog woman shoot at several small spiders that had been attacking him with a small blaster; their gazes met and he hurriedly nodded in thanks before turning and using his flamethrower to take care of the rest of the creatures. The door finally closed, but the danger hadn’t yet passed; the spiders had begun crawling over the outside of the ship.

“Strap yourselves in!” Din dropped down into the pilot’s seat, pressing buttons and flipping several switches; his hands flew over the various controls as he prepared the ship for take-off, and they were soon joined by (Y/N)’s good hand. They shared a brief glance before resuming their work, and he muttered under his breath to her, “This better work.”

“From your mouth to the Maker’s ears,” The captain replied, reaching over him to press a final button and letting out a sigh of relief as the ship shuddered to life. “We’re good to go!”

“I’ve got limited visibility, so it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.” He called out as they both pulled on the ship’s main lever; after a long moment, the engines began firing and the ship began to slowly rise. It continued to rise and as spiders began dropping off of it, (Y/N) glanced over at him with a hopeful grin that he couldn’t help but match underneath his helmet.

Their happiness was, predictably, short-lived. Something large and heavy landed on the top of the ship, slamming it back down into the ground; the force of the crash sent (Y/N) toppling onto his lap and while she struggled to right herself, Din watched through the ship’s viewport as the enormous spider he’d assumed had died prepared to pierce its leg into the cockpit. Quick as a flash, he wrapped his arms around his partner and pulled her closer to him just as its leg slammed into the space where her head had just been. Another leg slammed into the cockpit before being pulled out; all four of them watched in dread as the massive creature peered at them through the viewport. Somewhere behind him, the child whimpered in fear and he felt (Y/N) tense in his lap as the spider suddenly latched its mouth onto the viewport above them.

Its attack was stopped by an onslaught of blaster bolts and moments later, part of the spider’s carcass slid off the front of the ship. The sounds of blasters firing continued, illuminating the cockpit with red-tinted flashes; with her eyes widened in shock, (Y/N) turned to him and shakily asked, “Who the hell could that be?”

“I don’t know, but let’s find out.” He loosened his hold on the captain and let her stand before getting up; he made sure that the Frog woman and the child were unharmed before drawing his blaster and cautiously making his way down into the cargo hold. The entire space was covered in sticky spider webs and spider carcasses, and he was quick to shoot at one that was still crawling; with a brief glance at (Y/N), the two of them raised their blasters and slowly emerged from the ship to see their saviors.

“Son of a mud-scuffer, you’ve gotta be kidding me…” Din breathed out, watching as the two New Republic rangers sat atop their X-Wings and expertly shot down spider after spider that was still on the ship.

They soon stopped and watched as the two of them stepped forward, and the man on the right called out, “We ran the tabs on the Razor Crest. You have an arrest warrant for the abduction of Prisoner X-Six-Nine-Eleven.” Din kept his eyes on the two rangers but he could sense that (Y/N) was shooting him a look. “However, onboard security records show that you apprehended three priority culprits from the Wanted Register. Security records also show that you put your own life in harm’s way to protect that of Lieutenant Davan from the New Republic Correctional Corps. Is that true?”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Technically, you should be, but these are trying times.” The man glanced over at (Y/N), who had already holstered her blaster. “We also ran the credentials that you gave us, Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of the Alliance Starfleet. According to your service record, you saved the lives of thousands of civilians during your years of service to the Rebellion; the New Republic owes you a great debt of gratitude.”

Clearing her throat, (Y/N) replied, “Thank you, Ranger.”

“Let’s say I forgo the bounties on those three criminals…” Din interjected, realizing that his partner was uncomfortable talking about her service record. “Can you two help me fuse my hull so I can get off this frozen rock?”

“Let’s say you fix that transponder, and we don’t vaporize that antique the next time we patrol the Rim?”

Fair enough, Din thought to himself as they watched the two X-Wings take off. They made their way back into the ship, where the Frog woman and the child were waiting for them. “All right, we’re gonna repair the cockpit enough for us to limp to Trask. There’s nothing I can do about the main hull’s integrity, so we’re gonna have to get cozy in the cockpit.” His words brought back the memory of (Y/N) sitting in his lap and he was thankful that his helmet could mask his growing blush. “It’s the only thing I can pressurize. If you need to use the privy, do it now. It’s gonna be a long ride.”

With (Y/N)’s aid, the repairs were quickly completed and he said another silent prayer as he sat down in the pilot’s seat; the Frog woman was already strapped into her seat, her canister of eggs resting in her lap. (Y/N) dropped down into her own seat with an exhausted sigh and rested her feet on her storage container; since they couldn’t fix the main hull’s integrity, she insisted on moving her things into the cockpit to keep them safe.

“Okay, the repairs are all done,” Din informed the Frog woman, holding the child in his lap as he pressed the final buttons. “Let’s see if we can get this thing going once and for all.” He slowly pulled on the ship’s main lever and the ship shook itself to life; they continued to rise and in no time, they were leaving the frozen planet’s upper atmosphere. He breathed out a sigh of relief before turning to look at (Y/N). “Wake me up if someone shoots us, or if that door gets sucked off its rails.”

(Y/N) bit back a smile at his bad joke, but the sounds of the Frog woman’s concerned croak made the captain quickly look over at her and shake her head. “It’s okay, ma’am, that’s not gonna happen…”

“I’m kidding. If that happened we’d all be dead,” He continued, watching in amusement as the captain threw him an exasperated look and continued to reassure their passenger. “Sweet dreams.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine
The Heiress

(Y/N) was woken from her deep sleep when the child nestled in her good arm began to squirm; she blinked her eyes open and yawned, still exhausted from the previous day’s events. I feel like I’ve been trampled by a Blurgg, she thought to herself as the tentatively rolled her injured shoulder and contorted her face in pain.

They’d have to restock their empty med pack while on Trask but before she could think to remind the Mandalorian, he called out, “Looks like we made it. Get ready for landing, everybody.” He smacked one of the side control panels. “Dank farrik!”

“Landing array’s not responding?” (Y/N) asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

Mando nodded as he worked. “Without the guidance system, it’ll be a manual re-entry. It might get choppy.”

“You’ve done this before?” He didn’t answer, but his silence told her everything she needed to know. “Well, that makes two of us…”

“Once we’re through the atmosphere, there should be enough fuel to slow us down…if we don’t burn to a crisp.”

“It’s okay, he’s just joking again.” (Y/N) smiled at the Frog woman as her grip on her egg container tightened but when she looked away, she murmured under her breath, “I hope.”

The ship lurched forward as it began its rapid descent onto Trask; their speed accelerated and (Y/N) watched with widened eyes as the outside of the ship burst into flames. Mando slapped his hand over a switch to turn off a warning alarm before shouting over his shoulder, “Come up here, (Y/N), I need your hand!” She jumped up and carefully set the cooing child onto her seat before hurrying to his side. “The ship’s main lever needs to stay back, can you do that?”

“I’m on it!” Using her good hand, (Y/N) pulled the lever back and held it tightly, jaw clenching as beads of sweat began to form on her forehead.

The port quickly came into view just as a voice called out through the ship’s communication radio. “Razor Crest, this is Trask flight control. Please reduce your speed to port protocol.”

“I’m trying my best here!” Mando growled out, one hand letting go of the joysticks to flip another switch. “Engage reverse thrusters…brace!” She planted her feet just as he pulled down another lever, causing the ship to shudder with the effort of slowing down. Behind them, the Frog woman shrieked in fright and the child giggled in excitement. “Hold on…” The voice emitting from the communication radio continued to speak, but (Y/N) ignored them as she concentrated on keeping the main lever steady. “Almost there…almost there…” As the ship neared the port, their speed finally began to slow and with a large jolt, it halted into a hover right above the landing dock. “Here we go, nice and easy.”

The ship lowered foot by foot and with a breathless laugh, (Y/N) glanced down at her partner. “That wasn’t so bad-”

The ship’s right engine blew out and sent their ship crashing sideways into the water beside the landing dock. Before (Y/N) could slam into the side of the cockpit, an arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her back, the movement causing her to topple backwards and land once-again in the lap of the Mandalorian.

“Dank farrik!” Mando swore, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the others. “Kid, Lady, are you okay?” The Frog woman let out a weary sort of croak and the child squealed in delight from his seat; (Y/N)’s amused smile faltered a little when he looked over at her, his helmet tilted a little in concern as he spoke. “You okay, alor’ad?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I…” (Y/N) trailed off, losing her train of thought as she came to the realization that Mando’s arms were still secured around her and that her face was only inches away from the visor of his helmet. It could’ve just been her overactive imagination, but she could swear that his eyes were boring directly into hers and she briefly wondered what color they were before stammering out, “My, um…my shoulder, though…”

“We’ll restock our supplies while we’re here, get you an e-bacta shot,” Mando reassured her, and (Y/N)’s heart beat faster; the longer she’d been traveling with the Mandalorian, the more she’d realized how much she enjoyed listening to his low gravelly voice. “We should, um…we should probably head out now…”

Hastily apologizing, (Y/N) got off his lap and after gathering up their things, they waited for the harbor crane to lift them out of the water before making their way down to the landing dock. While Mando negotiated with a Mon Calamari over repairs, she winced under her breath when she got a good look at the Razor Crest. I hope all the horror stories about these guys and their repairs turn out to be wrong, she silently thought, remembering how her fellow Rebellion smugglers had cautioned her against seeking ship repairs from them when she first joined up.

(Y/N) glanced away from the derelict ship and watched as in the distance, the Frog woman ran towards who she could only assume was her husband. Her gaze met the Mandalorian’s visor and she beamed, happy that they’d successfully reunited their passenger and her eggs with her husband; they both made their way over to where the Frog woman and Frog man were kneeling and admiring the eggs in the container.

The child, who was floating beside them in his pram, let out a small coo and when (Y/N) looked down at him, she noticed that his brow looked more wrinkled than before. “You all right, little guy?”

Cooing again, the child stared up at them with wide eyes and Mando nodded. “I know you’re hungry. We’ll get you something to eat.” The Frog man got to his feet and clasped Mando’s hand in thanks as he let out a series of deep croaks. “You’re welcome.” (Y/N) shook hands with the Frog man next and smiled kindly at him, trying not to think about how caring and sincere her partner’s voice had sounded. “We were told you could lead us to others of my kind.” The Frog man nodded and pointed over at a building at the other end of the dock. “The inn, over there?”

The Frogs were preparing to lead them to the inn when (Y/N) noticed Mando looking off in the opposite direction, his shoulders noticeably tense. “Mando, you okay?”

He turned back to her and nodded. “Yeah, of course. C’mon, we shouldn’t keep them waiting…”

“You go ahead, I’ll walk down to the market and pick up some supplies.” Her partner paused a moment before reluctantly agreeing, and she leaned down and ran a hand across the child’s wrinkled green forehead. “I’ll see you soon, little guy. Have a good lunch!”

(Y/N) watched the small group disappear into the crowd before making her way to the nearby market; she purchased some medical supplies for their med pack and stopped in a deserted alleyway to administer an e-bacta shot to her shoulder, grinning in relief as she removed her arm from its sling and felt no pain. She then stocked up on ration packs and was about to make her way back to the inn when the aisle of clothing stalls caught her eye; checking her money pouch, she smiled and approached the first stall, intending on buying some fabric to sew the child a new set of robes.

While she was examining the different fabrics the Mon Calamari vendor was selling, her eyes fell on a large folded bundle of golden-yellow chiffon; the gorgeous fabric was embroidered with miniscule flowers and vines, and it instantly reminded her of the garden her mother had back on Naboo. Looking up at the vendor with a friendly smile, she asked, “Excuse me, how much for this fabric?”

“Twenty Flan.”

(Y/N)’s smile fell; she only had three Calamari Flan left and she knew that the vendor wouldn’t accept New Republic credits so with a heavy heart, she set the bundle down and pointed to a smaller bundle of tan fabric. “How much for that?”

“Two Flan.”

She paid for the fabric and tucked it carefully into her bag before taking one last look of longing at the beautiful chiffon. Maybe one day, you’ll be able to afford something like and finally make something your mother would be proud of, she thought with a sigh, turning and nearly running face-first into the Mandalorian’s chest plate. “Oh! I didn’t see you there, Mando. Did you find out where the Mandalorian covert’s located?”

He nodded. “A Quarren fisherman’s offered us passage on his boat, and I told him we’d be there in ten.” She watched as he looked over her shoulder towards the stall she’d just left. “What were you looking at?”

“Oh, nothing, just that gold-colored fabric.” Shrugging in an offhand manner, (Y/N) gestured towards the crowded port in the distance. “C’mon, we probably shouldn’t keep the man waiting…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sailing on the choppy waves of Trask was nothing like (Y/N) was used to; when she was a child, her mother would take her to the Lake Country of Naboo once a year and they’d sometimes take a rowing boat out onto the warm, glass-like waters. On Trask, though, the water was rough and the chilly wind caused their boat to rock from side to side as they sailed, but after their misadventure on Maldo Kreis, (Y/N) found the boat ride to be a nice change of pace.

Hearing the child begin to babble again, (Y/N) looked away from the horizon and smiled down at him in his pram. “Do you like the water too, little guy?” His incoherent chattering grew more insistent as he pointed a tiny clawed hand at the waves. “Are you thirsty? Do you want something to drink?” The child’s ears perked up at her words and she chuckled before reaching into her bag for her canteen. “Looks like I’m getting better at understanding you!”

“I think it’s the ears that make it easier; they’re like big green signal flags.”

(Y/N) glanced up at Mando as she helped the child take a few sips of water and laughed. “They are, aren’t they? Very cute signal flags.” She tucked the canteen back into her bag and stroked a finger across the edge of one of the child’s ears, her smile widening as he let out an adorable little squeal. “I bought some fabric for him at the market earlier; the little guy should have more than one set of clothing, don’t you think?”

The Mandalorian hummed in agreement beside her and while she continued playing with the child, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time. After a few minutes, a Quarren approached them and stood at the railing of the boat before speaking. “You ever see a mamacore eat?” Mando didn’t answer but (Y/N), in an attempt to be polite to their hosts, shook her head. “Quite a sight. The child might take an interest.” She glanced back at the child, whose eyes were indeed widened in wonder as he looked around the boat. “You should take a look.”

Mando’s helmet turned towards her and she shrugged; it couldn’t hurt to indulge their hosts, especially since they were doing them such a large favor. (Y/N) followed her partner and the child’s pram over to the large metal grating covering an opening in the middle of the deck. “Get a good view, let the kid see.”

“All right, close enough.” Mando’s hand came to rest on the curve of her waist, holding her close to his side as the Quarren fishermen opened the grate. Blushing, (Y/N) tried not to look too deeply into his action, since it was clear that he was only keeping her from accidentally falling into the opening, but she couldn’t help but enjoy being so close to him. While the three of them watched, the Quarren emptied a net of fish into the opening and after a beat, the water began bubbling up as the sea creature devoured its food.

“She must be hungry,” The Quarren from before remarked, moving to stand beside the child’s pram as he watched the feeding. “Oftentimes we’ll feed her in the early morning, but we missed that ‘cause we were goin’ out of port!”

Quick as a flash, the Quarren used his fishing gaff to push the child’s pram out into the center of the large opening. “No!” She and Mando exclaimed but before either of them could do anything, the child closed the pram just as the mamacore lunged out of the water and consumed it whole; without a single thought other than the child, (Y/N) dove into the opening alongside Mando, holding her breath and drawing her blaster just as her body hit the water. The water was dark and murky, making it difficult for her to spot the sea creature; in desperation, she fired off a shot into the depths and squinted, trying and failing to make out the enormous shape of the mamacore in the brief red light of the blaster bolt. She managed to fire off three more shots before she was forced to kick up to the surface for air; the Quarren had replaced the grate over the opening and she was forced to shift out of the way of an oncoming fishing gaff, losing her grip on her blaster as she did. They’re trying to drown us, she thought before spotting the Mandalorian at the opposite side of the opening. He was clutching tightly to the grate above them and deeply coughing as the Quarren fishermen continued to slam their gaffs against his beskar armor, obviously struggling to stay afloat with his heavy armor on.

Before (Y/N) could do anything, a Mandalorian dropped down from the grey sky and onto the deck of the boat. They fought off the Quarren fishermen as they were soon joined by two other Mandalorians and while they brawled, (Y/N) quickly swam over Mando. “C’mon, Mando, stay with me!” She held onto the grate with one hand and wrapped her free arm around his torso, using all her strength to hoist him up and keep his head above the water as he gasped for breath.

The grate slid open and they were forced to let go as one of the Mandalorians knelt down and offered them their hand. “Take my hand.” Mando grabbed it and the strange Mandalorian began pulling him out of the water.

“There’s a creature, it has the child…” Mando coughed out.

A second Mandalorian began helping (Y/N) out of the opening as she hurriedly added, “It’s a mamacore, it swallowed the child’s pram!”

“On it!” The third Mandalorian dove into the water and disappeared beneath the surface.

Both Mandalorians guided (Y/N) and Mando to sit on top of a stack of fishermen’s ropes, and her partner continued to fight for air as he gestured to the opening. “The child…help the child…”

“Don’t worry, brother, we’ve got this.”

As the two Mandalorians turned back to the opening in the deck, (Y/N) leaned forward and rested her hands on his pauldrons, her eyes darting over his body in search of injuries. “Are you okay, Mando? They didn’t hit you?” He managed a weak head-shake and she couldn’t stop herself from surging forward to pull him into a hug; after a moment, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist as he returned the gesture.

They separated just as the Mandalorian flew out of the water, the child’s dented pram in her arms. (Y/N)’s heart dropped and fear settled in her stomach as she watched the Mandalorian set the pram down on the deck of the boat and wrenched part of its lid off, but she soon let out a shaky sigh of relief when she realized that the child was unharmed. With gentle hands, the Mandalorian reached inside the ruined pram and pulled the child out. “Here you go, little one.”

The Mandalorian handed the child to Mando, who held the child between them and examined him for injuries before looking up at the three warriors. “Thank you. I’ve been searching for more of our kind.”

“Well, lucky we found you first.” The Mandalorian closest to them remarked; while they spoke, the Mandalorian who’d jumped into the water handed (Y/N) back her blaster she’d accidentally dropped, and she nodded in thanks before holstering it.

“My partner and I have been quested to deliver this child. I was hoping that-” Mando stopped short and when (Y/N) looked up from the child, she instantly knew why: the Mandalorians, all three of them, had taken their helmets off. As a smuggler, she’d seen a fair bit of the galaxy but in all that time, she couldn’t claim to have ever witnessed a Mandalorian take off their helmets before. Maybe they’re similar to Cobb Vanth, she thought to herself, her brow furrowing as she watched her partner stagger to his feet. She got to her feet and stood beside him as he addressed the red-haired woman who’d helped him out of the water. “Where did you get that armor?”

The woman looked taken aback by his accusatory tone as she replied, “This armor has been in my family for three generations.”

“You do not cover your face. You are not Mandalorian.”

“He’s one of them.” The man who’d aided (Y/N) muttered, and the woman standing behind him cursed under her breath.

“One of what?”

The red-haired woman frowned but took a step closer towards them. “I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. I was born on Mandalore and fought in the Purge…I am the last of my line. And you are a Child of the Watch.”

(Y/N)’s frown deepened at her words, and she wasn’t the only one who was confused. “The Watch?” Mando asked, his question dripping with contention.

Bo-Katan nodded once. “Children of the Watch are a cult of religious zealots that broke away from Mandalorian society.” She glanced down at the child in Mando’s arm before continuing. “Their goal was to re-establish the ancient Way.”

Mando was silent for a moment as he stared down Bo-Katan, finally answering her with a gruff, “There’s only one Way: The Way of the Mandalore.” He turned his back on the three Mandalorians and wrapped an arm around a surprised (Y/N) before activating his jetpack and flying off into the sky. She was quick to fling her arms around him and shut her eyes, still weary of flying by jetpack, but she decided that it would be wise not to say anything in that moment. From what she’d gathered from their encounter with the other Mandalorians, her partner was coming to the painful realization that the beliefs his covert had indoctrinated him with were all lies.

They flew back towards the port in complete silence; even the child seemed to be aware of the tension radiating off Mando, as he was resting quietly in the crook of his arm. It was only when they’d begun their descent that her partner finally spoke. “Thank you…for helping me back there.”

“Of course.” Their feet touched the ground, but (Y/N) didn’t release her hold on the Mandalorian; his helmet tilted to the side as he looked down at her, but he also didn’t remove his arms from around her. “I just wanted to…well, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

Mando nodded once, the visor of his helmet still trained on her; his gloved hand flexed, pressing a little tighter into her waist, and she realized that he was hugging her in his own restrained sort of way. The realization made her unwittingly tremble, and the small movement seemed to shake him out of his thoughts. “You’re shivering, alor’ad.” He pulled away from her but placed his hand on the small of her waist to urge her to follow him. “C’mon, the Frogs offered us a place to stay tonight; you’ll get sick if you don’t change out of those wet clothes soon…”

They walked through the busy port and down the narrow streets until they reached the home of the Frogs; their hosts had graciously allowed them to stay in their spare room and when (Y/N) spotted the bed, she nearly whimpered in relief. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in a real bed, but her excitement soon turned to panic when she finally grasped that she’d be sharing a bed with her partner, the same partner she’d been beginning to harbor feelings for.

Mando left the Frogs’ home with the child shortly after they arrived, claiming that he had to check and see how the repairs to the Razor Crest were going, but (Y/N) wasn’t so easily fooled; he wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a while and didn’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her so. She didn’t mind, though, as it had been a rather trying day for all of them and his absence gave her a little time to compose herself.

“He’s just your partner, nothing more.” (Y/N) scolded herself, tugging on her newly-dried boots and taking a deep breath before leaving their room to rejoin their hosts. She sat at their small table and watched as the new parents examined their eggs floating in the large carrying container, smiling to herself whenever they pressed their foreheads together or squeezed each other’s hands.

A while later, as they were still waiting for the eggs to hatch, the door of their home slid open to reveal Mando and the child; (Y/N) instantly recognized the tension in his stance and with a quick glance at the distracted Frogs, she got up from the table and made her way over to the Mandalorian as he spoke. “The other Mandalorians recruited me for a mission in exchange for information on where to find a Jedi.”

(Y/N) raised her brows in surprise. “What sort of mission?”

“They’re seizing weapons from an Imperial freighter so they can use them to retake Mandalore.” Mando answered, glancing down at the child in his arms. “It’s too dangerous to bring the child along and after the boat, I don’t trust a lot of this planet’s inhabitants; will you look after him while I’m gone?”

“Of course, Mando.” She nodded, taking the child from him and reaching forward to rest a hand on his forearm. “Good luck.”

They walked over to the table and the Frogs finally looked up from their eggs. “Something’s come up. Do you mind if (Y/N) and the child stay here without me?” Both Frogs croaked and nodded, and Mando turned his attention to the curious child in her arms. “You’re gonna stay here with (Y/N). So, I want you to be respectful and mind your manners; you know what I’m talking about.” (Y/N) frowned in confusion at his cryptic warning but was quickly distracted when her partner looked up at her. “I’ll be back soon, alor’ad. Take care.” He turned and left the home.

That evening, once (Y/N) had left the child in the company of the Frogs and gone to bed, her worried thoughts for her partner were punctuated by an occasional pang of disappointment; as hard as she’d tried, she couldn’t stop imagining how tortuously pleasant it would’ve been to sleep beside the Mandalorian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I guess a thousand credits doesn’t get you much these days.” (Y/N) remarked, sitting in the pilot’s chair and heaving a small sigh as she observed the derelict cockpit. “At least we now have an endless supply of fishing line and netting at our disposal.”

Setting the child down on one of the passenger’s seats, Mando stood beside her and helped prepare the ship for take-off. “Mon Calamari. Remind me never to stop here for repairs again.” His gloved hand hovered over the navigation computer’s controls. “Bo-Katan told me that the Jedi Ahsoka Tano is on Corvus.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brow. “That’s a long ways away from here; three sectors, if I’m not mistaken. We’re gonna be in hyperspace for a while.”

“That should give us plenty of time to make our own repairs to the Crest.” Mando went about charting their course while she flipped various switches. “Maker knows we’ll have a lot of ‘em to do.”

She glanced over at the Mandalorian standing beside her and arched a teasing brow. “Oh, ye of little faith; I’m sure that the ship won’t need that many-” As she spoke, one of the side panels sparked and began ominously humming. Her partner tilted his helmet to the side in an ‘I-told-you-so’ manner and she shot him a hard glare. “Not a word out of you, mir'sheb.”

“Whatever you say, alor’ad.”

Soon after, they had departed Trask and were flying through hyperspace. (Y/N) had convinced Mando to get some rest after his exciting adventure with Bo-Katan and the Mandalorians the night before, and once he left the cockpit with the drowsy child cradled in his arms, she slid out of the pilot’s chair and sat cross-legged in front of her storage container. Opening it up, she went to reach for her mother’s leather-bound sketchbook but stopped short, her eyes widening in surprise at what she saw.

Resting on the top of her possessions was the familiar bundle of golden-yellow chiffon from the market and a wrapped package of sweets that she instantly knew were uj’alayi. I suppose even ex-bounty hunters have a soft side, (Y/N) thought to herself with a gentle smile on her face.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten
The Repairs

“Son of a mud-scuffer, Mando!” (Y/N) groaned in pain, making no attempt to get up off the floor of the ship that she’d been knocked down onto. “Ow…you did that on purpose…”

Beneath his helmet, Din rolled his eyes in exasperation; he stood above the captain with his hands resting on his hips as he heaved a sigh. “That’s kinda the point, isn’t it? An attacker’s not gonna go easy on you just ‘cause you asked them nicely to.”

Din, (Y/N) and the child had been traveling through space for a little over three weeks; in that time, they’d been slowly but surely working on the repairs that the Mon Calamari hadn’t completed. Neither of them were very knowledgeable mechanics, but they did their best as they worked side-by-side.

Whenever they weren’t doing repairs, they relaxed in the cargo hold; Din would work on cleaning his weapons and entertaining the child while (Y/N) sewed, and they’d usually fall into easy conversation. True to her word, she’d quickly completed a new robe for the child – much to the kid’s delight – before starting on what appeared to be a golden-yellow dress. The captain hadn’t said anything to Din about his impromptu gifts of fabric and sweets, but he could clearly see how much the gesture meant to her; he’d often sit and secretly watch her work, admiring how carefully her hands moved across the delicate material and how her eyes narrowed in concentration. She was happy, and he was proud that he’d been the one to help give that to her.

But whenever they weren’t working or relaxing, they were training; Din hadn’t forgotten his promise to teach his partner how to fight and after their recent adventures, he decided that it would be wise for her to learn sooner rather than later. I’d feel a lot better going to Corvus to confront a Jedi if I knew she’d be safe, he thought to himself one evening as he lay awake in his bunk, remembering how easily she’d been overpowered by the Black Sun operatives and the bandits on Tatooine.

“Okay, okay,” He watched as (Y/N) gritted her teeth and clambered to her feet, her brow covered in perspiration. “Can you repeat what you said one more time before we try again?”

“Of course. More often than not, you’ll go up against attackers who’re bigger than you and maybe even stronger, so you use all that to your advantage; a well-placed kick or punch could easily change the course of a fight, but what really matters is that you act faster than they do.” Moving to stand in front of her, Din gestured for her to raise her fists. “Now, I’m gonna attack you and you’re gonna do whatever you can think of to knock me down. Got it?”

(Y/N) nodded, her eyes narrowed and body tensed in preparation, and Din threw his first punch. His partner managed to block it and twist out of the way of his second attack, sucker-punching him hard in his un-armored stomach and hooking her leg around his as he doubled over in surprise; she took advantage of his off-balance by shoving him down, where he landed flat on his back.

Din couldn’t help but grin as the captain let out a celebratory cheer at her success. “I finally did it!”

“Good job, alor’ad…” Deciding to have a little fun with her, he held his arm out towards her; the captain, being the kind-hearted woman that she was, grasped his hand to help him stand and that’s when he acted. He yanked on her arm and brought a foot up to her stomach, flipping her over him and onto her back before quickly maneuvering so that he was straddling her waist and trapping her against the floor of the ship with his hands on her wrists. “…but you should never let your guard down around an enemy.”

Struggling to catch her breath, (Y/N) flashed him a teasing grin. “Mir'sheb. You’ve been waiting to do that since our very first sparring lesson, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Din replied, only then realizing that his joke might not have been the smartest idea; in their current positions, their bodies were flush with one another and being so close to her was only causing his head to spin and his face to warm. In an attempt to save face in front of his partner, he hurriedly continued. “How would you break away from an attacker who has you boxed in like this?”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip in thought as she considered his question; Maker have mercy on me, he thought to himself, swallowing hard and forcing himself to avert his gaze from the tempting sight. “Well, it seems like the only way to gain the upper hand in this, um…position, is to use the attacker’s weight against them.” Before he could reply, she hooked her right foot around his leg and in one fluid motion, she flipped them over so that she was straddling his torso and he was the one now lying flat on his back. “How was that?”

Din let out a breathless chuckle. “Perfect, alor’ad. You’re coming along great.”

“Well, I guess I have my ex-bounty hunter instructor to thank for that.”

“That mean you’re finally admitting that bounty hunters are better than smugglers?”

Her smirk widened and she shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe better at bragging, but that’s about it.”

As she looked down at him with (Y/E/C) eyes twinkling in amusement, Din realized with a sudden jolt that their innocent flirting was rapidly on its way to becoming something much more complicated; his gloved hands had somehow found their way to her hips while they talked, and one of the captain’s thumbs was resting tantalizingly close to the collar of his undershirt and was only centimeters from touching the bare skin of his neck.

With his heart hammering in his chest, he struggled to find his voice but was mercifully saved by a familiar coo; they both looked over to see the child standing beside them, his brow wrinkled in concern as he stared at them with widened eyes, and (Y/N) laughed. “Aw, it’s okay, little guy, I promise I’m not hurting Mando.” She moved to kneel next to the child and pointed towards Din, who was sitting up and trying not to think about how much he missed their closeness. “See? The only thing that’s bruised is his ego!”

“Just for that, alor’ad, you’re the one who gets to change the kid today.” Smirking at the look of stunned disbelief on (Y/N)’s face, Din got to his feet and made his way over to the ladder. “Have fun!”

Her protests followed him as he climbed the ladder to the cockpit to don his armor. “Oh, come on, Mando, I was only joking! Mando? Mando! Dank farrik…”

Once Din put his armor back on, he and (Y/N) decided to try their hand at some of the more complicated repairs in the cockpit. Their work kept them busy and at opposite ends of the small space, much to Din’s relief; the temptation to touch or even be near the captain like he’d been when they were sparring was overwhelming, but it helped a little to have a complex distraction to focus on.

“Hey Mando, could you hand me those pliers on the control panel?”

Din, who was seated in the pilot’s chair and had been busy testing which switches were still operational, glanced over and nearly fell out of his seat. (Y/N) was standing on the right passenger’s chair, her arms elbow-deep in an exposed panel full of tangled wiring, but that’s not what had stunned him; it was the full, unobstructed view of her trouser-clad hips and legs right in front of him. So much for those complex distractions, he thought with an inward groan, trying and failing to avert his gaze from the appealing sight.

“Mando? The pliers?”

“Right, right,” Giving his head a small shake, he grabbed the pliers and stood, leaning against the wall of the cockpit as he handed the tool to her. “How’re the repairs going up there?”

(Y/N) smiled to herself while she continued rewiring. “Well, we should be able to land safely and avoid plummeting to our deaths now but I’m not making any promises, though. What about you? Did you get the hyperdrive fixed yet?”

“No, not yet. I have to rewire the ship’s circuit board, which just so happens to be four feet behind that tiny opening there.” Din pointed to the opening in question before sighing. “You don’t think you’d be able to reach your arm in there, do you?” The captain shot him an ‘are-you-being-serious’ look, to which he merely shrugged and glanced back at the opening. “I figured I’d ask just in case. Unfortunately, it’s one of those kinds of repairs that a ship can’t function properly without; we just need to find something small to fit…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“…I’m beginning to think this might’ve been a bad idea, Mando.”

Din shot (Y/N) a look of disbelief from under his helmet. “But it was your idea!”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who agreed to it; as my partner, you really should have better sense than to indulge my off-the-cuff ideas,” (Y/N) retorted, crossing her arms as she knelt beside the small opening; she nervously bit her lip as her brow furrowed in worry. “He’s just a baby, after all.”

Although her comment was fair, her words sparked a surge of protectiveness towards the child. “He’s not just a baby, alor’ad, he’s special. He understands a lot more than people realize and with all the crazy power he has, I’m sure he’ll be able to help us rewire a simple circuit board.” Din turned back to the control panels and began flipping switches. “All right, let’s try this again…okay, do you have the wire?” He asked over his shoulder, hearing a faint coo as one of the ship’s alarms began to blare; pressing another button, he shut off the alarm and sighed. “No, nothing.”

He got up from the pilot’s seat and went over to kneel beside (Y/N) as she patiently called out, “Did you get the wire out? The red wire?”

Peering into the opening, Din watched as the child let out a small coo and raised the tiny hand that held the blue wire, and he pointedly ignored the skeptical look the captain threw him. “No, no. No, the red one, show me the red wire. The red one.” The child looked down at the wires in his hands before waving the blue one around, and Din fought the proud smile that was tugging at his lips. “Yes, good. Now, you’re going to plug that red wire where the blue wire goes in the board.”

“I think you might’ve confused him…” (Y/N) whispered as they both watched the child tilt his head; she leaned in closer and called out, “Okay, little guy, you’re gonna put the red wire where the blue wire goes in the board. Okay?”

“But don’t let them touch!” Din hastily added, noticing how close the two wires were to one another; the child tilted his head again and let out a confused sort of whimper. “You see where you took the blue one off?” The child held up the blue wire and he nodded. “Yes. Now, put the red one – no, don’t put the blue one back. Put the red one where the blue one was, and put the blue one where the red one was.”

With the added hand gestures, Din was confident that the child had understood his instructions but beside him, (Y/N) had resumed nervously biting her lip. “But be careful, little guy. They’re oppositely charged, so keep them away from each other; make sure you hold them apart.”

The child ignored the captain’s warning and while he brought the two wires closer, Din frantically shook his head. “No, don’t let them touch-” He and (Y/N) both jumped when the wires connected and sent an electric shock through the child’s body, briefly surrounding him in bright sparks and smoke; once it dissipated, Din hesitantly asked, “You okay?” The child coughed in response, but he seemed to be uninjured, much to Din’s relief. He glanced over at (Y/N) and met her ‘I-told-you-so’ expression with a sheepish sort of shrug. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

“If you say so, Mando. I’m gonna go prepare some broth for him now.” His partner got to her feet and gave his arm a pat before turning and making her way down to the cargo hold; her touch seemed to send an electric shock through Din, his skin flushing as he once again remembered their earlier closeness, and he let out a shaky breath.

Looking back to the opening, the sight of the child standing at its entrance with widened eyes caused him to smile. “C’mon, kid, let’s get you some lunch for your hard work.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Din sat beside the child on one of their storage containers and enjoyed some warm broth, since (Y/N) insisted that he needed to eat something as well. Although he’d explained that lifting his helmet to take sips of broth in front of her and the child wouldn’t break his Creed, she insisted on sitting behind him on her makeshift cot and sewing so that he’d have more privacy. Her consideration for his Creed was touching, but after his confrontation with Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorians on Trask, he found himself realizing that for the first time in his life, someone else cared more about his Creed than he did. His recent feelings towards his Creed were…complicated, to say the least; if what Bo-Katan said was true, then he’d grown up within a cult of religious zealots who’d coerced him into swearing a Creed than wasn’t truly Mandalorian but on the other hand, the so-called Watch had saved him as a child and raised him after he’d lost his parents, and that was a kindness he couldn’t just ignore.

“You’re kinda quiet over there, Mando.”

Smiling to himself at her unspoken question, Din lifted the bottom of his helmet up and swallowed a sip of broth before answering. “Yeah, just lost in thought. Are you ever gonna tell me what it is you’re making?”

Her laugh carried through the cargo hold, and Din was reminded of how much he enjoyed hearing the sound. “What’s it look like I’m making, a fathier blanket? It’s a dress!”

“Mir'sheb. I know you’re making a dress but I was just wondering…well, why? Dresses aren’t exactly practical in our line of work, alor’ad.”

The captain was quiet for a moment and just as Din silently cursed his bluntness, she replied, “Ever since I was little, I had a dream of settling down on a peaceful planet and opening up my own shop, just like my mother had done. But then the Empire tightened their control of Naboo, she died of illness and I fell into the smuggling life…and suddenly, my dream seemed irrelevant. When the Rebellion finally ended and the New Republic was established, I began thinking about that childhood dream again; the way I see it, if I can create this one thing with only my mother’s sketchbook and the memories of my old trade to guide me, then I’ll know whether or not I’m meant for the life I’d envisioned for myself.” The cargo hold was silent for a moment. “What about you? What kind of future do you imagine for yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Din answered truthfully, the words almost falling out of his mouth as he continued. “Living the life I’ve lead, I…well, a future’s never a guarantee, so I never allowed myself to imagine one. But if I had to, I don’t think I’d want any specific future…just a peaceful one…” He didn’t know what else to say; he couldn’t exactly follow up something heavy like that with a witty comeback, so he merely nodded and glanced down at the child, who was happily drinking the last of his broth. “You want some more broth, kid?” The child tilted his head and held out his empty bowl towards Din, who couldn’t help but smile as he ladled some more broth into it. “There you go.” The child began gulping down his second helping, and Din glanced around the derelict cargo hold with a sigh. “You know, there’s no way we’re making it to Corvus in this shape.”

“I’ll have to agree with you on that. With the hyperdrive broken, it won’t be long before we’re fighting off bandits and bounty hunters.”

“You know, I think we need to visit some friends for repairs,” Din remarked, turning around to meet (Y/N)’s curious expression. “How’d you like to visit Navarro?”

“Navarro, huh? I’ve never been, but it sounds a lot better than floating around in space like a sitting porg.” Setting aside her bundle of fabric, (Y/N) got to her feet and gestured over to the ladder with a tentative smile. “Wanna help me chart our course, Mando? You can tell me about these friends of yours while we work…”

Din nodded and the captain’s smile widened as she began climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. Making sure that the child had everything he needed, Din hurried up into the cockpit after her; maybe a peaceful future wasn’t in the cards for him, but he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy the brief moments of happiness whenever he could.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven
The Siege

“Okay, now ease down on the lever…”

While Mando piloted the Razor Crest through the clouds of Nevarro, he glanced over his shoulder at (Y/N) and heaved one of his trademark sighs of exasperation. “I thought I hired a partner, not a piloting instructor.”

“I’m sorry but out of the two of us, which one crashed a ship onto an inhospitable ice planet and then straight into a harbor?” (Y/N) asked, sarcasm lacing her words; the Mandalorian didn’t say anything as he turned back around and her smile only widened. “You know, it’s funny how I can’t see your eyes and yet I always know when you’re rolling them at me.” She looked down at the child in her lap, who was busy playing with his silver orb. “Mando’s pretty silly, isn’t he, little guy?”

The child squealed in delight when she wriggled her fingers at his sides and she laughed; she’d never been very good with children but the longer she’d been near the small green child, the more comfortable she’d become with him. To her surprise, the feeling seemed to be mutual; although he still preferred to be held by Mando, there were times when he’d practically demand her attention no matter what she was already doing. It was a little odd at first, to have another being want her around so much, but she’d grown used to it.

Despite her earlier teasing, Mando managed to land the ship as smoothly as he could at the outskirts of the small town; he took the child from her and waited for her to finish strapping her blaster to her waist before lowering the back ramp. It succeeded in lowering itself halfway before seizing up and after exchanging identical sighs of defeat, they both walked out onto the ramp and jumped the short way down to the ground.

A man and a woman, who (Y/N) immediately recognized as Greef Karga and Cara Dune, stood by and watched as they approached them. Karga was the first to speak, exclaiming, “Looks like someone could use some repairs!”

Mando firmly shook his hand. “How’s my credit around here?”

“I think something can be arranged. Isn’t that right, Marshal?”

Cara smiled beside him, reaching forward to affectionately stroke the child’s large ear. “I’m sure we can work something out.” When she straightened, (Y/N) caught sight of the tattooed stripes on her right bicep and instantly recognized them as the marks of a Rebel drop soldier; before she could say or do anything, though, she met Cara’s gaze and finally noticed the small Rebel Alliance tear tattooed at the corner of her eye. (Y/N)’s blood turned to ice at the sight; she’s from Alderran, she thought with dread, hoping with all her might that the marshal couldn’t detect her hint of a Mid-Rim accent and realize she was Naboo. Within the Rebel Alliance, those from Naboo were treated with resentment by the survivors of Alderran, as they blamed the planet for the rise of the Empire, and (Y/N) quickly learned to hide her planet of origin from other Rebellion smugglers. Thankfully, though, Cara only looked at her with a curious gleam in her eye. “I see you brought a friend, Mando. Aren’t you gonna introduce us?”

“This is (Y/N), my newest crew member; I brought her on to help with my quest. (Y/N), this is Cara Dune.”

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cara.” With a nervous smile, (Y/N) shook the marshal’s outstretched hand. “Mando’s told me a little about you.”

“All good things?”

“Oh, I’m sure; Mando’s our pal, after all!” Karga clasped her hand between his and grinned. “Greef Karga. It’s an honor to welcome any friend of Mando’s to Nevarro, but especially one as charming as you.”

While (Y/N) raised a brow at his compliment, Mando rested his free hand on his hip and tilted his helmet. “The ship, Karga?”

“I’ll get my best people on it.” Karga turned to a couple of mechanics working nearby. “Hey, fellas, let’s fix this man’s ship! I want it good as new!” In the crook of Mando’s arm, the child cooed and Karga’s grin widened. “And you. Come here, little one!” Karga lifted the child up and laughed. “Have Mando and (Y/N) been taking good care of you, huh?” The magistrate looked up from the child and shot them both a stern look. “Have you two been taking good care of him?” Hearing the child coo again, Karga chuckled. “Yeah? Yeah, he said ‘yeah!’”

Still talking to the child nestled in his arms, Karga turned and began walking back to the town; the three of them followed, (Y/N) with carefully concealed reluctance. Just as she was about to tell Mando she’d rather stay with the ship and oversee its repairs, Cara glanced over at them with narrowed eyes. “So, how long have you two been working together?”

“A couple of months. We met when she hired me to help her with a job and once I saw her piloting abilities, I asked her to join my crew.” Mando didn’t elaborate further and (Y/N)’s shoulders nearly sagged in relief; she suspected that her partner had picked up on her discomfort but she wasn’t positive until he rested a comforting hand on her lower back as they made their way through a bustling market. “Looks like you two’ve been busy.”

“I myself have been steeped in clerical work,” Karga called out over his shoulder. “Marshal Dune here is to be thanked for cleaning up the town.”

Cara merely shrugged, turning her attention back to Mando. “Your ship’s not lookin’ too good.”

“We had a run-in with the New Republic.”

(Y/N) bit back a smile at her partner’s purposefully vague explanation and listened as Karga muttered, “They should leave the Outer Rim alone. If the Empire couldn’t settle it, what makes them think they can?” They stopped in front of a large building and he reached for the door’s control panel. “Here we are.”

While Karga was busy pressing buttons, Mando tilted his helmet and let out a contemplative hum. “I’m surprised to see this place still standing.”

“Just wait ‘til you see inside.” The marshal smiled before turning and following Karga into the building.

(Y/N) and Mando trailed behind, standing beside the two and taking in the scene before them; they were inside of a school room, and she’d visited enough cantinas in her lifetime to realize what the building had formerly housed. Rows of children seated at desks were listening with rapt attention as a protocol droid pointed to a star chart and lectured about the galaxy, and (Y/N)’s heart warmed at the sight.

“A school?” Mando asked, and judging by the tone of his voice, he was also endeared by the peaceful sight.

Cara grinned and nodded as they looked on. “Things have changed a lot around here.”

“We’ll leave the little one here so we can talk business.”

Her brow furrowing in concern, (Y/N) held up a hand to stop the magistrate from leaving. “Wait…”

“Wherever we go, he goes.” Mando added, worry lacing his words as he glanced down at the wide-eyed child in Karga’s arm.

“Mando, (Y/N), please. Where we’re going, you don’t wanna take a child. Trust me.”

Karga glanced between them before turning and moving to place the child at one of the empty desks near the front, and (Y/N) nervously bit her lip as Cara quietly reassured them both; the magistrate walked back to where all three of them stood and gestured for them to follow him back out to the street. Mando hesitated, still looking over at the child, and (Y/N) grabbed his gloved hand to urge him along with her; he eventually relented, walking by her side out of the school room as she reluctantly released his hand.

They followed Karga and Cara through the busy streets to an administrative building; before (Y/N) could enter behind the two men, Cara’s hand shot out and grabbed her elbow to halt her. “I haven’t done anythin’ to offend you, (Y/N), have I? I only ask ‘cause you seem a little skittish here.”

Quickly shaking her head, (Y/N) met the marshal’s concerned gaze with an apologetic smile. “No, no, of course not! It’s just that…well, I saw your stripes and…I’m a veteran, too, I was a Captain in the Alliance Fleet,” She blurted out, instantly regretting her words as she hurriedly continued. “I’m just not used to seeing other veterans, that’s all.” Realization dawned on Cara’s face and she nodded in understanding, walking alongside (Y/N) as they entered the administrative building together.

“…Mythrol here’s taken care of my books since he was a pollywog. But then he disappeared one day after a bit of ‘creative accounting.’”

(Y/N) looked on as a nervous Mythrol seated at a desk tried and failed to smile. “Magistrate Karga was generous enough to let me work off my debt. Thank you, by the way.”

“Three hundred and fifty years but who’s counting?” Karga muttered darkly, shooting the Mythrol a hard look.

“Well, if he runs off on you again, let me know.” The Mandalorian beside her remarked, and she arched a curious brow; the Mythrol must’ve been one of his last bounties before retiring from the Guild, she thought to herself, no wonder the guy looks so nervous. Not that (Y/N) could blame him, of course. From the stories Mando told about his old bounty hunting days, she thanked the Maker that no one had ever hired him to bring her in; she knew she’d never stand a chance against such a formidable hunter.

The Mythrol chuckled nervously. “Let me assure you, I do not wanna spend any more time in carbonite! Still can’t see outta my left eye…”

“Can we talk business?” Cara interrupted as she made her way over to another desk, a grim expression on her face.

Mando glanced over at (Y/N) before curtly replying, “We’re only here for repairs.”

“Which will take a while, which means you two’ll have free time on your hands, right?” Karga exchanged a look with Cara before letting out a small sigh. “And we could really use some help.”

“Help how?” (Y/N) asked, already on-edge by the magistrate’s cryptic words.

Cara leaned forward and switched on a hologram projector resting on the desk. “This is Nevarro.” She pointed to a green-hued section of the map. “We’re here. This entire area’s a green zone, completely safe. But over on this side is the problem.” After tapping the map, they watched as she zoomed in on a red-hued area not far from where they were located.

“It’s an old Imperial base.”

“It’s where all those troops came from when we defeated Moff Gideon,” Cara elaborated and Mando tensed up at the mention of Gideon’s name; (Y/N) knew a little of Mando’s adventures on Nevarro, and she also knew why her partner was so wary of the dead Imperial officer. “This base has been here since the Imperial expansion. It’s got a skeleton crew but for some reason, it hasn’t been abandoned.”

Karga nodded. “There’s a lot of heavy weaponry in that place the black market would love to dismantle and get their hands on.”

“And you wanna mop up the last of the Imperial forces before they do.”

“Mando, I just want them off my planet,” The magistrate heaved a sigh and looked over at the hologram. “If we could take out that one last base, Nevarro would be completely safe. We could be a trade anchor for the entire sector.”

“And the planet would finally be free.”

The marshal’s compelling words stirred something within (Y/N), and she immediately thought of the school room that they’d just visited. Those children have a chance to grow up on a planet free of any Imperial influence, she thought to herself, and they could be the first generation to have the childhood that none of us got but had always dreamed of. She looked over at Mando and into the visor of his helmet, giving him a barely-discernable nod.

After a moment, Mando turned back to Karga and Cara. “What are we looking at?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The journey across the lava flats of Nevarro was quick, much to (Y/N)’s relief; the Mythrol’s land speeder was small, so she sat sandwiched in between Mando and Karga in the backseat. Under any other circumstance, she would’ve been nervously excited to be seated so close to the Mandalorian, but all she could really think of was how uncomfortable it was to be squished into the backseat of a speeder beside a towering man wearing full beskar armor. Definitely not as comfortable as when you sat in his lap on Trask, she thought to herself, biting her lip as she remembered how his strong arms had wrapped so protectively around her body and how touchingly concerned his voice had been when he spoke. Giving her head a small shake, she returned her attention to her companions’ planning.

“…The whole base is powered by a reactor.”

Cara nodded from her spot in the passenger seat. “We sneak in, overload the reactor and get the hell out of there.”

“Let’s be fast, and keep the speeder running.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, silently agreeing with her partner as they turned a corner and approached the Imperial base. Once they parked the speeder, she clambered out and drew her blaster the moment her feet touched the hardened lava; she followed the others to an elevator door nestled into the rocky wall, her blaster raised as Mando examined its control panel.

After a moment, he stepped back with a frustrated sigh. “These controls are useless; they’re melted.”

The others began complaining about the poor Imperial craftsmanship, but (Y/N) was only half-listening. Her eyes were drawn up to the landing pad that was jutting out at the top of the cliff, and it might’ve been her imagination but she could’ve sworn she saw movement. Sensing that Mando had moved to stand beside her, she mumbled, “I’m getting the feeling that there’s more than a skeleton crew up there.”

“Yeah, me too; let’s check it out.” Tearing her eyes away from the landing pad, (Y/N) glanced over at Mando in time to see him holster his blaster and awkwardly raise his arm. “Um, may I?”

Her brow rose in surprise and she couldn’t help but smile. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve asked permission. Who says you can’t teach an ex-bounty hunter some manners?”

Mando tilted his helmet as he looked down at her. “Watch it, alor’ad, I could always drop you.” But as he spoke, his arm wound securely around her waist and he held her against his side while looking over at the others. “Hold tight.” Activating his jetpack, they shot up into the air and landed on the top of the cliff.

“Blast ‘em!”

(Y/N) pulled herself away from Mando and ducked down in time to avoid a blaster bolt, quickly drawing her own weapon and shooting the Stormtrooper that had missed her; another Stormtrooper jumped out from behind a pile of machinery and she shot him before he could aim his blaster. She glanced over in time to see Mando shoot one before kicking another off the landing pad and turning to look at her, and she could tell by his body language that he was just as surprised as she was. “I knew something was wrong about all this. Why would an empty base have armed Imps stationed at it?”

“I don’t know.” The doors of the elevator opened to reveal the others, their weapons drawn as they glanced down at the dead Stormtroopers. “Empty base, huh?”

Cara moved to peer over the edge of the landing pad while Karga stood beside the two of them. “The reactor should be set in the heat shaft. If we drain the cooling lines, this whole base will go up in a matter of minutes.”

Frowning, (Y/N) opened her mouth to voice her concern but was interrupted by the Mythrol, who excitedly called out, “Look, it’s a mint Trexler Marauder! You know how much we can get a lot for this on the black market?”

“And it’s gonna get vaporized like the rest of this base.” Mando snapped before gesturing towards the base’s entrance. “Now, let’s go.”

(Y/N) crouched behind the edge of the entrance beside Mando, clutching the handle of her blaster as the Mythrol opened the door. Parked inside were a handful of speeder bikes but no Stormtroopers, so they quietly began making their way through the hall to the base’s control room, holding their blasters at the ready while the grumbling Mythrol knocked out the security feed. Once they reached the control room, Cara hurried forward to take out the officer seated at a row of monitors while Mando and (Y/N) holstered their blasters and examined the controls.

“This should buy us some time,” (Y/N) mumbled, switching off all the different security feeds for the base. “Mando?”

The Mandalorian looked up from the monitor he’d been scrolling through. “I’ve found the heat shaft.” They drew their blasters as the others moved away from the dead Imperial officer. “Let’s go.”

Hastening through the hallways of the Imperial base, the five of them were on high alert for any Stormtroopers or Imperial officers. (Y/N) was on-edge as she fell into step beside Mando; she would’ve preferred a full-on assault to sneaking around, but she had faith in her partner’s plan. “The access corridor should be right past this junction.” Right as they came to the junction, Mando’s arm suddenly shot out and stopped her in her tracks just as a pair of chatting Stormtroopers walked by; she looked up into his helmet’s visor and nodded in silent thanks before following Cara down the now-empty hallway. They soon came upon a closed door and Mando gestured to the control panel beside it. “There, Mythrol, slice that door.”

(Y/N) anxiously kept watch while Karga quietly ordered, “Use the code cylinder.”

Moments later, the door slid open and (Y/N) turned away from the empty hallway, following the others through a second doorway and into the heat shaft. The first thing she registered was the strong smell of sulfur emanating from the shaft and when she moved to stand beside Mando, she looked down and saw the glowing orange lava bubbling down below.

White-hot flames. A village in smoldering ruins as people ran away screaming and crying. Stormtroopers raising their flamethrowers and blasters, leveling them at the retreating villagers and firing without hesitation…

“(Y/N)!” Two familiar strong arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her backwards, away from the edge of the heat shaft that she’d nearly toppled over; her knees gave out and she felt herself being dragged to sit against the wall as she realized that her body was shaking. In a flash, Mando was kneeling in front of her, his gloved hands resting on her shoulders. “(Y/N), what’s wrong, are you hurt?” Her voice wouldn’t work, so all she could do was shake her head and squeeze her eyes shut to block out the glow of the lava. “Osik!” He swore and she heard him hurriedly ask, “What do I do?”

“Captain. C’mon, Captain, I need you to look at me.” Cara’s voice was clear and strong in front of her, and (Y/N) forced herself to open her eyes; the marshal smiled and nodded in encouragement. “That’s it, Captain. You’re safe here, okay?” She glanced over at Mando beside her. “Stay here and try calming her down, I’ll cover Karga and Mythrol.”

Once Cara stood and made her way back to where the others stood, Mando scooted closer and held one of (Y/N)’s trembling hands between his own. “I’m here, alor’ad, but you’ve gotta snap out of it. C’mon, cyar’ika…” While she continued struggling for air, Mando took the hand he’d been holding and, without any hesitation, brought it up underneath the bottom of his helmet to rest against the skin of his face; (Y/N) blinked in surprise, unable to move her hand or look away from the visor of his helmet as he continued. “You feel that, ner cyar’ika alor’ad? I’m right here with you, no matter what, but I need you to pull yourself together so we can get the hell out of here, okay?”

Her partner’s words, spoken with such earnest conviction, combined with the grounding feel of his stubbled cheek gave (Y/N) the strength she needed to take a deep breath and nod. “I’m good, I’m good…” With Mando’s help, she eased herself up off the ground and held her blaster in her hand. “How’re we looking?”

A blaring alarm rang out and mixed with the sound of the lava churning more violently below, but Mando was quick to usher her out of the heat shaft before she could see anything else; from somewhere behind the two of them, the Mythrol called out, “All right, she’s gonna blow, let’s go! Let’s get out of here!”

The five of them ran down the hallways, their blasters still drawn and escape being the only thing on their mind. Beside (Y/N), Cara asked, “How long do we have?”

“Ten minutes at most!”

They ran faster, only stopping to flatten themselves against a wall when they heard a group of Stormtroopers running to their battle stations; at Mando’s command, they turned down a different hallway to avoid the soldiers. Soon, they rounded another corner and found themselves in a large room, where two Imperial officers stood before a computer monitor.

One officer drew his blaster. “Destroy it!” He shouted to the second officer before firing on them; (Y/N) fired back along with the others and allowed Mando to usher her off to the side for better cover. Moments later, both men were dead and the room was silent once again.

(Y/N) was about to turn towards Mando when a light-blue glow caught her eye and caused her to freeze in her tracks. They were standing in front of a wall of oval-shaped tanks, and floating within each of them were vaguely-humanoid creatures. This isn’t an Imperial military base, she thought to herself, her blood running cold at the gruesome sight.

“I thought you said this was a forward operating base.” Cara’s horrified whisper broke the silence.

“I thought it was.”

“No, this isn’t a military operation,” (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat and tore her eyes away from the tanks to look at her companions. “…This is a lab.”

Cara nodded. “We need to get into the system and figure out what’s going on.”

The Mythrol whimpered in fear. “What about the reactor?”

“Do it!”

Scrambling to comply with the marshal’s orders, the Mythrol hurried over to the computer monitors and began pressing buttons while they returned their gazes to the tanks. Mando stood beside (Y/N), his free hand clenching and un-clenching as he stared. “I don’t like this.”

“…replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure.”

They turned to see a hologram of a be-speckled man playing, and they slowly approached it as their words continued on.

“There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then, sadly, the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we’ll find a donor with a higher M-count, though. I recommend that we suspend all experimentation. I fear that the volunteer will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion. Unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him.”

(Y/N)’s mouth fell open in horror and she brought her free hand up to cover it. Based on everything that Mando had told her about his past adventures, she knew that the man speaking was Dr. Pershing, the man who’d briefly experimented on the child before Mando rescued him.

“If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon.”

Her head snapped up just as Mando looked down at her, and she didn’t have to see his face to know what he was thinking. “This must be an old transmission. Moff Gideon is dead.”

Shaking his head, the Mythrol nervously replied, “No. This recording’s three days old.”

(Y/N) stared up into Mando’s visor, her eyes widening in fear. “If Gideon’s alive, then-”

Blaster fire forced them all to duck and take aim at the small group of Stormtroopers entering the room; (Y/N) shot one directly in the chest as her partner shoved her towards the wall of tanks for better cover, using his beskar-clad body to shield her as they continued exchanging blaster fire. Once all the Stormtroopers lay dead on the floor, (Y/N) pushed herself off the wall and moved to stand beside Mando, her fear for the child’s safety being the only thing on her mind.

“We need to get the kid.”

“Jet back, you’re faster that way,” Cara ordered, her blaster still raised as she nodded. “We’ll head back to the speeder and meet you in town.”

(Y/N) and Mando turned and ran out of the room, sprinting down the maze of hallways and blasting any Stormtroopers that got in their way. She realized that her partner was leading them back to the heat shaft but she set aside her discomfort for the sake of the child she’d grown to care for.

“Hold tight and don’t look down!” Mando called out to her over the loud churning of the lava as they skidded into the heat shaft. (Y/N) did as he asked, throwing her free arm around him and looking straight up at the shaft’s exposed opening high above; he held her tight and was about to activate his jetpack when a Stormtrooper appeared on the ledge across from them and fired his blaster, the bolt ricocheting off of Mando’s chest plate. (Y/N) quickly aimed her blaster and shot the Stormtrooper just as Mando spun her out of the way and shot at the two other Stormtroopers in the hallway behind them.

“Just go, I’ll cover us!” Tightening her hold on the Mandalorian, (Y/N) felt his body tense as they flew up the shaft; she quickly spotted two Stormtroopers standing at the top of the shaft and fired her blaster, killing them both with two shots. They landed harshly on the top of the cliff, and Mando let out a grunt of pain when another blaster shot rang out; she was quick to shoot the Stormtrooper and turn her attention back to Mando, who was clutching his side. “Mando! Are you hit?!”

“It’s just a graze, let’s go!” Before she could get a look at his wound her partner swept her into his arms, one arm holding her around the back and the other wrapping underneath the crook of her knees, just as he activated his jetpack again and flew them into the air.

They sped through the skies of Nevarro at breakneck speed, and all (Y/N) could do was worry about the child. Neither of them spoke, but she knew that Mando was just as anxious as she was; he kept urging his jetpack to go faster and she could feel his gloved fingers digging into her side. In no time, the town came into view and they were landing on the ground near the entrance gate.

Mando set her down and began backing away while he spoke. “Get the ship prepped for take-off, I’ll go get the kid!”

With a nod, (Y/N) turned and sprinted to the Razor Crest while he ran towards the town, her shoulders sagging in relief when she realized that the ship looked as good as new. Two mechanics tried calling out to her but she ignored them, dashing up the extended ramp and climbing the ladder into the cockpit. She threw herself down into the pilot’s seat, buckling herself in and preparing the newly-repaired ship for take-off; her experienced hands flew across the buttons and switches and in no time at all, the engines were rumbling to life.

“That’s it, baby,” (Y/N) muttered proudly, patting the side of one of the control panel’s and glancing over her shoulder in time to see Mando climbing into the cockpit, the child resting securely in the crook of his arm. “Thank the Maker!”

Mando set the child, who was preoccupied with the package of cookies in his hand, down onto one of the passenger seats and stood beside her as she slowly guided the ship upwards. “You booted everything up that quickly?”

Raising a brow at his impressed tone, she cockily replied, “I told you ex-smugglers were the better pilots. Now, strap yourselves in and let me show you how it’s done.”

The Mandalorian hurriedly secured his and the child’s restraints and once she was sure they were strapped in, (Y/N) engaged the thrusters and piloted the ship through the clear blue skies of Nevarro back towards the Imperial base. It didn’t take her long to spot their companions down below; they were in the Trexler Marauder instead of the Mythrol’s speeder and were being chased out of the rocky ravine by three TIE Fighters. The Imperial ships fired on them and began breaking away for another pass, but (Y/N) clutched the joysticks tightly in her hands and fired, shooting one ship down in one blast. The two remaining TIE Fighters broke off into opposite directions, so she pushed a lever up and followed the one on the right, climbing higher and higher into the atmosphere.

“You’d better hang on, little guy!” (Y/N) called out over her shoulder, smiling to herself when the child let out an excited squeal. As they reached the white clouds of the planet, she fired on the ship, managing to hit its wing and hastily swerve to avoid the exploding wreckage. The child giggled in delight as she switched off the engines, letting the ship fall backwards and stall in the air while the thrusters finished charging.

“Alor’ad…”

Grinning widely, (Y/N) slammed a lever up and steered the speeding ship into a corkscrew spin towards the third TIE Fighter; the small ship fired at them without landing a hit and with a simple squeeze of her finger, she fired their guns and watched with a satisfied smile as the Imperial ship blew up. After dodging the wreckage, she smoothly pulled out of their nosedive and leveled out the ship, switching the controls onto autopilot as she turned around to look at her passengers. “Not too bad, huh, guys?”

Mando merely stared back at her in stunned silence and while she flushed in embarrassment, the child blinked and threw up blue-tinted vomit onto his robe; quickly turning his attention to the guilty-looking child, her partner heaved a sigh. “Oh boy.”

“That was some impressive flying, Mando! What do I owe you?”

While the two of them used the edge of his cape to hurriedly clean up the child, Mando called out through the ship’s communication radio, “That wasn’t me flying, Karga, I told you I’d hired a hell of a pilot.” (Y/N) ducked her head to hide her bashful smile and he continued. “With the repairs, let’s call it even.”

“Can I at least buy you two a drink? I need to find out why an impressive woman like (Y/N)’s hanging around with a bum like you!”

“Sorry, we have some…onboard maintenance we’ve gotta take care of.” Seeing that the child was looking better, (Y/N) turned her attention back to the ship’s controls and switched back to manual piloting.

“Then we’ve gotta hit the road before Gideon catches wise.”

Karga sighed. “Well, good luck flying, my friends.”

“And Captain? May the Force be with you.”

(Y/N)’s hands stilled on the controls and the corner of her mouth curled into a small smile at Cara’s farewell. “And also with you, Soldier.”

The ship flew through the upper atmosphere of Nevarro and in no time, they were traveling through hyperspace towards their next big adventure.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve
The Past

Since bringing (Y/N) on as his partner, Din had slowly grown used to having someone around to fill the deafening silence; if she wasn’t striking up a conversation with him, the captain was talking to the child or humming to herself while she piloted and worked on her sewing projects. But since leaving Nevarro the day before, she’d been unusually quiet and he suspected that her silence had something to do with what happened inside the Imperial base.

She’s always so considerate when it comes to the feelings of others, Din thought to himself as he recalled how understanding she’d been whenever he opened up to her and how kind she always was towards others, but maybe it’s time someone returns the favor. He switched the ship’s controls onto autopilot before making his way down to the cargo hold; (Y/N) was sitting cross-legged on her makeshift cot and absentmindedly cleaning her blaster, her (Y/E/C) eyes unfocused as she stared off into nothing.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

(Y/N) jumped a little, quickly looking over to where Din was standing and offering him a small smile. “My blaster saw a lot of action yesterday; I wanted to make sure it was ready for whatever we come across on Corvus.”

Din nodded. “Good idea.” He walked over to the open armory, grabbing his pulse rifle and a rag before taking a seat on one of the loose storage containers; they both worked on cleaning their weapons for several quiet moments before Din finally spoke. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He kept his gaze trained on his work, but he could hear her set aside her blaster and sigh. “You might’ve already figured it out but in the Rebellion, I was one of a few dozen smugglers who was tasked with smuggling civilians off of Imperial-controlled planets and past their blockades. We would visit the cities and villages that were the hardest hit and get as many people off-planet that we could, and the majority of the time our missions succeeded. But…”

When he glanced up, the captain was staring down at the floor with a hardened expression on her face. “But?”

“Sometimes, the Imps would catch wind that we were coming and rather than see civilians fall under the protection of the Rebel Alliance, they’d raze their homesteads and slaughter everyone in them. It’s been years, but I can still remember all those times I’d arrive too late; Stormtroopers used flamethrowers to burn down homes while a battalion shot down anyone who was left standing. As long as I live, I’ll never forget just how bright those flames were.” She looked up at him and he was struck by how weary her eyes looked. He recognized that they were the eyes of someone who’d seen far too many horrors in their lifetime, because they were the same eyes he saw whenever he looked into his battered mirror.

“So when you saw the lava in the heat shaft, all those memories came rushing back.” (Y/N) nodded once before glancing away. “…I know what that’s like.” She quickly turned her attention back to him and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “When I was a child, the village my parents and I lived in was attacked by Separatist battle droids; I was saved by the Mandalorians but everyone else…I was the only one who survived. The memories of that day – the explosions, the screams, seeing my mother and father for the last time – would always play through my mind whenever I had new armor forged by my Covert’s Armorer. It’s something I’ve learned to live with, but only because I try focusing on the good; the Mandalorians took me in when I needed a home and they raised me as a foundling, and without their kindness I would’ve died a long time ago.” The damning words of Bo-Katan came to mind but Din quickly pushed them aside; no matter what Creed they followed, the Mandalorians who took him in had helped him survive. “You saved innocent lives during the Rebellion. Thousands of people are alive because of you, alor’ad, and that is what’s important.”

After taking a moment to absorb his words, (Y/N) slowly began to smile; she didn’t say anything, but he could see the understanding in her eyes and he couldn’t help but return her smile beneath his helmet. The sound of his sleeping compartment opening broke the spell and they both turned to see the child blinking the sleep out of his wide eyes.

“Did you have a good nap, little guy?” (Y/N) asked, standing up and making her way over to the compartment; the child responded with a small coo and the captain chuckled, picking him up and glancing over at Din with a widening smile. “Well, I don’t know about you, Mando, but I could do with another sparring session right about now. What do you say?”

Getting to his feet, Din rested his hands on his hips and tilted his helmet as he met her challenging gaze. “Sure, why not? I’m always ready to take on cocky ex-smugglers and win.”

She rolled her eyes and looked down at the child in her arms. “You think I can beat Mando, right?” The child giggled and wrapped a clawed hand around the finger she was tapping his tiny nose with. “That’s what I thought! Mando doesn’t stand a chance, does he, little guy?”

Din watched their interaction with a fond smile on his face and in that moment, he made a decision. “Din.”

“Hmm?” (Y/N) distractedly asked as she glanced up at him. “What was that?”

“My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

While interacting with different cultures on his travels throughout the galaxy, Din had heard his fair share of fairytales and superstitions and although he respected the differing beliefs, he never put much stock in any of them. But in that moment, while he watched the blinding smile stretch across (Y/N)’s face, he could honestly say that he believed in the existence of angels.

“Well, Din Djarin, are you ready to get your ass kicked or what?”

Din couldn’t remember the last time he laughed as hard as he did at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, they dropped out of hyperspace and Din piloted the ship towards Corvus while (Y/N) went down to the cargo hold to pack up their supplies. The child sat on top of one of the nearby control panels, staring out the viewport at the stars with widened eyes, and Din couldn’t help but smile sadly when he glanced over at him; if Bo-Katan’s lead on Ahsoka Tano’s correct, then this’ll be the kid’s last ride in the Razor Crest, he thought to himself.

“Corvus. This is the place; I’ve detected a beacon. I’m starting the landing cycle, so you’d better get back in your seat,” Din ordered as he began flicking switches and pressing buttons, looking over and frowning when he saw that the child hadn’t moved. “Hey, what did I tell you?” He gestured with his helmeted head to the passenger seat behind him. “Back in your seat.” With a disgruntled coo, the child clambered off the control panel and over to the passenger seat, and Din tried not to think about how much he was going to miss having the stubborn kid around.

The ship flew through the upper atmosphere and into the smog-filled air of the planet, and they soon landed on the outskirts of the small walled-off city of Calodan. Din and the child climbed down into the cargo hold just as (Y/N) was slinging a knapsack over her shoulders; since they didn’t know what to expect on Corvus, the captain’s blaster was concealed beneath a long-hooded coat and a vibroblade was tucked into her boot.

“Ready to go, alor’ad?”

(Y/N) looked over at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes; he knew that she’d grown attached to the child in the short time she’d been with them and it was obvious that she was trying her best to hide her conflicted feelings for the sake of their quest. “Yep! Let’s go find ourselves a Jedi.”

They lowered the ramp of the ship and walked out onto the planet’s surface, Din’s hand resting on the blaster holstered at his hip as he glanced around. The yellow-tinted smog filled the air and surrounding them was a forest of dying trees, among which a couple of creatures were slowly moving. When he turned back to (Y/N), his words died on his lips and his brow furrowed in concern as he took in her stiff expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Something feels…off about this place, Din.” She bit her lip and gave a decisive nod. “I’m gonna go get the little guy’s satchel.”

(Y/N) made her way back into the ship while Din stayed where he was; the longer he looked around, the more uneasy he felt about the planet. The sound of tiny footsteps behind him made him turn around to see the child sitting down on the ramp, his favorite silver sphere clutched in his hands, and he sighed in exasperation. “What did I say about that?” He knelt down and took the sphere from the cooing child, tucking it into the pouch at his waist with a firm head-shake. “This needs to stay on the ship.”

The captain returned a moment later with the satchel in hand and once Din slung it over his head, she helped him place the child in it. “You won’t be in here too long, little guy, just until we know that everything’s safe.” She ran a hand over the child’s wrinkled head and looked up at Din, a small crease forming between her brows. “You feel it too, right?”

Din nodded, resting a comforting hand on the small of his partner’s back as he urged her forward. “Let’s head into town, alor’ad, see if we can pick up a lead.”

As they started towards the city of Calodan, Din’s gloved hand dropped back to his side and he found himself clenching and unclenching it, silently wishing that he could’ve left it where it was. His impulsive decision to place her hand on the skin of his face back on Nevarro had plagued him; he tried focusing on other things, but all he could truly think of was the feeling of her soft hand on his cheek. Her touch had ignited something within him, and he’d quickly come to realize that he wanted nothing more than to be close to (Y/N); it was torture, especially during their sparring sessions, but he tried his damnedest to keep his hands to himself and remain focused on their quest.

They neared the gates of Calodan and Din’s eyes were instantly drawn to the three guards standing on the wall above; stopping in front of the gate, they both looked up as one of the guards stepped forward and called down, “State your business.”

“Been tracking for a few days,” Din called back, careful to keep the child hidden behind his cape. “We’re looking for a layover.”

The guard who’d addressed them raised his brows, seemingly impressed at the sight of them. “Nice armor. You a hunter, then?”

Din nodded once. “That’s right.”

“Guild?”

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Din replied, “Last I checked.”

The guard’s eyes flicked over to (Y/N). “And you?”

“I’m his pilot,” (Y/N) confidently called back. “And his business partner.”

After several tense moments, the guard nodded and glanced over at one of his companions. “Open the gate.”

The gates slowly opened and the two of them walked inside, acutely aware that the gate had been closed behind them. Beside him, (Y/N) adjusted her fingerless gloves and mumbled under her breath, “Not exactly keen on strangers, are they?”

Din didn’t answer but he silently agreed; the further they traveled into the city, the more apparent it became that something wasn’t right. The people they passed on the street ducked their heads to avoid eye contact, some even darting into their homes before they could walk by, and the few vendors there were eyed the two them with caged expressions on their faces. This doesn’t seem like the sort of place a Jedi would live, he thought to himself as his brow furrowed.

Gesturing for the captain to follow, Din slowly approached a vendor on his right. “Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…” His words died in his throat when the vendor abruptly walked away and he turned to (Y/N), who’s frown had only deepened as her eyes looked past him towards the alleyway. Confused, he turned to see an older man and two small children in the shadows of the alley; the man was giving the children food and quietly speaking to them, and Din figured that he might be easier to speak to. “You there, we need some information.” He and (Y/N) stepped closer to the man as he got to his feet. “My partner and I are looking for someone.”

The man frowned in displeasure, turning to say something to the two children and watching them run off before turning back to them with a frightened look in his eyes. “Please, do not speak to them, or to any of us.”

“Look, we just need to know-”

(Y/N)’s gentle words were interrupted by a gruff voice. “The Magistrate wants to see you.” They both turned to see two masked guards behind them, whose hands were clutching their blasters as they stared them down. Clenching his jaw tightly, Din followed one of the guards down the city’s main road and he was mindful of the guard trailing close behind them. At the end of the road was a large guarded gate and flanking each side of the road were elevated cages, inside which were people groaning out in pain. Their cries were punctuated by the distinct sounds of electric shocks and Din averted his gaze from the sickening sight.

“Help us!”

“She’ll kill us all!”

Beside him, (Y/N) stopped dead in her tracks and stared up at the prisoners nearest to her; the captain’s horrified expression instantly reminded Din of the look that had come across her face just before her panic attack back on Nevarro, so he was quick to get her attention. “(Y/N)? Alor’ad, c’mon…” He urged, and her eyes lingered on the prisoners for a moment before she looked forward and fell in step with him.

The guards opened the gate and allowed them to walk through into a beautiful garden; they stood on a narrow stone walkway over a large pond that was surrounded by countless trees and plants, a stark contrast to the dilapidated city that they’d just walked through. Near the end of the walkway stood a woman dressed in the robes of a magistrate; a droid guard stood several steps away as she tossed food into the calm waters of the pond for an unknown creature.

“Come forward,” The woman called out, and Din and (Y/N) exchanged a look before complying. They came to a stop closer to her, but she didn’t look up from her work as she continued. “You are a Mandalorian?”

“Yes.”

“And the woman?”

A fiery look in her eyes, (Y/N) snapped back, “I’m his partner. What business do you have with us?” In any other circumstance, Din would’ve been captivated by the captain’s authoritative tone but he was concerned that her aggression would only serve to raise tensions.

The magistrate looked over at the pair, her brow raised in curiosity as her eyes examined them. “I have a proposition that may interest you two.”

Din’s eyes narrowed underneath his helmet. “Our price is high.”

“This target is priceless.” The magistrate countered. “A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”

Ahsoka Tano, Din thought to himself, an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. (Y/N) stiffened beside him and he found himself slowly replying, “That’s…a difficult task.”

“One that you’re well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

Din suppressed his sigh of frustration and shrugged. “As I said, our price is high.”

The magistrate gestured for the droid guard to come closer, accepting the long metal spear from it and holding it out towards Din. “What do you make of this?”

Together, Din and (Y/N) stepped forward and he hesitated a moment before accepting the spear; it was lighter than it appeared and when he tapped it against his vambrace, a familiar ringing echo filled the garden. “Beskar.”

“Pure beskar, like your armor. Kill the Jedi and it’s yours.”

He bit his bottom lip, a trait seemingly picked up from his partner, before gruffly replying, “Where do we find this Jedi?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of them were escorted back through the city to the main gate, their eyes trained on the guard in front of them while they walked past the caged prisoners and frightened residents. Once at the gate, the guard stood beside them and wrinkled his nose when he spotted the child’s head poking out of his satchel.

“What is that thing?”

Din’s nostrils flared in anger but he kept his voice level as he replied, “I keep it around for luck.”

The guard shrugged his shoulder. “Well, you’re gonna need it where you’re headed.” His eyes drifted away from Din to focus on (Y/N). “You got a good luck charm too, sweetheart?”

“I make my own luck,” The captain answered tersely and Din urged her forward before either of them could do anything to the guard that they’d end up regretting later. Once they were far enough away from the city’s gate, (Y/N) heaved a frustrated sigh. “Nice wordplay back there; you got the Jedi’s last known location without agreeing to the deal. But that magistrate…I don’t know if she’s Imperial or not but as soon as we find Ahsoka Tano, I’m going back and helping those people.”

Looking over at (Y/N), Din gave her a firm nod. “You won’t be alone.”

The three of them slowly made their way through the barren landscape of Corvus; Din’s pulse rifle was clutched in his hand and (Y/N) had drawn her blaster, but neither of them spotted any signs of the elusive Jedi. After about an hour of hunting, Din detected a faint rustling in the distance and was quick to place his free hand on the captain’s arm to halt her; he gestured towards the line of dead trees before them and she silently nodded, taking his pulse rifle and slinging it over her shoulder. Din took the child out of his satchel, setting him down on a nearby boulder before pulling out his scope and scanning the horizon. He didn’t spot anything at first but when he looked harder, he finally noticed the two large creatures peacefully grazing in the distance.

“False alarm,” Din sighed, lowering his scope and tucking it back into his pouch. “I-”

(Y/N)’s warning shout mixed with a loud electric hum made him spin around, reflexively bringing up his arm to deflect the two laser swords that were bearing down on his helmeted head. The laser sword-wielding Togruta continued attacking and it was all Din could do to block her strikes with his vambraces; the moment he found an opening, he activated his flamethrower and aimed it at the Jedi, watching as she blocked the flames with her cloak and flipped out of the way. Just as her feet touched the ground, he shot his grappling hook at her and bound her arms to her sides, but the Jedi merely smiled and jumped straight into the air. She flipped over a tree branch high above and pulled him up with her, forcing him to quickly cut himself loose.

Din drew his blaster and turned, bringing his free hand up in a placating gesture as he shouted, “Ahsoka Tano!” The Jedi froze, her laser swords still raised. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”

Ahsoka’s blue eyes looked past him and her brow furrowed as she deactivated her laser swords. She slowly straightened her posture, and Din decided it was safe to holster his blaster when she glanced back at him with the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I hope it’s about him.”

He turned, following her gaze to where the child sat atop the boulder and hurrying forward when he spotted (Y/N) clambering to her feet beside it. “You okay, alor’ad?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” With a smile of thanks, (Y/N) accepted his hand and stood, wincing a little as she rubbed the small of her back. “Some kind of force pushed me back before I could draw my blaster…”

“Sorry about that,” The Jedi walked up to them and held out her hand towards the captain. “Ahsoka Tano.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” The two women shook hands and (Y/N) glanced over at Din with a melancholy look in her eyes. “It looks like our quest’s just about over.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen
The Jedi

Darkness had fallen soon after they’d found Ahsoka, and they decided to set up camp for the night. The Jedi had requested time alone to communicate with the child, so (Y/N) and Din built a fire before walking a little way’s away; she sat perched on top of a boulder, her legs dangling in the air as she watched her partner pace back and forth before her. I wonder what the little guy’s telling her, (Y/N) thought to herself as she nervously bit her lip, her eyes trained on the Jedi and the child in the distance. She was grateful that they’d finally managed to find a Jedi, one of the child’s own, but she couldn’t help but feel sad that they’d soon have to say goodbye.

Noticing that Ahsoka was finally looking their way, (Y/N) leapt down from the boulder and walked alongside Din back to the fire; she sat across from the Jedi while her partner stood beside her. “Has he been speaking? Do…do you understand him?”

Ahsoka glanced at the child sitting beside her before looking up at Din. “In a way. Grogu and I can feel each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?” (Y/N) asked, raising a surprised brow when she saw the child turn to her with an excited coo.

“Yes, that’s his name.”

Beside (Y/N), Din’s helmet tilted to the side in contemplation. “Grogu.”

The child looked up at Din with another enthusiastic coo and (Y/N) hid her smile behind her hand before glancing over at the Jedi; her eyes were sad as she watched the child beside her and finally spoke. “He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant…many Masters trained him over the years. At the end of the Clone Wars, when the Empire rose to power, he was hidden.” (Y/N) did her best to disguise her discomfort from her companions and Din moved to sit beside her while Ahsoka continued. “Someone took him from the temple. Then, his memory becomes…dark. He seemed lost. Alone.”

The Jedi’s expression was withdrawn as she spoke, and (Y/N) got the sense that she was talking about more than Grogu; the child in question looked tired, his head beginning to nod and his eyes becoming heavy. In the silence, (Y/N) glanced over at Din only to see that he was already looking at her and without a thought, she reached over and took his gloved hand in hers. His fingers squeezed hers as they both turned back to face Ahsoka.

“I’ve only known one other being like this: a wise Jedi Master named Yoda.” Glancing up at Din, Ahsoka asked, “Can he still wield the Force?”

Din’s helmet tilted to the side. “You mean his powers?”

That made her smile a little. “The Force is what gives him his powers. It’s an energy field created by all living things, and to wield it takes a great deal of training and discipline.”

“I’ve seen him do things that I can’t explain.” Din’s fingers tightened around (Y/N)’s. “My task was to bring him to a Jedi.”

“The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

(Y/N) suppressed her sigh of exasperation. “So did the Empire, but it still hunts him. He…he needs your help.”

Ahsoka was silent for several moments, as if wrestling with herself about what to do, before looking down at the fast-asleep Grogu. “Let him sleep…I’ll test him in the morning.” She stood, and the two of them did the same. “You both should rest as well. I’ll return here at first light.”

With a brief farewell, the Jedi disappeared into the darkness and left the three of them alone. (Y/N) lifted the sleeping child into her arms before sitting on the ground with her back against the rock, cradling him to her chest and running a gentle hand over his wrinkled forehead. “Poor little guy. I wish I could say I didn’t know how lonely his life’s been, but that would be a lie.”

“The Empire really did a number on all of us, didn’t it?” Din exhaled, lowering himself to sit on the ground beside her and when she didn’t reply, he lightly nudged her shoulder with his own. “Hey. Everything’s gonna be okay, alor’ad, you’ll see. The kid… he’s gonna finally be with someone who can help him with his powers.”

Nodding, (Y/N) looked over at her partner with a brow raised in curiosity. “So, what exactly can the little guy do? In all the time I’ve been with you two, I haven’t seen any of his powers…”

“He can move objects with his mind and he can heal severe injuries, but his abilities make him tire easily.” While Din spoke, she tried and failed to conceal her own yawn, and he chuckled. “Speaking of which, you should get some sleep. I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brow as she tried making herself more comfortable against the stone. “Easier said than done, unfortunately; I don’t think either of us are gonna get much rest tonight-”

“C’mere.” Her partner’s soft words interrupted her sentence and before she could react, his arm was wrapping around her and pulling her to rest against his torso; his beskar-clad body was surprisingly warm and comfortable, and she found herself resting her tired head against his shoulder. “Better?”

She hummed in approval, too exhausted to argue or feel embarrassed about being so close to the Mandalorian; with her eyes growing heavier, she snuggled closer to Din and smiled a little when she felt his arm tightening around her. “G’night, Din.”

“’Night,” Din whispered back. Just before (Y/N) succumbed to sleep, however, she could’ve sworn that she heard her partner quietly murmur, “Ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Ahsoka Tano returned and led them further into the forest of deadened trees to a small clearing. (Y/N) rested her hands on her hips and stood beside Din, the both of them closely watching Ahsoka stand across from Grogu; the Jedi held a small stone in her hands and (Y/N)’s eyes widened in awe as she made the stone drift through the air towards the child, who caught it easily in his tiny clawed hands.

“I’ve flown across the galaxy and seen a lot of strange things out there, but nothing like this.” Beside (Y/N), Din nodded his helmeted head but didn’t reply, all of his attention focused on Grogu.

Ahsoka then asked Grogu to use his powers to return the stone to her, and (Y/N) frowned in concern when she saw the child’s large green ears begin to droop, almost as if he was…scared, she thought with a pang of sympathy. He ignored the Jedi’s prompting and dropped the stone, his wide eyes downcast as he let out a sad sort of coo. Ahsoka, with a look of understanding in her eyes, walked over and knelt before Grogu, gently holding one of his hands between her fingers. “I sense much fear in you.” The child stared up at her and after a long moment, the Jedi stood and walked over to them. “He’s hidden his abilities over the years.” She glanced between Din and Grogu. “Let’s try something else. Come over here.”

Nobody moved, and Din let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s stubborn.”

“I think she’s talking to you, partner.”

Din’s helmet quickly turned to face the two of them, and the corner of Ahsoka’s mouth curved into a small smile. “I want to see if he’ll listen to you.”

With a snort of amusement, he moved to stand beside Ahsoka. “That would be a first.”

“I like firsts. Good or bad, they’re always memorable,” The Jedi quipped and handed him the stone Grogu had dropped, and (Y/N) ducked her head to hide her amusement while she continued. “Now, hold the stone out in the palm of your hand and tell him to lift it up.”

The Mandalorian glanced over at (Y/N) and she gave him a nod of encouragement, silently taking note of his awkwardness when he looked back at the child before him and did as Ahsoka instructed. “All right, kid. Lift the stone.”

Just as he’d done during Ahsoka’s attempt, Grogu merely stood and stared up at Din; the Jedi merely gave him a patient smile. “Grogu.”

“…Grogu,” Din called out, and the child’s ears instantly perked up. “Come on, take the stone.” When the child didn’t move, Din sighed in frustration and looked over at Ahsoka as he tossed the stone aside. “You see? I told you, he’s stubborn.”

Ahsoka looked unfazed. “Try connecting with him.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, watching as her partner returned his attention to Grogu; they stared at each other for several long moments before Din reached for his pocket and withdrew the child’s favorite silver sphere. Grogu’s interest was instantly piqued, and Din held the sphere out towards him. “Grogu, do you want this?” The child excitedly cooed. “Well, go ahead. That’s right, take it.” All three of them watched as Grogu raised his small hand. “Come on, you can have it.”

The sphere suddenly flew through the air and into the child’s hand, and (Y/N) did nothing to hide her amazement at his incredible accomplishment. “Grogu, that was wonderful!”

“Good job! Good job, kid!” Din and (Y/N) both made their way over to where the happy child stood and knelt down; while she rubbed one of Grogu’s large ears, Din turned to her with obvious excitement in his voice. “You see that? I knew he could do it.”

(Y/N) beamed at him but before she could reply, Ahsoka’s voice filled the clearing. “He’s formed a strong attachment to you.” Sensing that something was wrong, she looked over at the Jedi in time to see her shake her head. “I cannot train him.”

“What?” Din’s earlier happiness was gone, replaced with barely-concealed outrage as he got to his feet. “Why not? You’ve seen what he can do.”

Ahsoka’s face was drawn and her blue eyes filled with concern as she replied, “His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears…his anger…”

“All the more reason to train him!”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “With you, he can learn to control those emotions-”

“No.” The Jedi’s mouth was pressed in a firm line. “I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight. To the best of us.” (Y/N) looked down, feeling as though she’d intruded upon something private, and ran a hand over Grogu’s wrinkled brow while Ahsoka continued. “I will not start this child down that path; better to let his abilities fade.” She sighed. “I’ve delayed too long. I must go back to the village.”

“The magistrate sent us to kill you.” (Y/N)’s head snapped up at her partner’s harsh words, watching as Ahsoka stopped dead in her tracks and resisting the urge to rest her hand on the blaster at her hip. “But we didn’t agree to anything. We’ll help you with your problem if you see to it that Grogu’s properly trained.”

The Jedi glanced away from Din to look at (Y/N), whose hand was still resting on Grogu’s head. She silently pleaded with Ahsoka, knowing that she could sense her emotions through the Force, and she exhaled as Ahsoka finally gave her a nod. “Fine. The three of us will need to make a plan…”

With Grogu nestled in her arms, (Y/N) walked alongside the Mandalorian and the Jedi as they made their way back towards the city of Calodan. The charred ground proved to be a challenge for her to walk steadily on, which was why Din’s gloved hand was currently resting on the small of her back. At least, that’s the excuse he’d given her; she kept her silence on the matter, but she quietly believed that her partner needed something to ground him, to reassure him that once Ahsoka took Grogu to be trained he wouldn’t be alone again. That makes two of us, she thought wistfully, holding the babbling child closer to her chest and listening to her companions talk.

“She has a small army of guards armed with A-350 blaster rifles, two HK-87 assassin droids and a hired gunfighter. He reads ex-military to me.”

“I used to deal with his type all the time back when I was a smuggler.” (Y/N) interjected, wrinkling her nose as she recalled the way the gunfighter had looked at her. “He could’ve very-well worked for a smuggling crew or crime syndicate before that magistrate.”

Din nodded and turned to Ahsoka. “Combined, not even your laser swords would be able to protect you from all that firepower.”

“True.” The Jedi shrugged. “But don’t underestimate the magistrate either.”

“Who is she? She offered us a staff of pure besker to kill you.”

Pursing her lips, Ahsoka eventually replied, “Morgan Elsbeth. During the Clone Wars, her people were massacred. She survived, and let her anger fuel an industry which helped build the Imperial Starfleet. She plundered worlds, destroying them in the process.”

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened in anger, realizing that her earlier instincts about the magistrate had been correct. She could feel Din’s fingers flexing against her back as he remarked, “Yeah, it looks like she’s still in business.”

“When you two were in the city, did you see any prisoners?”

“There were three villagers strung up just outside the inner gate.” (Y/N) tried not to imagine their terrified faces while she continued. “They were being tortured.”

Ahsoka nodded, her determined gaze meeting theirs. “We must find a way to free them.”

“A smuggler, a Mandalorian, and a Jedi? They’ll never see it coming…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once dusk finally settled and they secured Grogu inside the Razor Crest, the trio enacted their plan. Ahsoka would draw the guards into the city while (Y/N) and Din rescued the prisoners, then she would confront Magistrate Morgan Elsbeth; as badly as (Y/N) wanted to take on the evil woman herself, she recognized that this was a matter that the Jedi needed to deal with herself.

The sounds of shouting and blaster fire filled the quiet night air, and (Y/N) looked over at Din just in time to see him nod. “That’s our cue.” He pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against and held his arm out to her in a silent invitation, tilting his helmet to the side when she only smiled to herself. “What is it?”

“Once all this is over, I really should look into getting a jetpack of my own. I mean, aren’t you getting tired of lugging me around all the time?”

(Y/N) couldn’t see her partner’s face, but she could imagine that he was rolling his eyes as he stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’m not.”

For some reason, the honesty in Din’s answer combined with his strong hold on her waist caused her heart to skip a beat and she almost forgot to hold on when he launched them straight into the air. They flew over the walls of the city and quickly dropped down in front of the inner gate, kicking both guards in the heads as they landed; the guards reached for their dropped blasters but (Y/N) and Din were quick to shoot them dead. At the sound of approaching footsteps, they both spun around to face the older man from the day before; his hands were raised in surrender and judging by the way he kept glancing over at the imprisoned villagers, he’d been trying to help them too.

They lowered their blasters and the man nodded, gesturing over towards the electrified cages. Din and the man disabled the cages and quickly began helping the weakened villagers down to the ground; seeing that their mission was just about over, (Y/N) hurried down the main road to retrieve the paultron Ahsoka had borrowed from the Mandalorian. Just as she was reaching down to pick it up, though, an arm grabbed her around the waist and yanked her back up, and she felt the cool barrel of a blaster rifle against the side of her neck before she could even think to fight back.

“Good to see you again, pilot.” The gunfighter forced her to walk forward as his hot breath fanned over her neck, but all (Y/N) could focus on were the people at the end of the road. She watched with relief while the villagers were ushered into a nearby home, and she felt her heart begin to race when Din turned towards them; despite the distance, she could still see her partner’s body tense as he slowly took a step forward. Behind him, Ahsoka appeared on the top of the inner gate before jumping down to confront the magistrate, and the gunfighter called out, “So, you threw in with the Jedi.”

“Looks that way.”

The gunfighter chuckled at Din’s clipped response, the sound mingling with the echo of battle behind the inner gate. “Who do you think’s gonna win? Could be your side…could be my side…” He stopped walking, tugging (Y/N) closer to his chest. Her gaze met the visor of Din’s helmet and she tried to wordlessly tell him that she had a plan, but it was impossible for her to know if he understood. “I got no quarrel with you, Mandalorian.”

“Then let my partner go. Now.”

(Y/N)’s hands began to sweat in anticipation as she waited for the opportune moment, and the gunfighter continued. “You and I, we’re a lot alike. Willing to lay our lives down for the right cause…which this is not.” The intense sounds of battle were suddenly extinguished, the reverberation of a beskar spear hitting the ground echoing through the air. “Sounds like you win.”

The gunfighter carefully lowered his blaster rifle but at the last minute, he quickly took aim at Din. (Y/N), who’d been expecting his action, knocked the rifle out of his hand and stomped her boot down onto his foot. Her attack had taken the gunfighter by surprise and when he loosened his hold on her waist, she used his lack of balance to her advantage, seizing his arm and using the momentum to flip him over her shoulder. The moment he crashed to the ground he began reaching for his blaster rifle, and (Y/N) was quick to draw her blaster and shoot him in the middle of his chest.

Breathing heavily, (Y/N) turned away from the dead gunfighter and trudged up the road to where Din stood; his blaster was also drawn and he seemed to be rooted to the spot as she stood before him. “I told you I knew his type: a cocky gunfighter with a bad habit of underestimating everyone around him.” She furrowed her brow in concern when Din didn’t move or reply. “You okay, Din?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good. I-”

“Behind you!”

Before (Y/N) could react, Din turned and fired his blaster at the assassin droid on the rooftop; its metal body tumbled and fell to the ground, and (Y/N) glanced over at the older man with a smile of gratitude. Another successful mission completed, she thought to herself, making her way over to the freed villagers to help tend to their wounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until sunrise that (Y/N) and Din stood beside Ahsoka at Calodan’s main gate. The Jedi was pleased, both that the village was free of Morgan Elsbeth’s control and that she’d gotten the information she’d needed from the magistrate. So, it was with a bright smile that she held out the beskar spear for Din to take. “I believe this was your payment.”

“No, I can’t accept,” Din shook his head. “We didn’t finish the job.”

Ahsoka’s smile didn’t fade. “No. But this belongs with a Mandalorian.” With a hesitant hand, Din accepted the spear and gave the Jedi a short nod; her gaze turned wistful as she glanced between the two of them. “Where’s your little friend?”

(Y/N)’s heart dropped in her chest; with all the excitement of saving the village, she’d nearly forgotten the reason they’d come to Corvus in the first place. Based on the tone of her partner’s modulated voice, it seemed that he’d forgotten as well. “Back at the ship. Wait here…we’ll go get him.”

Walking side-by-side, (Y/N) and Din made their way back to the Razor Crest in complete silence. He lowered the ship’s ramp with his vambrace and once they trudged up into the cargo hold, he reached behind himself and took his jetpack off while she slowly approached the sleeping compartment. Her shaky hand reached out and pressed a button on the control panel, and (Y/N) bit her lip to stop it trembling when her eyes landed on Grogu sleeping in his hammock.

Din moved to stand beside her, his gloved hand stretching forward to gently shake the child and his wide eyes blinked open as the Mandalorian choked out, “Wake up, buddy. It’s…time to say goodbye.” Grogu let out a sleepy coo and Din carefully lifted him out of the hammock, holding him in the crook of his arm while he brought his free hand up to rub his large ear.

(Y/N), wanting to give the pair some privacy, turned to climb up the ladder into the cockpit but stopped when she felt Din’s hand slide into hers; she turned to look at him and while he didn’t say anything, she realized in an instant that he couldn’t say goodbye alone. She gave him a barely discernable nod and allowed him to help her climb into the sleeping compartment, crossing her legs and watching as he sat on the edge of the bed. Grogu was nestled in between them, still half-asleep as he reached a tiny clawed hand forward to hold one of Din’s fingers, and it took all of her willpower not to cry.

They all sat in silence for several moments, until (Y/N) summoned her strength and began to sing; it was a traditional Naboo farewell song, the wordless notes soft and low as they filled the air around them, and she was acutely aware that the last time she’d sung the song was the night she’d left her beloved home world. While she sang, Grogu’s ears drooped in sadness and she gently took his free hand between her fingers, holding it gently as she continued the song.

As the last note of her song faded, (Y/N) wiped away a stray tear and smiled down at the child. “Ahsoka’s gonna take great care of you, little guy. You’re gonna train really hard and someday you’ll become a powerful Jedi, just like her.”

Grogu smiled up at her and let out a small coo, and she looked up to meet the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet; she didn’t need to see his face to understand how distraught he was, so she brought her free hand up to rest on the un-armored part of his arm, hoping that it would be enough to comfort him. To her surprise, her partner responded by leaning forward and resting his helmeted forehead against hers; it was an action that felt strangely intimate and her heart pounded in her chest as she briefly wondered if it was a part of his Mandalorian culture, but the thought was set aside when Din pulled away and stood, his voice low and hoarse as he said, “Ahsoka’s waiting for us.”

(Y/N) nodded, climbing out of the sleeping compartment and grabbing Grogu’s satchel, filling it with the spare clothes she’d sewn and some ration packs she knew the child enjoyed. Slinging the satchel over her shoulder, she stood and watched Din fuss over the child’s wrinkled collar before following him down the ramp of the ship.

“You’re like parents to him.” (Y/N)’s head shot up, her gaze immediately landing on the Jedi standing a little ways away from the ship’s ramp. “I cannot train him.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed and Din’s voice was tight with frustration as they moved to stand before her. “You made us a promise, and we held up our end.”

Ahsoka pursed her lips, reaching forward to take one of Grogu’s small hands before speaking. “There is one possibility. Go to the planet Tython; there, you will find the ancient ruins of a temple that has a strong connection to the Force. Place Grogu on the Seeing Stone at the top of the mountain.”

“Then what?” (Y/N) asked, her eyes darting between Grogu and the Jedi.

“Then Grogu may choose his path.” Ahsoka smiled at the child and looked back up at them. “If he reaches out through the Force, there’s a chance a Jedi may sense his presence and come searching for him.” Again, her expression twisted in pain as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Then again…there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Din nodded once. “Thank you.”

“May the Force be with you.”

The Mandalorian made his way back up the ramp and just as (Y/N) began to follow, she stopped and turned back to the Jedi. “And also with you. Thank you for helping Grogu, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka’s eyes examined hers and the corner of her mouth curved into a small smile. “You carry too many burdens on your shoulders, Captain (Y/L/N); I once knew another woman of the Naboo who struggled in a similar way.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders tensed at the mention of her home world, but she bit her lip and hesitated a moment before asking, “And how did she deal with it all?”

“She put her faith in others,” The Jedi replied and inclined her head towards the ship behind (Y/N). “And she understood that sometimes we cannot carry our burdens alone.”

Considering Ahsoka’s words for a moment, (Y/N) nodded in thanks before turning and making her way back up the ramp of the ship. Maybe that other woman from Naboo was onto something, she admitted to herself, thoughts of her beloved partner filling her mind while the ramp closed behind her.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen
The Meadow

It was clear that the three of them needed a break. After their chaotic adventure with Ahsoka Tano and the whirlwind of emotions that came along with it, Din realized that they all could do with a small break before journeying to the Jedi Temple on Tython; (Y/N) was quick to agree with his suggestion and while she and Grogu rested, he scanned the charts until he came across a small uninhabited moon. According to the charts, the nearby moon was home to grass fields and wildflowers, and it didn’t take Din long to realize that it reminded him of the captain’s stories of the Lake Country on Naboo. So, he punched in the coordinates and piloted the ship to the moon, hoping that his two companions would enjoy their layover.

After entering the moon’s upper atmosphere and initiating the landing sequence, Din made his way down to the cargo hold. (Y/N) was already awake, sitting on the edge of her cot and reorganizing her small sewing kit, and she looked up at him with a brow raised in curiosity. “Where are we? You haven’t flown us to another ice planet, have you?”

Din chuckled. “Take a look for yourself, alor’ad.” He strode over to the ship’s control panel and pressed a button, watching the ship’s side ramp lower and smiling a little beneath his helmet when the captain moved to stand beside him. As they walked out onto the extended ramp, he couldn’t help but admire their stunning surroundings; the Razor Crest sat in the middle of an expansive grassy field littered with countless colorful wildflowers and the sun was high in the clear-blue sky, which was riddled with fluffy-white clouds. He glanced over at (Y/N), taking in the awestruck expression on her face and feeling his heart flutter in his chest when she finally looked at him.

“It looks so much like Naboo, almost exactly how I remembered it as a child. I haven’t…no one’s ever…I…” Her voice faltered as she smiled brightly up at him. “Thank you, Din.”

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Din gestured towards the open area before them. “There’s a couple of minor repairs I need to make on the outside of the Crest, so I’ll join you and the kid for lunch in a little bit.”

Din could hear Grogu’s excited giggles and (Y/N)’s peals of laughter from the opposite side of the ship while he worked, and the happy sounds brought a content smile to his face. The child had been through so much over the past several months and he deserved a break from it all; and we both deserve a proper day with him before we say goodbye, he thought as his smile began to falter. He hadn’t expected the conclusion of his quest to hurt so much, but he was grateful that he wouldn’t have to face it alone.

The repairs were soon completed and after he stowed his toolkit away in the cargo hold, Din decided to take his armor off before joining (Y/N) and Grogu for lunch; the sun had beat down onto the beskar while he worked and made him uncomfortably warm beneath the armor, and since they were on an uninhabited moon, he determined that it would be safe to remove it for a short while. All except the helmet, he thought with a small sigh, ignoring the words of Bo-Katan as he took off his gloves and rolled up the sleeves of his undershirt before heading down the ship’s ramp.

“There you are, Din! I’ve had a hell of a time saving your food from Grogu here; seriously, where the kriff does the little guy put it all?”

“I don’t know, I…” Din’s amused reply died on his lips when he looked up at where (Y/N) and Grogu were seated; the captain was wearing the dress she’d spent weeks creating and if he didn’t know any better, he’d have no trouble believing that she was a princess. The golden-yellow gown hung off her shoulders, with two straps of material holding the top in place, and the material synched at her waist before pooling down around her legs. To complete the stunning look, she’d fixed her (Y/H/C) hair into an intricate style that accentuated the slope of her bare neck and upper chest. “You, ah…”

(Y/N) glanced down at her appearance before looking up with a bashful smile. “Oh, I put the final touches on it last night before bed. It’s, um, it’s not exactly like how I imagined it in my head, since I didn’t have access to all the materials I needed and there aren’t any matching slippers like there’d normally be, but…” She rambled on before nervously biting her lip, making Din choke back a groan at the sight. “Be honest, Din, how does it look?”

Din lowered himself to sit beside her on the grass and hesitantly reached forward to hold the material of her skirt between his fingers. “If this is what you can create with a travel-sized sewing kit in the cargo hold of an ex-bounty hunter’s ship, then I can’t even imagine what you’d be able to do in a shop of your own.” Smiling, he looked up and met her anxious gaze. “It’s beautiful, alor’ad. You’ve really got a gift.”

Her eyes gleamed with pride at his praise but just as she opened her mouth to reply, Grogu’s babbling grew louder; they looked down to see him waddling towards the container of food sitting beside Din, and (Y/N) giggled before picking him up. “I already told you, little guy, that’s Din’s food!” The child babbled and the captain shook her head. “Yeah, I know it smells good but you already ate your lunch; you wouldn’t wanna spoil your dinner, would you?” Grogu let out a snort of derision and Din couldn’t hold back his laughter, even when (Y/N) gave him a pointed glare. “Very helpful, Din.”

“Oh c’mon, you’ve gotta admit that was pretty funny,” Din grinned beneath his helmet and reached into the container of food, pulling out the half-finished package of cookies the child had gotten back on Nevarro; the child’s eyes widened and his large ears immediately perked up as the captain suppressed her amused smile. “Okay, kid, you can have one cookie before naptime but that’s it. Got it?”

Grogu cooed in delight when Din handed him a cookie and they watched as he quickly scarfed down the entire thing; he wriggled in (Y/N)’s arms and when she set him down, he ambled over to lay down on top of his satchel, his eyelids already heavy with sleep. “What a little hustler!” The captain looked back at him with an exasperated smile on her face. “And you, the fear-inducing ex-bounty hunter, went and fell for his hustle. Remind me again why I’m supposed to concede that bounty hunters are better than smugglers?”

Scoffing at her teasing, Din began taking the food out of the container. “It was a tactical decision, since the kid went through a lot on…on Corvus…” His good mood dampened a little at the mention of their most recent adventure and when he glanced over at (Y/N), her smile had begun to falter. Cursing himself for bringing up Corvus, Din awkwardly cleared his throat and gestured to the food. “You’re not gonna freak out and sit behind me while I eat again, are you?”

“Nope! I came up with a much better idea…” (Y/N) reached into the pocket of her dress and withdrew a long piece of material with a bright grin. “…a blindfold! I’ll wear this so that you can take off your helmet and enjoy your food in comfort, maybe feel a little sun on your face while the little guy naps. But it’s okay if you wanna keep your helmet on; do whatever makes you comfortable, Din.”

“I…I’ll take my helmet off.”

Din watched in awe as the captain nodded and fastened the material over her eyes, tying the ends into a bow behind her head and shrugging her shoulders. “I can’t see a thing in this. How does it look?”

“Oh, very fashionable, it matches your dress and everything.”

“I’m from Naboo, Din, of course it matches the dress,” (Y/N) jokingly retorted, resting her hands on the grass behind her and leaning back with a smile. “What kind of seamstress do you take me for?”

Chuckling, Din reached up and slowly removed his helmet, sucking in a breath of clean air when the breeze caressed his uncovered face. The sun felt comfortably warm on his skin and as the smell of the wildflowers enveloped him, he looked over at his partner and took in the sight of her with his own eyes. With a soft smile on his face, he finally replied, “Only the best, alor’ad.”

Her breath hitched at the sound of his unmodulated voice and his brow rose in surprise, but she spoke up before he could think more on it. “Y-you should eat before your food gets cold…”

While Din ate, he and (Y/N) chatted about anything and everything: the different ships they’d flown, the strangest planets they’d ever visited and the most interesting things they’d ever discovered on their journeys. He quickly found that sitting beside the captain and talking with her without his helmet on was one of the most freeing experiences of his life, as if the weight had quite literally been taken off his shoulders; he was able to see all her smiles with his own eyes, hear all her laughs and jokes with his own ears, and brush against her soft hand with his own glove-less fingers. If this is somehow all a dream then I never wanna wake up, Din thought to himself as he listened to (Y/N) talk.

“So yeah, that’s how I learned the hard way never to play sabacc after three snorts of spotchka.” (Y/N) laughed. “What about you? Any embarrassing drunk stories?”

“Sorry, but no. I’ve never really been much of a drinker.” Din’s smile widened mischievously as he continued. “Even if I was, though, I could totally out-drink you; bounty hunters are notoriously better at handling their alcohol than smugglers.”

The captain sat up straighter and if her eyes weren’t covered by her blindfold, she’d undoubtedly be rolling them at his teasing comment. “You, Din Djarin, are entirely too competitive.”

“This coming from the woman who just admitted to getting drunk and challenging a known sabacc hustler to a round…”

Din chuckled as (Y/N) moved to playfully swat at his arm but she missed, the momentum of her action causing her to topple forward into him and send him falling backwards onto the grass. Their laughter filled the air, and it wasn’t until it finally began to die down that he realized how compromising their position was; (Y/N) was sprawled across his torso, her face only inches away from his own, and his hands were resting firm on her hips. Feeling his heart hammering away in his chest and his face beginning to warm, Din opened his mouth to apologize but no words came out as he continued to stare up at her.

Above him, (Y/N)’s lips quirked into a nervous sort of smile but she made no move to get up; he silently cursed his Creed, as it prevented him from looking into her eyes and seeing what she was thinking. “Back on Nevarro, you called me ‘ner cyar’ika alor’ad,’ and then…you said the same thing when I was falling asleep on Corvus. What…? What does it mean, Din?”

“Ner cyar’ika alor’ad…” Din repeated, watching with widening eyes as his partner anxiously bit her lip. “…Means ‘my darling captain.’”

“...Oh.”

Din Djarin really wasn’t an impulsive man. No matter what situation he was placed in, he always weighed his options and considered the consequences of any possible course of action. But in that moment, with (Y/N) so close to him and absolutely no beskar separating them, he couldn’t stop himself from slowly sitting up and holding her securely in his lap. Swallowing hard, he lowly murmured, “Keep your eyes closed, alor’ad.” The captain, whose hands had moved to rest on his biceps, gave him a slight nod; he brought one hand up to the bow tied behind her head and without a moment’s hesitation, he gently untied it and let the blindfold fall. Her eyes were indeed closed and after tossing the blindfold to the side, Din placed a trembling hand on the skin of her cheek, silently marveling at how soft it was. “(Y/N)… ner cyar’ika alor’ad…” His thumb traced the outline of her cheekbone and he watched as she leaned into his touch. “Kiss me?”

With her eyes still closed, (Y/N)’s lips curved into a brilliant smile and her hands trailed up to tenderly hold his face; he’d been haunted by her touch since their adventure on Nevarro and feeling it again made him release a shuddering breath against her fingers. She leaned forward and their breaths mingled together for an agonizing moment before her lips finally met his, and Din could’ve sworn that his heart stopped beating while his own eyes slid closed; her lips were softer than he ever could’ve imagined and as they brushed against his, he timidly began kissing back. One arm wrapped around the captain’s waist to hold her flush against him while his hand moved to thread into her hair, causing her to release a sigh of satisfaction against his lips.

Din was the first to finally pull away, panting as he rested his forehead against (Y/N)’s and stared into her face; his partner’s lips were swollen and her hair was a twisted mess but he’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. A little out of breath, the captain huffed out a quiet laugh as her arms moved to wrap around his neck. “That was even better than I imagined.”

“You…you’ve imagined that before?” Din asked in disbelief, his brow furrowing as his eyes searched her face. “How long have you…?”

“Pretty much since the moment you asked me to join your crew.” She ducked her head and flashed him an embarrassed sort of smile. “What can I say? You’re a very charming man, Din.”

He held her chin and gently coaxed her head up, his fingers lightly tracing the features of her face. “Gar cuyir bid mesh’la, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

Before Din had a chance to translate his words for her, (Y/N) surged forward and captured his lips in another, more searing kiss. He felt himself fall backwards onto the grass as he matched her fast pace and too soon, she broke away to begin pressing kisses along his jawline, only stopping to murmur, “I love it when you speak Mando’a to me, Din, never stop doing that…”

“Anything, alor’ad,” Din breathed, his head tipping back as her lips trailed down to his neck. “Cyare alor’ad, anything for you. I-” Her lips brushed over a particularly sensitive patch of skin right below his ear and he moaned. “Maker, you’re amazing. Where the kriff did you learn to kiss like this?”

(Y/N) pressed a final kiss to his neck and pulled back far enough for him to see her amused smile. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Smugglers are notoriously better kissers than bounty hunters.”

“Mir'sheb,” Releasing a sigh of exasperation, Din flipped them over so that he was above her and she laughed. “Now who’s the competitive one?”

“It looks like we both are…” The captain’s eyes were shut tight, as if she was fighting the urge to open them, but her smile was soft as her fingers threaded through his hair. “I guess that goes to show that you and I…well, we’re perfect for each other, Din.”

Din’s heart swelled at her words; hearing her vocalize what he himself had been feeling for a while made him feel a little lightheaded, as if he’d just woken up from a dream. But she was right there beneath him with a breathtaking smile illuminating her face and gentle fingers caressing his scalp, his dream at long last made real, and he couldn’t stop himself from tearing up as he replied, “Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

A tear fell from the corner of (Y/N)’s closed eye and Din gently wiped it away before pressing his lips against hers, their kiss slower than the others and full of promise. I don’t know what I did to deserve her, he thought as his lips brushed against hers, but accepting her job offer was the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen
The Tragedy

“We really…we really should stop, Din…” (Y/N) spoke in between kisses, a little breathless as the Mandalorian’s lips began brushing along her cheek and down her neck. “We’re supposed to be…ah…we’ve gotta work on some repairs…”

She could feel Din smirking against her collarbone as he replied, “Yeah? Then why’re your arms still around me?”

Sure enough, one of her arms was wrapped securely around his back, her hand clutching at his cowl, and her other arm was slung around his neck, her fingers carding through his soft hair over and over. At his teasing question, she felt her face begin to warm in embarrassment. “You’re such a mir’sheb.” Trailing her hand down to the side of his face, she coaxed his head up and clumsily sought out his lips in the dark but before she could kiss him, one of the ship’s alarms rang out. “Dank farrik!”

Din chuckled, the deep timbre of his voice causing her heartbeat to quicken; his unmodulated voice was intoxicating, so clear and strong, and she knew that she’d never grow tired of listening to it. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before extricating himself from her embrace and putting his helmet back on; a moment later, the lights inside the cockpit flickered back on to reveal her beskar-clad partner leaning over one of the control panels. “We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in a few, alor'ad.”

“Okay, I’ll go wake the little guy up.” (Y/N) patted Din on the arm before turning and making her way down into the cargo hold, a small smile on her face as she went.

For the past two days, it was as if she and Din were the only two people in the galaxy; they’d stolen kisses from one another in the darkness of the cockpit while Grogu slept and while he was awake, they’d resign themselves to lingering touches and soft-spoken words. She didn’t know what to classify their evolving relationship as and to be honest, she didn’t really care; she was happy with Din, truly happy, and that’s all that mattered to her.

“Hey there, little guy. Did you have a good nap?” With a smile, she picked the cooing child up out of his hammock and carried him up the ladder, setting him down on one of the passenger seats and handing him the small metal sphere. “There you go!” His large eyes widened in delight as he clutched it in his clawed hands and she chuckled, moving to stand beside the Mandalorian in the pilot’s seat. “Okay, I can take over now.”

“It’s all right, I’ve got it covered.”

(Y/N) arched a brow. “But it’s my turn to fly, remember?”

“I told you, I’ve got it covered. Why don’t you take a seat and relax a little?” There was something different about her partner’s voice as he spoke but she shrugged it off, turning to go sit in the other passenger seat. Din’s gloved hand suddenly shot out and latched onto her wrist to stop her and when she turned back around to see what he wanted, her jaw nearly dropped in shock; he was patting his beskar-covered thigh with his free hand and although the visor of his helmet was facing forward, she had a sneaking suspicion that he was closely watching her.

With her heart hammering in her chest, (Y/N) sat down on his thigh and wrapped a tentative arm around his shoulders. “…This is new.”

“Do you…um, do you…like it?”

Din’s newfound uncertainty made her smile and instead of answering, she reached down and positioned his free hand onto her waist before resting her head against the side of his helmet. His gloved fingers flexed and pressed firmly against her, holding her secure in his lap as the ship dropped out of hyperspace. “There’s Tython.” (Y/N) was silent for a moment, debating whether or not to say anything before finally making up her mind. “Do you think that any Jedi will come?”

Her partner exhaled through his nose, his fingers beginning to drum against her waist. “I don’t know; Ahsoka made it clear that hers is a dying race.” Rotating the seat around, they both watched Grogu as he played with his silver sphere and (Y/N) was struck by how innocent he looked. “But I hope one will, for the kid’s sake.”

“You mean Grogu.”

Upon hearing his name, the child’s head shot up and he cooed as his eyes widened in happiness. (Y/N) and Din both chuckled and when the child glanced back down, Din called out, “Grogu?” The child looked back up and as he chuckled again, she tried and failed to suppress her amused grin; with a glance at her, Din moved his hand away from the controls and towards Grogu. “Give me the ball.” The child looked unimpressed and immediately tried hiding the sphere. “Grogu, give me the ball. Come on.”

“Not used to dealing with someone as stubborn as you, huh, Din?”

“I deal with you, don’t I?” The Mandalorian’s dry retort made her grin only widen and as she watched, Grogu finally handed the sphere over. “Okay, here we go.” Din held the sphere between his thumb and forefinger just as he had back on Corvus. “You can have it, just like before.”

(Y/N) nodded in encouragement while Grogu began to raise his tiny clawed hand. “Grogu, come on. You can have it, little guy.”

The child raised his other hand and his eyes began to squint with effort; Din’s voice was impossibly soft as he spoke, “Come on.” In a flash, the ball flew out of Din’s grasp and into the child’s waiting hands. “Dank farrik!” He exclaimed in excitement, slapping his other thigh while (Y/N) pressed a happy kiss to the side of his helmet; the child dropped the ball down into his lap and cooed sadly, seemingly thinking that the two of them were angry, and her eyes widened in panic as Din hastily shook his head. “Hey, no, we’re not mad at you! You did good. I just…when the nice lady said you had training, I just…” (Y/N)’s elated mood dampened as she watched Din reach for the metal sphere and hand it back to Grogu before rotating the seat to face forward again. “You’re…very special, kid.”

With a heavy heart, (Y/N) gave Grogu a fleeting smile over Din’s shoulder. “We’re gonna find you that place you belong and they’re gonna take real good care of you, little guy.” She turned her attention back to Din, who was making himself look busy by pressing at different buttons; sensing his sadness, she made to get up from his lap but his hand tightened on her waist, preventing her from getting up. He doesn’t want anyone else to leave him, she thought to herself, moving her free hand to rest on top of his. “Din…”

“This is Tython,” Din announced to Grogu, his tone clipped and reserved. “That’s where we’re gonna try and find you a Jedi. But you have to agree to go with them if they want you to; understand?” He briefly glanced over his shoulder at Grogu before returning his gaze to the viewport in front of them. “Plus, we can’t train you. You’re too…powerful. Don’t you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff?” (Y/N) didn’t look, but she could hear the child’s disgruntled coo. “I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do.” It almost sounded as if her partner was trying to convince himself rather than Grogu. “You understand…right?”

The child cooed again and with a brief moment of hesitation, (Y/N) rested her head against Din’s helmet and murmured, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Din, I promise.” He didn’t say anything, but the hand on her waist pulled her even closer to his side.

Minutes later, they were entering the upper atmosphere of Tython and flying through its sky-blue skies; the planet was made up of rocky mountains covered in sparse vegetation, and it was clear that it was a presumably uninhabited planet. While they continued to fly over the surface of the planet, (Y/N) pointed to one of the larger mountains in the distance. “Looks like that’s the magic rock we’re supposed to take you to down there, little guy.”

Din tilted the joysticks to the left and they circled the steep mountain until he let out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, kid, I can’t land on the top. It’s too small. We’re gonna have to travel the last stretch with the windows down.”

“That…that was a terrible joke, Din.”

“Yeah, but you still laughed at it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they landed the Razor Crest onto a flat patch of ground, Din held Grogu in the crook of one arm and wrapped the other around (Y/N)’s waist before jetting through the sky towards the top of the mountain. The child squealed in delight while (Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut and clung to her partner; you’d think that I’d be used to flying like this by now, she thought as she bit her lip, silently thanking the Maker when their feet touched the ground.

Opening her eyes, (Y/N)’s gaze was immediately drawn to the large stone before them, taking note of the strange carvings along its side before glancing around. The three of them were surrounded by towering stone slabs, and she had no problem believing that the structure had once been a sacred Jedi temple.

“Well, I guess this is it.” Din let go of her waist and slowly approached the stone. “Does this look…Jedi to you? I guess you sit right here.” Grogu softly cooed as he carefully placed him on the top of the Seeing Stone. “Okay, here we go.”

The child blinked up at them and (Y/N) tilted her head in confusion. “So, how do we know if it’s working?”

Din shrugged. “I don’t know.” He glanced back at Grogu and gestured to the stone. “This is the Seeing Stone…are you seeing anything? Or are they supposed to see you?” She watched the Mandalorian switched on his helmet’s heat sensor and began circling the stone. “Maybe there’s some kind of control or something.”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Din, this is a Jedi Seeing Stone; I seriously doubt that they’d need a machine to use their powers.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve met a ton of Jedi in my life.” He replied, moving to stand beside her and sighing in frustration as the child’s attention was drawn away by a nearby butterfly. “Oh, come on, kid. Ahsoka told us that all we had to do was get you here and you’d do the rest.”

The sound of an approaching ship made (Y/N) look up and frown in concern, her eyes immediately spotting a familiar-looking ship flying through the sky; with a glance at Din, she hurried to the mountain’s edge and watched as the ship landed. “Son of a mud-scuffer, Din, this is not good.” Her stomach dropped and she looked over at Din beside her. “I think I know that ship and if it’s who I think it is, then we need to leave now.”

Din didn’t ask for her to elaborate, only nodding and calling out, “Time’s up! We gotta get out of here-!” They both turned and his words died in his throat as they stared at the bright blue Force-field swirling around the Seeing Stone; Grogu’s eyes were closed and his brow was wrinkled in concentration as the Force-field hummed with energy. “We don’t have time for this.” He strode over to the Seeing Stone. “We gotta get-”

The moment Din’s gloved hands touched the Force-field, he was thrown back and landed hard on the rocky ground. “Din!” (Y/N) sprinted over to him and grabbed his arm, helping him stagger to his feet. “Din, are you okay?!”

“Hey! Snap out of it, kid!” He ignored her words as he called out to the child. “We gotta get out of here!”

(Y/N) anxiously glanced over towards the direction of the unidentified ship and back at Grogu. “C’mon, Grogu, we have to leave!”

“I’ve got one being on the heat scanner.” Din dropped his hand away from his helmet and drew his blaster; (Y/N) drew hers and clutched its handle tightly as he glanced over his shoulder at Grogu. “We’ll see if we can buy you some time, but please hurry up!”

The two of them hurried down the side of the mountain, weaving around bushes and ducking behind boulders as they moved. They were a little ways from the base of the mountain when they came under heavy blaster fire; Din shoved her behind a nearby rock and used his beskar-clad body to shield hers as the blaster fire continued. After several long moments it finally stopped and (Y/N) met the visor of Din’s helmet, giving him a slight nod as he poked his head out from behind the rock.

“I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian.”

At the sound of a man’s gruff voice, they both slowly step out from behind the rock, their blasters leveled at the robed figure before them; strapped to the man’s back was a cycler rifle and gaffe stick, but he had no weapon drawn. “Are you Jedi?” The man didn’t answer and Din’s shoulders remained tense. “Or are you after the child?”

The man reached up and removed his hood, revealing his deeply-scarred head and grim expression, and he began to slowly walk forward. “I’m here for the armor.”

(Y/N)’s breath hitched as her partner coolly replied, “If you want my armor, you’ll have to peel it off my dead body.”

“I don’t want your armor. I want my armor that you got from Cobb Vanth back on Tatooine. It belongs to me.”

Her eyes briefly flicked over to Din before looking back to the man. “Are you Mandalorian?”

The corner of the man’s mouth twitched at her question. “I’m a simple man making his way through the galaxy, Captain, like my father before me.”

“Did you take the Creed?” Din demanded, his modulated voice taking on a harder edge after the man’s comment to her.

“I give my allegiance to no one.”

“The beskar belongs to the Mandalorians; it was looted from us during the Purge.”

The man’s nostrils flared in anger. “The armor was my father’s. Now it’s mine.”

Din’s grip on his blaster tightened and (Y/N) felt her forehead begin to bead with sweat. “What’s to stop me from dropping you right where you stand?”

“Because I have a sharpshooter up on that ridge with a locked scope that will unload by the time my body hits the ground.”

“I’m the one wearing beskar. As soon as I see that muzzle flash, my partner’ll be covered and you and your friend’ll both be dead.”

The man looked unfazed. “I didn’t mean she was going to shoot you, or even your partner.” A chill went down (Y/N)’s spine at his words. “My friend’s locked onto that little companion of yours up on the henge…”

“And if you remember, I don’t miss.”

(Y/N) looked up to the ridge to her left to see a figure aiming an MK-modified blaster at the top of the mountain and Din called out, “Fennec?!”

The woman chuckled. “You have a keen ear, Mando.”

“You point that gun away from the kid or I’ll drop you both where you stand.” With a flex of his wrist, Din activated his whistling birds and raised his blaster higher.

Lifting his hands in a placating manner, the man nodded to their drawn blasters. “Let’s all put down our weapons, have a chat. There’s no need for bloodshed.”

(Y/N) kept her blaster leveled at his chest. “Tell her to drop the gun, then.”

“After he puts down the jetpack.”

Din let out a frustrated sigh. “Same time.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the man looked over at Fennec on the ridge and nodded. “Stand down.”

The sharpshooter lowered her rifle and began making her way down to where they stood; (Y/N) and Din exchanged a look before holstering their blasters, and she watched as her partner disengaged the whistling birds and set his jetpack down against the rock. At the same time, the man slowly set his cycler rifle on the ground beside him and a helmet-less Fennec moved to stand next him, quirking her lips as her eyes landed on Din. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“You were dead.”

The man nodded. “She was left for dead on the sands of Tatooine, as I was. But fate sometimes steps in to rescue the wretched.”

“In my case, Boba Fett was that fate.” (Y/N) stiffened at the mention of the man’s true name as the sharpshooter shifted a strip of fabric and showed them the machinery that was keeping her alive. “And I am now in his service.”

Boba turned away from Fennec to look at them. “I want my armor back.”

“It goes against the Mandalorian Creed.”

“He’s not gonna take ‘no’ for an answer.” Glancing at Din beside her, (Y/N) anxiously bit her lip before continuing. “While I was starting out as a smuggler, I heard stories of a bounty hunter who went by the name of Boba Fett; if this really is the same man, then I seriously think you should reconsider your answer.”

“You should listen to your partner,” Boba remarked. “The armor was given to my father, Jango, by your forebears. In exchange, I guarantee the safety of the child, as well as yours and your partner’s.”

Fennec gestured towards the mountain in the distance. “The bounty on your little friend has risen significantly; you can buy ten suits of armor for the price on its head.”

Her partner shifted his weight as Boba added, “I’d say we’re offering a fair deal under the circumstances.”

Before either of them could say anything, the humming of another approaching ship grew louder and when it flew overhead, (Y/N) gasped in alarm; her time as a Rebellion smuggler ensured that she’d never forget the sight of an Imperial transport ship. She and Din drew their blasters and ran back to the mountain, the threat of Boba Fett and his sharpshooter gone from their minds and replaced with fear for Grogu’s safety; scrambling up the incline of the mountain, they finally made it to the top and saw that the child was still encompassed in the blue Force-field.

“Time to go!” Din ran over to the Seeing Stone and before (Y/N) could call out a warning, his hands made contact with the Force-field and after a moment, he was thrown even farther back than before. His body landed hard on the ground several feet away from the Seeing Stone and flipped over before lying still.

“Din!” Just as she had before, (Y/N) sprinted to his side and knelt; she shook his shoulder but he didn’t stir. “Din, c’mon!” For the first time in their partnership she cursed Din’s Creed, as his helmet was preventing her from seeing just how injured he was; thinking fast, she slipped her fingers under the bottom of his helmet and pressed them against his jugular vein, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief when she found his pulse. The sound of distant blaster fire drew her attention away from the unconscious Mandalorian and looking down, she could see a battalion of Stormtroopers exchanging blaster fire with Boba and Fennec. “Shit, there’s too many of them…” She wrestled with her indecision for a moment before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Din’s helmet. “I’ll be right back, Din, I’m gonna buy us some time.” Standing, (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder at the meditating child before drawing her blaster and hurrying down the mountain.

About halfway down the rocky slope, (Y/N) darted behind a large boulder and watched as four Stormtroopers came into view; she took careful aim with her blaster before shooting one of them square in the chest. The dead Stormtrooper fell to the ground as the other three began firing their blasters in her direction and if she were in any other situation, she would’ve rolled her eyes at their typical poor marksmanship. They exchanged fire and in no time, all four Stormtroopers lay dead as she continued down the mountain towards the sound of heavy blaster fire, only pausing to watch a second Imperial transport ship land beside the first.

“Dank farrik!” (Y/N) exclaimed, watching in disbelief as another battalion of Stormtroopers ran out of the transport. Hearing a noise behind her, she ducked and rolled behind another boulder as blaster bolts hit the ground where she’d just been standing; she had enough time to fire off a shot towards the Stormtroopers closing in on her before running and jumping down off the edge of the ridge. She landed on her feet and was surprised to find herself standing beside Fennec, who spared her a brief glance as she fired her blaster rifle. “Where’s your friend?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Fennec replied as they both began backing away from the approaching Stormtroopers. “And the child?”

(Y/N) dodged a blaster bolt and returned fire. “Safe for now.” The two women quickly found themselves with their backs to a large boulder, and the Stormtroopers immediately began surrounding them.

“Give yourselves up!”

“We don’t want you, we want the child!”

(Y/N) bit her lip, watching as more and more Stormtroopers began closing in on them; she’d been in plenty of tough scrapes, but this one looked impossible to escape from. Just as she was debating whether or not they should try fighting their way out, a noise behind her made her quickly turn her head. Din was standing atop the boulder behind them, his blaster raised and his whistling birds already flying through the air towards the Stormtroopers.

“Okay, let’s move in.” Jumping down from the boulder, Din took the lead while (Y/N) and Fennec flanked him, all three of them aiming and firing at the charging Stormtroopers.

Fennec glanced over at (Y/N) as a blaster bolt dinged off of Din’s beskar armor. “This isn’t looking good.”

Din shrugged, his blaster sweeping over (Y/N)’s head as the two of them switched sides. “I’ve seen worse. You can get out of here, I owe you from last time; take (Y/N) with you, I’ll buy you some time.”

“We had a deal.”

(Y/N) shot him a hard glare while he moved in front of her. “And I’m not leaving without you.”

Blaster bolts rained down on them and while Din’s armor was able to block most of them, it couldn’t block them all; (Y/N)’s left side erupted in pain and she let out a strangled yell, her free hand clutching the wound as she continued firing. Just as things were beginning to look dire, a grenade fell out of the sky and exploded, sending several Stormtroopers flying back; an armored figure flew down and as he landed on the ground, (Y/N) instantly realized that it was Boba Fett wearing the Mandalorian armor they’d retrieved from the Marshal of Mos Pelgo.

The bounty hunter backhanded the nearest Stormtrooper and shot them before turning towards the approaching Stormtroopers, and (Y/N) watched in awe while he fought through them all single-handedly. I guess all those stories about him were true, she thought to herself, her eyes wide as Boba Fett strode after the retreating Stormtroopers; they ran into their transport ships and quickly took off, but that didn’t deter the bounty hunter. Boba leaned forward and activated the missile strapped to his back, watching as it flew through the air and hit one of the transport ships. The burning ship hit the second and the falling debris exploded against a mountain as the bounty hunter turned to look at them.

“Nice shot,” Din quipped as the three of them walked over to Boba.

“I was aiming for the other one.”

(Y/N) chuckled but just then, a deafening blast filled the air and a red-colored bolt sped downwards, hitting the Razor Crest and instantly destroying it in a fiery explosion; her jaw dropped in shock and disbelief, and while she was aware of talking and movement around her, she couldn’t focus on any of it. The ship she’d grown fond of flying and considered her home had been demolished in the blink of an eye.

Shaking herself out of her grief, she looked over at Din as he stared up at the sky; his body stiffened and he suddenly shouted out, “The kid!” He turned and ran back up the mountain with (Y/N) and Fennec following close behind; her blaster wound ached but she didn’t stop running, even when she spotted the four black droids land down on the top of the mountain. The three of them reached the ridge in time to see the droids flying up into the sky with Grogu in tow.

“No!” (Y/N) gasped, the four droids blurring as her eyes filled with tears. “Grogu…!”

Boba Fett’s ship flew overhead in the direction of the droids as Fennec spoke into her comm link. “They’ve got the baby, don’t let them get away.”

“Affirmative. I have a lock.”

“Stop it,” Din ordered, his voice teetering the line between stiff and panicked. “I don’t want the child hurt.”

“Abort pursuit, disengage. Do not harm the child.”

“Copy. I’ll do a loose follow, see where they’re headed.” The three of them stood and watched Boba’s ship climb higher into the sky; (Y/N) holstered her blaster and as soon as her hand was free, Din latched onto it, the worn leather of his glove digging into her palm. Moments later, the bounty hunter’s voice came through the comm link. “They’re back.”

(Y/N) tore her eyes away from the sky and met Fennec’s confused gaze. “Who?”

“The Empire. They’re back.”

Din’s grip on her hand tightened and (Y/N) looked over at him as her eyes widened in fear; they both knew exactly what Boba was seeing, but Fennec didn’t. “That can’t be. The Outer Rim’s under the jurisdiction of the New Republic.”

“This isn’t a spice stream, I can see the Imperial cruiser with my own eyes. Heading down.”

Shoulders sagging, (Y/N) leaned against her partner’s side and squeezed her eyes closed in grief. Moff Gideon and the remnants of the Empire had Grogu, one of the last Force-wielders left in the galaxy, and she and Din had failed to stop them.

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen
The Loss

Before he met Grogu and (Y/N), Din had learned not to grow attachments to people or places; the life of a bounty hunter was too unpredictable, too dangerous, to allow for such luxuries and being a Mandalorian only added to that danger. But the one thing he allowed himself to cherish was the Razor Crest, his faithful ship that had never once let him down. Almost every piece of it had been repaired or replaced and he couldn’t deny that it looked like a hunk of junk at first glance, but it had also been his home and the one place where he didn’t have to hide behind his Creed. And now it’s gone along with the kid, Din thought to himself, blinking back tears as he walked through the smoking crater and the remains of his ship.

(Y/N) was standing at the edge of the crater beside Fennec and Boba, his jetpack resting under her arm while her hand pressed against the blaster wound on her side. He hadn’t had the heart to go back and retrieve his jetpack, knowing that he could’ve saved Grogu from the droids if only he’d been wearing it, so (Y/N) had gone and gotten it herself. The pain written across her face made Din look down at the charred remains of the ship, and a small part of him hoped that something – anything – of hers had survived the blast. After a moment of looking around, he caught sight of a piece of a familiar storage container and his heart sank even further; all of the captain’s belongings, the things that had meant so much to her that she’d hired a fearsome Mandalorian to help get them back from a crime syndicate, were all gone.

“Ni ceta, alor’ad,” He whispered, his eyes continuing to scan the piles of ash. A rounded metal sphere sticking out from one pile caught his attention and when he picked it up, he realized with a jolt that it was the same metal sphere that the child loved playing with from the moment he first boarded the ship. His gloved fingers tightened around the sphere for a moment before he tucked it away in the pouch at his waist.

“Din,” The captain’s voice softly called out behind him; he turned around to see her standing before him with the beskar spear they’d received from Ahsoka Tano in her hand. “I think this is the only weapon that survived.”

His eyes were drawn to the singed and bloody clothing on her side and without hesitation, he quickly took the jetpack and fastened it to his back before taking the spear from her. “We should get that wound looked at, alor’ad.”

“It looks worse than it is; I’ll be okay once I put a bacta patch on it.” (Y/N)’s gaze was lowered, and he realized that she was looking at what little was left of her storage container. “I think they both wanna talk to us…”

Din nodded and the two of them walked side-by-side out of the crater, his free hand moving to rest on the small of her back. They made their way to where the pair stood and he held out the spear for them to see. “This is all that survived.”

“Beskar,” Boba remarked, glancing between Din and (Y/N) before tapping on his vambrace. “I want you both to take a look at something.” A golden hologram flickered to life and it took Din a moment to recognize the Mando’a letters. “My chain code had been encoded in this armor for twenty-five years.” He brought his other hand up and pointed to a section of the hologram. “You see, this is me, Boba Fett and this is my father, Jango Fett.”

As he read the letters, Din’s brow rose in surprise. “Your father was a foundling.”

“Yes. He even fought in the Mandalorian Civil Wars.”

Boba turned off the hologram and Din let out a sigh. “Then that armor belongs to you.”

The man, who (Y/N) had earlier stated was an infamous bounty hunter, nodded once. “I appreciate its return.”

“Then our deal is complete.”

“…Not quite.”

(Y/N) shifted beside Din. “How so?”

“We agreed in exchange for the return of my armor,” Boba gestured towards himself and Fennec as he addressed Din’s partner. “That we will ensure the safety of the child, Captain.”

Din swallowed the lump in his throat. “The child’s gone.”

“Until he is returned to you both safely, we are in your debt.” Boba’s expression was resolute and beside him, Fennec nodded in agreement. “We should head to my ship; our medkit isn’t fully stocked, but we have enough supplies to treat that blaster wound. Then, we can plan our next move.”

With nods of thanks, Din and (Y/N) followed Boba and Fennec into his ship, the Slave I; the bounty hunter disappeared into the cockpit while Fennec retrieved their medkit and helped (Y/N) sit down on a bench near the back. The sharpshooter moved to sit at the opposite end of the ship, giving the two of them some privacy as the ship began its takeoff. After helping the captain take off her coat and removing his gloves, Din knelt on the floor of the ship and carefully rolled up the hem of her shirt, furrowing his brow in concern at what he saw. “You’re right, it looks worse than it probably is but I still need to clean it before putting any bacta on.”

(Y/N) nodded but remained silent, staring down at the floor while Din focused on his work; he was as gentle as he could be, far more gentle than he ever was with his own wounds, and in no time the bacta patch was secured over her wound. Just as he was preparing to stand, the captain grabbed his hand to stop him. “Din?” Her voice was unusually timid and when he looked up at her, he was shocked to see that her eyes were filled with unshed tears. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect him, I-I should’ve stayed and-”

“Alor’ad, no, it wasn’t your fault.” Din interrupted, bringing his free hand up to cradle the side of her face. “You did everything right, and if anyone’s to be blamed it’s me.” There was an argumentative look on her face at his words but he shook his head before she could say anything. “I took off my jetpack, (Y/N), I left the kid defenseless and I didn’t stop…I didn’t stop those droids from taking him.”

“They would’ve hurt you, Din, or worse.”

His fingers tightened around her hand. “This is the Way.”

“Please don’t say that, Din,” She practically begged as she began shaking her head. “It’s bad enough that Grogu’s gone, I-I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you both…!”

Din quickly moved to sit beside (Y/N), mindful of her blaster wound as he eased her onto his lap and held her close. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.” His own eyes welled with tears as he silently thanked the Maker that his partner hadn’t been taken from him too. If that had happened, if the Empire had succeeded in taking everything from him again, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the pain; as he took a shuddering breath, he brought one hand up and began stroking her hair while he let her continue squeezing the other. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The captain looked directly into the visor of his helmet while her fingers curled tight around his. “And I’m not going anywhere either, Din. I promise.” Resting her free hand against the side of his helmet, she coaxed his head down before touching her forehead with hers. Din blinked in surprise at her action; he’d never told her about Keldabe kisses and their importance in Mandalorian culture, but it seemed that she somehow understood his impulsive gesture after her farewell song back on Corvus. I don’t know what I’ve done in my life to deserve someone like her, he thought to himself, his eyes squeezing shut as his tears rolled down his cheeks.

As (Y/N)’s eyelids began growing heavy, Din carefully eased her off of his lap and bundled his cowl into a makeshift pillow before guiding her to lie down. He knelt before her and gently wiped away her stray tears, his heart warming as she nuzzled into the fabric of his cowl and quickly fell asleep. Pushing himself off the ground, Din made his way over to where Fennec was seated; she was cleaning her blaster rifle but he got the feeling that the sharpshooter had been watching the two of them.

“Can I speak to you and Fett?”

Fennec nodded, reaching a hand towards the control panel beside her and flipping a switch. “Mando’s ready to talk.”

There was a noise from above and moments later, Boba was making his way down from the cockpit. After moving to stand beside Fennec, the bounty hunter’s eyes flicked over to where (Y/N) was sleeping. “How’s your partner?”

“Better; her blaster wound wasn’t deep but she’s resting now. If we’re gonna track down Moff Gideon then we’ll need some ex-Imperial help, so we’ll need to chart our course for Nevarro.”

“Nevarro?” Fennec raised a skeptical brow. “Rumor has it that the planet’s completely free of Imperial control, all thanks to their brand-new marshal. Are you sure that’s where you think we should start?”

“I have a friend there that can help us find an ex-Imperial I once knew,” Din sighed a little as he spoke. “At least, I hope she can…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cara Dune, Marshal of the New Republic.” Din examined the metal signet with a small smile before tossing it back to its owner. “I heard rumors that you might’ve gone legit.”

Cara smirked and set her marshal signet down on her desk. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Beside Din, (Y/N) cleared her throat and shifted her weight, stifling a wince of pain as she pressed a hand to her wounded side; he’d tried convincing the captain to stay on the Slave I with Boba and Fennec but she insisted on accompanying him. “We need your help, Cara.”

“Name it.”

Din gestured towards the machine sitting on her desk. “We need you to locate someone in the prison registry.”

“Let’s see what I can do.” The marshal sat up, sliding her ankles off the edge of her desk and reaching toward the registry’s dials.

“Ex-Imperial sharpshooter, last name Mayfeld. Apprehended near the Dilesrti system on a derelict prison ship.” As he spoke, he glanced over at (Y/N) beside him and met her critical gaze; after their misadventure with the New Republic Rangers on Maldo Kreis, he’d told her about his brief dealings with Ran and his crew and explained why he’d been wanted by the New Republic. Seems like I’ll never hear the end of that job, Din thought in annoyance, but if working with Mayfeld helps us get the kid back then…

“Migs Mayfeld.” Cara’s brow rose as she began reading off the registry. “Serving fifty years in the Karthon Chop Fields for springing a prisoner himself. Accessory to the death of a New Republic officer. Huh.” She looked up from the registry, her eyes narrowing as she looked between the two of them. “Sounds like a real piece of work. What do you two want with him?”

Din closed his eyes, the memory of Grogu being taken by droids and his ship being destroyed filling his mind as he answered her. “We need to spring him to help us locate Moff Gideon’s light cruiser.”

His eyes opened in time to see her lean back in her seat and frown. “You know how I feel about the Empire, but these stripes mean there are rules I need to follow.”

“Cara…” (Y/N) stepped forward and took hold of one of Din’s hands, biting her lip before speaking the words that he didn’t have the strength to. “They took the little guy.”

The marshal’s expression hardened, and Din knew that they were one step closer to getting Grogu back and ending Moff Gideon once and for all.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen
The Believer

One of the things (Y/N) loved about sewing was the sheer complexity of it. Envisioning exactly what you wanted to create and carefully planning out each stitch before the needle could even touch the fabric, methodically constructing something out of nothing but your own imagination and with only the simplest of tools to help you. Sewing had always been therapeutic for her, a way of distracting herself from the challenges of life and proving that she could be more than what the Rebellion had turned her into, and it was onboard the Slave I when (Y/N) realized just how important the pastime had been to her.

Ignoring many encouragements to rest, (Y/N) had disassembled and cleaned each and every weapon onboard the ship, her hands moving on auto-pilot while she skillfully disassembled and put blasters back together. But the task wasn’t challenging enough to make her stop thinking about Grogu and the terrified look in his eyes as the droids had taken him away; the Empire had already taken so much from her, but she’d be damned if she let them take away the child she and Din had grown to love.

“Hey,” (Y/N) glanced over as Fennec sat down on the bench beside her and gestured to the blaster rifle in her lap. “You’re gonna burn a hole through that rag if you keep cleaning like that.”

At the assassin’s comment, her hands stilled and she registered the lingering soreness in her arms; she met her gaze with a brief smile and shrugged indifferently. “What can I say? Boba Fett has some incredibly filthy weapons. Seriously, you’d think that one of the galaxy’s most legendary bounty hunters would take the time to clean his blasters.”

“Keep cleaning like that and he just might hire you to do it for him.”

(Y/N) snorted in amusement. “A former Alliance Starfleet captain joining up with an assassin and a living legend; wouldn’t that be something?”

Nodding, Fennec’s eyes flicked over to where Din was seated in the corner. “Probably not as exciting as joining up with a Mandalorian warrior.”

“We’re here. Prep for landing.”

While Fennec went off to speak to Cara, (Y/N) set the half-cleaned blaster rifle down and made her way over to Din, who was preoccupied with adjusting one of his pauldrons. “Din, are you sure that this is a good idea?”

“No,” He answered truthfully, the visor of his helmet tilted up towards her as she stood in between his spread legs; his modulated voice sounded rougher than usual and her heart broke when she realized that he’d been crying. “But what other choice do we have? None of us knows any other ex-Imps who’d be willing to help; Mayfeld may be one son of a mud-scuffer but his allegiance isn’t to the Empire.” The ship began its descent as Din held one of her hands between his gloved ones. “We’re gonna get the kid back, alor’ad, I swear on everything I am that we will.”

“I know,” (Y/N) gave him a soft smile and allowed him to rest his helmeted head against her stomach. “I know we will.”

The ship landed smoothly on the surface of Karthon and after Boba lowered the ramp, Cara left to retrieve Mayfeld from the endless field of scrap metal. Din insisted on checking (Y/N)’s blaster wound while they waited and she reluctantly allowed him to wrap a bandage over her fresh bacta patch, understanding the reasons for his over-protectiveness. She was lowering the hem of her top when Boba emerged from the cockpit and her brow rose in surprise; he’d applied a fresh coat of dark green paint to his beskar armor, making it appear as good as new. Now he really looks like a legendary bounty hunter, she thought as she watched him and Fennec walk down the ship’s ramp, remembering all the stories and cautionary tales she’d heard about the man.

“Let’s go.”

Din gave her hand a final squeeze before dropping it and walking down the ramp. Pressing a hand to the bandage at her side, (Y/N) slowly followed behind and her eyes were immediately drawn to the man in the New Republic prison jumpsuit; the joking look that had been on his face quickly fell as he watched Din exit the Slave I and she couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, knowing that he deserved to feel fear after everything he’d done during and after the Rebellion.

The two of them stopped in front of Mayfeld and Din inclined his head. “Mayfeld.”

“Hey, Mando, long time.” Mayfeld was looking at everything but the Mandalorian as he anxiously asked, “What, you came here to kill me?”

Cara clenched her jaw. “All you need to know is I bent a lot of rules to bring you along.”

“Why am I so lucky?”

(Y/N)’s anger rose at Mayfeld’s sarcastic response and she didn’t stop herself from snapping back. “Because you’re Imperial.”

“Hey, that was a long time ago, all right?” He insisted, furrowing his brow while he glanced between her and Din. “And why the hell does me bein’ ex-Imperial matter to you, princess?”

“You still know your Imperial clearances and protocols,” Din interrupted, his gloved hands tightening into fists at his sides as he loomed over the man. “Don’t you?” Mayfeld frowned in confusion but kept silent as they all headed back into the ship, following Cara’s orders to change out of his jumpsuit and into a spare set of clothes. Din helped (Y/N) sit and stayed by her side while the ship took off and their guest took a seat across from them; Cara sat beside her, her eyes narrowed and diligently trained on Mayfeld, and Fennec’s arms were crossed over her chest. “We need coordinates to Moff Gideon’s cruiser.”

“Moff Gideon?” Mayfeld asked incredulously before shaking his head. “Yeah, forget it. Just take me back to the scrapyard. I’m not doin’ that.”

Cara let out a sigh and glanced over at them before replying, “They’ve got their kid.”

To (Y/N)’s surprise, Mayfeld’s hardened expression faltered. “The little green guy?”

“Yeah, the little green guy.” The gloved hand that rested on (Y/N)’s shoulder twitched and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

“So…I help you guys get him back, you guys let me go?”

(Y/N) snorted in amusement at his hopeful tone. “That’s not how this works.”

“Well, then what’s in it for me?”

Beside her, Cara pursed her lips in annoyance. “You get a better view.”

Mayfeld sighed, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees before answering. “All right, but here’s the thing: I can’t get those coordinates unless I have access to an internal Imperial terminal. I believe there’s one on Morak.”

“Morak?” Din repeated, his modulated voice laced with disbelief. “There’s nothing on Morak.”

The man shook his head. “It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?” (Y/N) and Cara exchanged matching looks of disgust, their time with the Rebellion making it difficult for either of them to stomach their new passenger. “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.”

(Y/N) tilted her head to look up at Din and after a brief moment’s hesitation, he reached for the nearby control panel and pressed a button. “Fett, punch in the coordinates for Morak.”

“Copy that.”

The ship hummed around them as it prepared to enter hyperspace, and (Y/N) felt an unexpected pang of sadness; she missed piloting a ship, the familiar task having the same effect on her mental health as sewing. I’ll add the Razor Crest to the ever-growing list of things that the Empire’s taken away from me, she thought as the image of Grogu’s face crossed her mind again. With Din’s assistance, she got up and moved to join him and Boba beside the navigation system but not before she heard Mayfeld speak again.

“Hey, Marshal, who the hell’s the girl anyhow, some sort of royalty or somethin’?”

“Her name is (Y/N), and she’s Mando’s partner. That’s all you need to know.”

She wasn’t sure if Din had heard Mayfeld and Cara’s exchange but she didn’t say anything to him, allowing him to wrap a steadying arm around her waist and looking over expectantly at the bounty hunter working the controls of the navigation system.

“I did an initial scan of the planet,” Boba announced, gesturing towards the navigation system he’d been tampering with and waiting for them to move closer before continuing. “This is what you’re talking about, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the refinery right there.” Mayfeld gestured towards the blue-tinted image of a massive stone structure.

Fennec shifted as her eyes remained trained on the hologram. “Wonder what they’re refining in there.”

“Looks like rhydonium. Highly volatile and explosive.”

Mayfeld snickered at Boba’s words. “Yeah, kinda like this one, huh?”

(Y/N), Din and Boba all turned around and the man’s joking grin fell; the bounty hunter turned back to the hologram with a sigh. “They have anti-aircraft cannons protecting it.”

“And a platoon of security forces.”

Din nodded. “So we go in quiet. Let’s take another look…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Slave I soon landed on the surface of Morak, hidden away behind a dense forest of trees, and after arming themselves the group trekked through the foliage to the edge of a cliff. It overlooked a dusty road and just as they arrived, an Imperial vehicle passed by and into a tunnel carved into a nearby mountain.

Mayfeld turned away from the sight to look at them, apprehension quickly filling his eyes. “I’m not gonna need long inside so once I get the coordinates, you guys gotta get me the hell out of there.”

“You get to the roof, I’ll drop in and pull you out.”

Cara nodded, her hand moving to rest on the blaster at her hip. “All right, Mayfeld and I will swap out for the drivers in the tunnel-”

“Hey, as much as I’d like to take a road trip with Rebel-dropper here, that’s not gonna work.”

The marshal’s brow rose as she examined his face. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Mayfeld sighed in exasperation. “Well, because these remnant bases are set up and run by ex-ISB. If you get scanned and your genetic signature shows up on any New Republic register, you’re gonna be detected and it’s guns out.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, (Y/N) couldn’t help but scoff at his words. “You sure do know a lot about Imperial remnants.”

“Hey, if you wanna accuse me of somethin’, princess, then just say it!”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Din’s stern voice. “We don’t have time for this. Fennec will go.”

“No, I’m wanted by the ISB,” Fennec shook her head. “I’ll trip the alarm, too.”

Din turned to Boba beside him. “Fett?”

Sighing beneath his helmet, Boba cryptically replied, “Let’s just say they might recognize my face.”

An idea began to form in (Y/N)’s mind while Mayfeld and Cara began bickering, and she took a deep breath before speaking up. “I’ll go.”

Her companions all turned to look at her but her eyes were only focused on Din, who had visibly tensed at her declaration. “You can’t, alor’ad, you’re a former Rebellion captain; you’ll show up on New Republic registers the same as Cara.”

“…Not necessarily.” She glanced down at the rocky ground to avoid their confused stares and continued. “The Alliance Starfleet kept a record of all the smugglers within the Rebellion but since it was imperative that our missions remained secret, they never kept records of our genetics. So, there’s a pretty good chance that I won’t show up on any ISB genetic scans.”

“And there’s a pretty good chance that you will.”

“Then I’ll avoid getting scanned.”

“I don’t trust Mayfeld.”

“Last I checked, I can take care of myself.”

“You’re still injured.”

“I’m fine!” (Y/N) insisted, her frustration with the Mandalorian mounting with each excuse he gave her. “Look, we don’t trust him to go in alone and I’m the only one of us who has a chance of not being caught! We’re wasting time arguing when-”

“I’ll go with you.”

(Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock and she was vaguely aware of Mayfeld’s amused chuckle somewhere nearby, but her eyes remained trained on the visor of Din’s helmet. “Hey buddy, I may be good at fast-talkin’, but I don’t think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards. So, unless you’re gonna take off that helmet, it’s gonna be me goin’ in with your smuggler gal here.” He ignored the pointed glare (Y/N) shot him as he shrugged a shoulder. “Or say goodbye to your little green friend.”

Din continued to stare down at her. “You two are not going alone. I’m coming with you…and I won’t be showing my face.”

To say that (Y/N) was angry with her partner was an understatement; she was infuriated that after everything they’d gone through together, Din didn’t believe that she could complete the mission without him. She was fuming throughout their planning session and when they prepared to make their way to the top of the tunnel, she ignored his attempts to help her and instead asked Cara to guide her down the rocky slope. She’d also be lying if she said she wasn’t frustrated about the way he was risking his Creed; the Way was more important to him than anything and the thought that he was putting it at risk because of her made her feel equal amounts of irritation and guilt. I’m not going to be the one responsible for breaking his Creed, (Y/N) silently vowed, not when I know how much it means to him.

While the next Imperial vehicle passed underneath them, the four of them jumped down onto its roof and crouched low as it entered the tunnel. Cara disappeared into the vehicle and soon after, it came to a jarring stop; the sudden movement made (Y/N) hiss in pain and clamp a hand down on her healing wound, but she was quick to climb down onto the ground before Din could try and help her.

“Looks like we lucked out,” Cara called, opening the side hatch and kicking one trooper out. “These two had a passenger with them.” The marshal tossed a second unconscious body out of a vehicle and (Y/N)’s stomach dropped when she recognized the uniform of an Imperial naval captain.

“Wow, what irony; the former Rebel captain putting on the uniform of an Imperial captain!” Mayfeld snickered beside her as she knelt and began stripping off the man’s outer clothes. “I’d offer to swap outfits with you, princess, but that Imperial kepi’s not really my style.”

“Shut up and get changed,” Din growled and despite her frustration, she watched with satisfaction as the man paled and hurried to comply with his order; the Mandalorian, who had already gathered up the second trooper’s armor, moved closer to her once she stood with her borrowed uniform. “Can we talk?”

(Y/N) brushed past him and began walking towards a nearby crevice in the tunnel wall, calling over her shoulder, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Alor’ad…” His plead didn’t do anything to stop her and moments later, she heard his heavy footsteps follow her into the crevice. “C’mon, alor’ad-”

“Don’t you ‘alor’ad’ me, Din.” She stopped dead in her tracks and spun around to face him as her anger finally boiled over. “You don’t think that I have what it takes to finish this mission on my own.”

Din let out an exasperated sigh. “(Y/N), that’s not true-”

“Yes, it is! You’re putting yourself and your Creed at risk all because you don’t trust my skills.”

“No, I’m not-”

“Then why?!” (Y/N) demanded, tears of frustration prickling in her eyes. “Why would you insist on coming along and-?”

“I love you.” Din’s words echoed through the crevice and she froze as he continued on uninterrupted, his voice beginning to waiver. “(Y/N), I love you and I can’t lose you, I just can’t. I’m already the one who got you injured and made you lose everything that mattered to you, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t be the one responsible for getting you killed, too.” Tossing the trooper’s armor onto the ground and ripping off his gloves, he stepped forward and held her face between his warm, tanned hands. “Nothing in this galaxy means more to me than you and the kid, alor’ad, nothing. Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad. I love you.”

A tear streamed down (Y/N)’s cheek and Din’s thumb gently wiped it away as she replied, “And I love you too, Din Djarin.” She pressed a kiss to his palm and his helmeted forehead lowered to rest against hers; after taking a moment to revel in their love confessions, she looked up into the visor of his helmet. “Din, you’re not responsible for what happened; my blaster wound is nearly healed and my possessions…they were only possessions.”

“But your mother’s journal, your dream-”

“I won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt that the only thing of hers I had is gone, but the Empire can never take away my memories of her. And as for my dream…” She held the uniform in one arm and rested a hand against his beskar-covered chest, directly over his heart. “It’ll come true one day, Din, but only if you’re there with me.”

“Hey lovebirds, we’re kinda on a time crunch here! Hurry up!”

Din let out a frustrated growl as he pulled away from her. “I swear on the Maker, if we didn’t need his Imperial clearances…”

Her partner kept watch at the entrance of the crevice while she quickly changed into the Imperial captain’s uniform and once she was fully dressed, she headed back to where Cara and Mayfeld were waiting; the marshal flashed her a sympathetic smile as she moved to stand beside her. “Grey wool looks terrible on you, Captain.”

“Feels terrible, too.” (Y/N) grumbled, fidgeting as the rough material rubbed against her skin. “Imps don’t know kriff about constructing comfortable uniforms.”

From his spot inside the vehicle, Mayfeld snorted in amusement. “What are you, one of those fashionistas from Naboo or somethin’?” She refused to look in his or Cara’s direction, and her jaw clenched as the man began to laugh. “The silence is incredibly telling, princess. Who would’ve thought that an Alderaanian could work alongside someone from Naboo? You know, since Naboo’s kinda to blame for the rise of the Empire…”

(Y/N) was spared from answering when Din appeared from the crevice and made his way over to them; it was jarring to see him wearing something other than beskar and she knew that it couldn’t have been easy for him to pack his Mandalorian armor away after so many years of wearing it.

“Look at this! Oh, the shame; now, that right there is worth the price of admission.”

The three of them ignored Mayfeld’s remarks as they moved to stand beside the Juggernaut. (Y/N) avoided glancing over at the marshal standing beside her, instead keeping her eyes on the visor of Din’s new trooper helmet. “Wish I could say it looked good on you but I’d be lying.”

“Just make sure you take out the rooftop gunner, or we’re never getting out of here.”

“We got you,” (Y/N) felt a hand on her elbow and when she looked over, Cara was smiling as she continued. “Both of you.”

(Y/N) felt the tension immediately leave her body, her shoulders sagging in relief when she realized that Cara didn’t despise her; they shared a smile of understanding and Din held out the burlap sack towards the marshal. “Take care of this, keep it safe.”

Cara nodded firmly and accepted the bag. “I will.”

“Hey guys, still on the clock.” Mayfeld called out and with one final look, (Y/N) and Din turned and made their way over to the side of the vehicle. “What would they say on Mandalore?” She allowed her partner to help her up into the cab, rolling her eyes in annoyance as the man continued to talk to Cara outside. “It’s a shame you’re not comin’ along with us. You got such a sunny disposition, can’t imagine how fun you are in one of these…”

“Please let me shoot him, Din, I promise that I’ll only mildly injure him.”

Instead of answering, Din huffed out a quiet laugh while he settled in the seat beside her and (Y/N) focused her attention on the road ahead as Mayfeld worked on starting the Juggernaut. The engine roared to life after several moments of fiddling with the controls and the man cheered. “And we are off!” The vehicle lurched forward and the cab was silent while they journeyed out of the tunnel; just as she felt herself begin to relax, Mayfeld looked around her at Din. “Hey, how’s it feel? Huh?” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him gesture to the armor he was wearing. “I mean, c’mon, man. You still get to wear a helmet, right?” Neither of them answered and Mayfeld sighed. “All right, you know what? I’m takin’ this thing off, I can’t see anything.” With his free hand, he removed his helmet and set it aside before focusing back on the road ahead. “I don’t know how you people wear those things. And by ‘you people,’ I do mean Mandalorians.” (Y/N) felt her anger begin to rise at his taunts and she bit her lip to keep from speaking, keeping her eyes trained on the scenery outside. Just when she thought that he’d grown tired of talking, though, he spoke again. “Feels better when it’s off.”

Unable to contain herself any longer, (Y/N) turned towards Mayfeld with a harsh glare. “Just shut up and drive the kriffing vehicle, Mayfeld.”

Mayfeld smirked and raised a hand up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet now.” When she turned back to face the road, she felt Din’s gloved hand wrap around hers and gently squeeze. “So, a Rebel smuggler, huh? Whatcha smuggle for ‘em, spice? Weapons? Chak-root?” She didn’t reply so he let out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t peg you as the mercenary type. I thought that the Naboo were supposed to be peace-lovin’ people…but I guess that changed when they helped the Empire rise to-”

“Juggernaut Four, you’re running hot. Be sure to watch your cargo heat limits and speed.”

“Copy that, Three. We hit a couple bumps; thanks for the heads-up.”

The man beside her looked down at the vehicle’s monitors, his brow furrowing in worry as he struggled to check their cargo’s levels, and Din finally spoke up. “Don’t worry about the rhydonium. As long as you drive steady, you’ll get us to the refinery.”

They continued down the road, eventually coming across a small village. (Y/N) reached forward and activated the vehicle’s horn, carefully watching as the children hurried off of the road; seeing the children playing not only reminded her of Grogu, but of all the cities and villages she’d evacuated during the Rebellion. Even on the most heavily-controlled planets, children found ways to ignore the Imperial influences surrounding them and try to enjoy what little childhood they could; kids are resilient no matter their circumstances, she thought as the vehicle drove out of the village, but they shouldn’t have to be.

As if reading her thoughts, Mayfeld chuckled. “Yeah. Empire, New Republic…it’s all the same to these people. Invaders on their land is all we are. I’m just sayin’, somewhere someone in this galaxy is ruling and others are being ruled. I mean, look at your race.” He gestured towards Din, and (Y/N) could feel him tense up in anger; even she knew that it was a Creed and not a race, but it was clear that the man was only trying to rile the Mandalorian up. “Do you think all those people that died in wars fought by Mandalorians actually had a choice? So how are they any different than the Empire? If you were born on Mandalore, you believe one thing and if you were born on Alderaan, you believe somethin’ else. But guess what? Neither one of ‘em exist anymore.”

“I’m warning you, Mayfeld…”

“Hey, I’m just a realist, princess.” The man shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a survivor, just like you two-”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Din’s stern voice filled the cab of the vehicle. “You are nothing like us.”

Mayfeld snorted in amusement. “I don’t know, seems to me like your guys’ rules start to change when you get desperate.” (Y/N) glowered as he gestured to the Imperial captain’s uniform she wore. “I mean, look at you, a former Rebel captain wearin’ the uniform of an Imp. And you,” He looked around her at Din. “You said you couldn’t take your helmet off, and now you got a Stormtrooper one on. So what’s the rule? Is it that you can’t take off your Mando helmet, or you can’t show your face? ‘Cause there is a difference…”

At his observations, (Y/N) squirmed uncomfortably in her seat; Din had removed his helmet several times in her presence, though only while she was blindfolded, had her eyes closed or they were surrounded by darkness. He’d assured her several times that removing his helmet in her presence wasn’t breaking his Creed, since she couldn’t see his face, but Mayfeld’s words gave her pause. Have I been forcing Din to bend the Way of the Mandalore, she asked herself, uneasy with the idea of her partner compromising his beliefs for her. The hand that was holding hers flexed, and she knew that Din was also uncomfortable the man’s theorizing.

“Look, I’m just sayin’, we’re all the same. Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy.” Something shifted in Mayfeld’s eyes and he was quick to turn his attention back to the road before continuing. “As far as I’m concerned, if you can make it through your day and still sleep at night, you’re doin’ better than most.”

Before any of them could say another word, a voice called out from the cab’s communication radio. “Control, this is Juggernaut Three, we might be coming up on some route interference…Control, Control, we need a new-” The Juggernaut Three pilot screamed over the sound of blaster fire before the transmission cut out.

(Y/N) and Din turned to one another as Mayfeld began panicking. “What was that?”

“Please stand by for reroute.” The voice emitting from the communication radio was punctuated by a deafening explosion far ahead of them, fire and smoke filling the sky as the wreckage of a vehicle came into view. “Juggernaut Four has been destroyed.”

“Destroyed?!”

“The rhydonium’s still stable,” Din called out, glancing away from the monitors to look at (Y/N) as he lowered his voice. “Everything’s gonna be okay, alor’ad.”

“Juggernaut Five, maintain speed and course. Proceed with caution. Rerouting course, stand by.”

Mayfeld’s eyes widened in horror. “‘Proceed with caution?’ Is she serious?!”

“Control, this is Juggernaut Three, requesting-” The pilot was cut off by shouts and blaster fire. “Abort, abort!” There was another explosion, its shockwaves shaking their vehicle as they soon swerved around the wreckage of another Juggernaut.

A chill ran down (Y/N)’s spine, and she quickly looked away from the wreckage to stare at Din beside her. “They’re blowing up the rhydonium.”

Something heavy suddenly hit the side of their vehicle. “What the hell was that?”

The three of them looked down at the monitors to see a ship full of people flying alongside their vehicle, one of them already standing on their roof. “Pirates. Keep driving, I’ll take care of it.” Din opened the window beside him and leaned out before shooting at the pirates; (Y/N) watched the monitor with mounting panic, taking note of how close the blaster fire was to their volatile cargo.

“Are you seriously shooting a blaster near rhydonium?!”

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped when she spotted what the pirates were holding in their hands. “They’ve got thermal detonators…”

“Terrific!”

Din pulled away from the window and hurried to the ladder in the back of the cab. “Just keep it steady!”

“Get these guys off, get ‘em off us!”

“Just shut the hell up and keep driving!” (Y/N) shouted, watching her partner climb up the ladder and open the hatch before turning back to the monitors; as Din shot the attackers, their vehicle shook and the rhydonium levels began to fluctuate dangerously when one of the pirates thermal detonators exploded behind them, the monitor’s blinking red and an alarm blaring as she swore, “Dank farrik…”

“They’re trying to blow the rhydonium!”

Mayfeld huffed out a sarcastic laugh at Din’s exclamation. “You think?! You should’ve left me in prison!”

Despite their dire situation, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Finally, something you and I can agree on!” Another loud noise on the roof of the vehicle made her look down at the monitor to see Din fighting off more pirates; he’d somehow lost his blaster and was fighting them without a weapon, but he seemed to be doing all right for the moment. “Mayfeld, pick it up. Drive faster!”

The man’s brow furrowed but he listened to her command, pressing his foot down on the accelerator; they both lurched back as the Juggernaut sped forward and just as (Y/N) was breathing a sigh of relief, the alarm sounded and the rhydonium levels began to rapidly rise. “I don’t think faster’s a good idea!” He slammed on the brakes, instantly slowing the vehicle and stopping the alarm.

“What are you doing?!”

“The rhydonium’ll explode if we go any faster!” (Y/N) shouted back, scooting over to open the window and lean out to get a better look at the fighting; she watched as Din was knocked down onto his back, his helmeted head hanging over the edge of the roof as he was pinned down by three attackers. A fourth attacker hurried over to the open rhydonium container and retrieved a thermal detonator from his pocket, and that’s when (Y/N) knew she had to act.

“Where the hell are you goin’, princess?!” Mayfeld asked as she began clambering out of her seat, her hand pressed tight against her healing wound. “You’ve got a hole in your side and no blaster, remember?”

(Y/N) gritted her teeth and climbed up the cab’s ladder. “I don’t need a blaster.”

Ignoring the mounting pain in her side, (Y/N) clambered onto the roof of the vehicle and hurried over to where Din and the pirates were; she planted a hard kick onto one pirate’s back, sending him flying off the roof and freeing up Din’s hands so that he could take care of the other two. The beeping noise emitting from the thermal detonator grew more incessant as (Y/N) wrenched it off the rhydonium and, seeing no other option, threw it as hard as she could towards the pursuing ships; the force of the explosion sent her flying back into Din, and they both crashed onto the roof of the Juggernaut.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N), you okay?” Din panted, letting out a grunt of pain as he rolled over to onto his side and held the side of her face with a gloved hand. Still winded from the fall, she nodded and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Uh, Mando, I gotta stop! I can’t cross at this speed!”

The Juggernaut began to slow down as it neared the mouth of the bridge and while they helped each other sit up, (Y/N) spotted four more ships filled with pirates fly through the smoke and dying flames of the explosion; her heart sank when she saw the activated thermal detonators in their hands. There’s no way we’re getting out of this, she thought with dread, clambering to her feet to stand beside Din as he raised his fists. The unmistakable sounds of approaching TIE Fighters made (Y/N) whirl around just in time to see the Imperial ships shoot the ground on either side of their vehicle before hitting the approaching pirate ships; hating herself for feeling relieved, she allowed her partner to guide her down the ladder and into the cab of the Juggernaut.

From her seat in between Mayfeld and Din, (Y/N) watched with a mixture of horror and disgust as Stormtroopers gunned down the remaining pirates while others stood and saluted them as they drove into the refinery. Now that the fighting was over, guilt began to wash over her; the pirates that they’d fought and killed were only trying to defy Imperial rule, just as the countless people she’d smuggled off Imperial-controlled planets had done.

“Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy…”

You did it for Grogu, (Y/N) told herself firmly, clutching her side as she glanced over at her partner. Din was breathing heavily, his hand massaging his unarmored shoulder, and she could tell from his body language that he was thinking along the same lines as her.

“Never thought you’d be happy to see Stormtroopers, huh?” Mayfeld grinned, saluting back to the Stormtroopers flanking the Juggernaut with ease.

(Y/N) hated herself a little more as she silently agreed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen
The Creed

“Never thought you’d be happy to see Stormtroopers, huh?”

While Din slowly regained his breath, he glanced over at (Y/N) beside him; her eyes were blazing beneath the brim of her Imperial kepi and she stared straight ahead as her jaw clenched tight. He imagined that his expression under the helmet looked identical to hers but however uncomfortable their warm welcome felt to him, he couldn’t begin to imagine how someone who’d spent years fighting against the Empire felt. “Alor’ad.” She looked over at him and he gave her hand a brief squeeze. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

The captain flashed him a small smile and nodded; the Juggernaut came to a stop inside the refinery and was quickly surrounded by cheering Imperials. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

The three of them climbed out of the open doors and stood beside the vehicle. Mayfeld smiled at the crowd and allowed a Stormtrooper to clap him on the shoulder before glancing over at the two of them. “Okay, all we gotta do is find a terminal.” They began walking through the crowd towards a large doorway, Din feeling more and more apprehensive with each step; he felt awkward and vulnerable in the thin armor of an Imperial trooper but the image of Grogu’s frightened face urged him to continue forward. “It’s probably in the officer’s mess.” Once they reached the entrance of the mess hall, Mayfeld peeked inside and nodded. “There it is.”

Looking over the man’s shoulder, Din spotted the terminal in the corner of the small room and with a brief glance at (Y/N) beside him, he handed Mayfeld the data stick. “Good luck.” The two of them watched him enter the mess hall and just as Din was about to release the breath he’d been holding, he stopped dead in his tracks before turning and hurrying back over to them. “I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?” Din demanded, the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach slowly intensifying.

“That’s Valin Hess.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

“Valin Hess. I used to serve under him.”

Din bit back a curse. “Will he recognize you?”

“I don’t know,” Mayfeld confessed, glancing over his shoulder into the mess hall as he continued, “I was just a field operative but I’m not takin’ the chance, it’s over.”

Mayfeld moved to walk past them but (Y/N) quickly stepped in front of him. “Let’s just do this quick and we can get out of here.”

He shook his head. “I can’t do it, okay? We have to abort, I’m sorry-”

“No, we can’t.” Din held a halting hand to Mayfeld’s chest as he lowered his voice. “If we don’t get those coordinates, we’ll lose the kid forever.”

(Y/N) sighed while Mayfeld shook his head again and held out her hand. “Fine, give me the data stick. I’ll do it.”

“It’s not gonna work, princess. In order to access the network, the terminal has to scan your face; the New Republic may not have access to your genetic makeup, but they sure as hell have a picture of you.”

“Don’t you think that might’ve been a good thing to mention earlier?!” The captain’s voice was low but the anger was evident in every word she uttered. “Like when we were planning this entire thing?”

“Look, princess, I didn’t know what kind of terminal was gonna be here-”

“Don’t call me that! Maker, I knew we couldn’t trust an Imp with something this important, even if you are an ex-Imp!”

While the two of them bickered in quiet tones, Din’s eyes remained trained on the terminal; unlike his companions, he’d never had his face scanned so if he were to go, he wouldn’t trip any alarms. But by walking into that mess hall and removing his helmet, he’d be going against the Creed he’d sworn himself to and showing his face for the first time since he was a child. For the majority of his life, his Mandalorian Creed was the only thing he ever truly had but now, faced with the impossible decision to either remove his helmet in the middle of a room of Imperials or find another way to save Grogu, he knew in his heart that there was really only one option.

“Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy…”

“Give it to me.” Before Mayfeld could say anything or (Y/N) could try to stop him, Din took the data stick and strode into the mess hall. His steps faltered as he glanced around and noticed Valin Hess eyeing him curiously, and he gave the commander a small salute before making his way over to the terminal; standing before the large machine, Din began pressing buttons and soon activated the scanner, its light projecting onto the front of his trooper helmet.

“Error, error. Facial scan incomplete.”

Dank farrik, Din silently cursed, sparing Valin Hess a quick glance before looking back at the terminal. Its lights began blinking red and while it began counting down from ten, Grogu’s wide eyes and small smile filled his mind; I’m doing what I have to for my clan, he reminded himself with a shaky breath, his hands reaching up and ripping the Imperial trooper helmet off of his head. His jaw was tightly clenched as he pressed more buttons in a desperate attempt to stop the countdown and rescan his face; after several agonizing seconds, the countdown was cut off and the terminal’s lights turned green. Biting his lip, Din plugged in the data stick and worked to download everything he could find that pertained to Moff Gideon as quickly as he could.

“Trooper!”

Din continued his work, knowing that he only had moments to finish the download and put his helmet back on before the commander tried getting his attention again. Just a few more seconds, he thought as his fingers began to tremble, fully aware of the footsteps that were beginning to approach him.

“Hey, trooper!” The moment the download was completed, Din yanked the data stick out of the terminal, grabbed his helmet and turned to face Valin Hess; the commander’s eyes were narrowed, and Din forced himself to maintain eye contact as he ignored his steadily-growing panic. “Pay attention when a superior addresses you.” Hess’s eyes examined his face for a moment before continuing. “What’s your designation?”

Din swallowed nervously, his mouth going dry as he struggled to think of a reply, and he sorely missed the confidence his beskar armor gave him when he slowly answered, “Transport crew.”

“What?”

“My designation is transport copilot,” He quickly corrected himself, inwardly cringing at how unconvincing his lie sounded to his own ears.

Hess’s brow furrowed. “No, son. What’s your TK number?”

“My…My TK number is…”

“This is my Commanding Officer TK-593, sir.” All of a sudden, Mayfeld was standing beside him with an overly-cheerful smile on his face. “I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant TK-111, sir. I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a little bit, since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.”

Hess turned back to Din and addressed him with a louder tone, “What’s your name, Officer?”

Din raised his brow but remained silent, unable to say his name or even make up one. Thankfully, Mayfeld spoke up for him again. “We just call him Brown Eyes.” He looked over at Din with a reassuring nod. “Isn’t that right, Officer?” With a small smile, Din nodded and Mayfeld grabbed his elbow. “Let’s go fill out those TPS reports for the captain so we can go recharge the power coils.” The man began leading him away from Hess and towards (Y/N), who was standing at the entrance of the mess hall and facing away from them; the sight of the captain only feet away filled Din with hope, hope that they’d successfully escape the refinery with the intel they needed to get Grogu back.

“You’re not dismissed.” The two of them stopped in their tracks, and Din noted (Y/N)’s tensed shoulders before turning to face Valin Hess. The commander looked at both of them as he called out, “Captain.” Din kept his eyes on Hess while the captain’s footsteps neared and stopped on the other side of Mayfeld. “These are the tank troopers who transported you from the landing pad and delivered the shipment of rhydonium?”

(Y/N)’s voice was clear and strong as she replied, “Yes, sir.”

Hess glanced back at the two of them. “Well, you two managed to protect a high-ranking officer and be the only transport today to deliver their shipment.” The commander’s lips curled into a smile and he rested his hands on Din and Mayfeld’s shoulders. “Let’s get a drink…” Din did everything he could to keep from recoiling when Hess looked directly at him. “Brown Eyes.”

He walked between them and they exchanged matching looks of concern before turning to follow Hess, who’s hand rested on the small of (Y/N)’s back as he led her over to an empty table. Din’s unoccupied hand clenched into a tight fist at the sight, a swell of anger briefly replacing his worry while he followed after them; he sat so that he was across from the captain and he watched with discomfort as the commander began pouring drinks beside him.

“So, what shall we toast to? I can blather on about ‘To health’ or ‘To success’…but I’d like to do somethin’ a little less rote.” Hess distributed the filled glasses before looking over at Din. “Where are you from, Brown Eyes?”

Din’s stomach clenched with anxiety. He’d traveled across the galaxy for his entire life but in that moment, with the Imperial commander sitting not three feet away from his exposed face, he couldn’t think of the name of a single planet; he was spared from answering when Mayfeld spoke up, “How ‘bout a toast to Operation Cinder?”

Hess’s brow rose in surprise and he looked over at (Y/N) with a grin. “Now there’s a man who knows his history, Captain.”

She smiled back but as soon as his attention returned to Mayfeld, her gaze dropped back down to stare at the tabletop. It took a moment for Din to realize why she was refusing to look up at any of them and once he did, he couldn’t stop his eyes from widening; even though he’d clearly broken it already, she was still trying her best to honor his Creed.

“No, I don’t just know it, I lived it.” Tearing his attention away from the captain, Din glanced over at Mayfeld and frowned in concern when he spotted the barely-concealed anger in the man’s eyes. “I was in Burnin Konn.”

(Y/N) visibly flinched at Mayfeld’s confession, but Hess didn’t seem to notice. “Burnin Konn? That was a hard day; I had to make many unpleasant decisions.”

The corner of Mayfeld’s mouth curved up as he nodded. “Yeah, you did. Entire city gone in moments, along with everybody in it…we lost our whole division that day. Man, that was like five, ten thousand people.”

Although he spoke in an offhand manner, Din could hear the pain in Mayfeld’s voice and despite his strong dislike of the man, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards him; (Y/N)’s gaze remained fixed on the tabletop but Hess’s eyes narrowed a little at Mayfeld’s statements. “Yep. All heroes to the Empire.”

“Yeah, and all dead.”

When Mayfeld’s eyes met his, Din gave him a barely-perceived head-shake, warning him to stay calm so that the three of them could get out of there alive with the coordinates. Unfortunately, his cautioning was interrupted by the commander’s next words. “Well, it’s a small sacrifice for the greater good, son.”

“Depends on who you ask, don’t you think?”

Maker, he has to shut up, Din internally bemoaned, his hands beginning to sweat inside his gloves while the two men talked. “What you gettin’ at, trooper?”

Mayfeld shrugged. “All those people, the ones who died…was it good for them? Hmm? Their families, the guys I served with? Civilians, those poor mud-scuffers, died defendin’ their homes…fighting for freedom. Was it good for them?”

As Din turned his head towards Hess, he caught sight of (Y/N) and the familiar look on her face made him freeze; it was the exact same expression she wore back on Nevarro, when she’d re-lived her traumatic experiences during the Rebellion, and with a jolt he realized that Mayfeld’s descriptions of Burnin Konn matched everything she told him about being a Rebel smuggler. It was entirely possible that she’d also witnessed the destruction at Burnin Konn the same as Mayfeld.

“But we’ve outlasted them, son, they’re eatin’ themselves alive.” Panicking, Din stretched his foot out underneath the table and nudged the tip of (Y/N)’s boot with his own to get her attention, but her eyes remained stubbornly downcast. “The New Republic is in complete disarray and we grow stronger. You see, with the rhydonium you’ve delivered we can create havoc that’s gonna make Burnin Konn just pale by comparison, and they’re gonna turn to us once again.” Hess leaned forward and rested his elbows on the tabletop, oblivious to their varying degrees of discomfort as he grinned. “You see, boys, everybody thinks they want freedom…but what they really want is order. Isn’t that right, Captain?”

(Y/N), looking almost sick at the commander’s words, swallowed hard and Din shifted his boot to touch hers again. This time, though, she looked up and his breath hitched when her (Y/E/C) eyes met his for the very first time. He’d always thought that her eyes were beautiful but without the obstruction of his helmet’s visor, he wasn’t sure there was a word in either Basic or Mando’a to do their beauty justice. Time almost seemed to halt as Din silently comforted her and pleaded with her to play along and after a tense moment, the hardened expression on her face softened; her eyes remained trained on his as she nodded and replied, “Yes, sir. Only order can come out of the chaos they’ve created.”

“And when they realize that, they’re gonna welcome us back with open arms.” Out of the corner of his eye, Din watched as Mayfeld’s face paled and his own stomach churned when Hess raised his glass, his grin widening. “To the Empire.”

Quick as a flash, Mayfeld reached for his blaster and shot the commander square in the chest, his lifeless body falling to the floor as Din and (Y/N) looked over at him in horror. Mayfeld’s own eyes were wide and while he glanced around the silent mess hall, Din was acutely aware of all the Imps that were sitting in stunned disbelief. Mayfeld opened fire on them, and both Din and (Y/N) dove for cover behind the table as blaster bolts lit up the dim room; Din retrieved Hess’s blaster from his holster before standing and shooting the last Imp, the mess hall now silent except for the sounds of their heaving breaths.

Din turned to Mayfeld, expecting some sort of taunt or quip about him removing his helmet, but his brow rose in surprise when all the man did was offer him his trooper helmet. “You did what you had to do. I never saw your face.” He pointedly turned away and when Din glanced over at (Y/N), he saw that she was doing the same; with the ghost of a smile on his face, he put the helmet back on and picked up the blaster in time to join Mayfeld in shooting at the attacking Stormtroopers.

All three of them climbed onto the windowsill and kicked the bottom metal blind off its hinges; since (Y/N) didn’t have a blaster to defend herself with, Din ushered her onto the ledge first before following after her, shooting at the Imps that were attempting to follow them while she and Mayfeld began climbing up the scaffolding on the side of the refinery. He’s aware of Cara and Fennec’s sniping of any Imperial troopers attempting to attack and he’s even aware of how high above the refinery’s churning water they are, but all he could think of was getting the three of them safely aboard Boba’s ship with the coordinates.

“Let’s move!”

“The hell you think I’m doin’?” Mayfeld retorted and as Din looked up, he watched as the man helped the captain climb over the edge of the refinery’s roof. He was quick to climb over the ledge next, noting the fast-approaching Slave I in the distance as he grabbed (Y/N)’s hand and ran towards the descending ship. “Go, go, go, go!” The ship’s ramp had just finished lowering when both Din and (Y/N) jumped off the rooftop’s edge and shakily landed, and they were soon followed by Mayfeld. Boba began flying away as Mayfeld, with his eyes trained on the refinery below, gestured back towards the hull of the ship. “Hand me that cycler rifle.” (Y/N) did as he asked, handing him the rifle with a firm nod, and she stood beside Din as the former Imperial sharpshooter aimed and fired. His shot directly hit a juggernaut full of rhydonium and erupted into a fiery explosion that destroyed the refinery in the blink of an eye. After hesitating a moment, Mayfeld turned to the two of them and shrugged before quietly offering, “We all need to sleep at night.”

They hurried into the hull and were taking their seats as Boba’s voice called down from the cockpit, “We’ve got company, hang on.”

Before they could do anything to brace themselves, the ship veered sharply to the left and (Y/N) ended up toppling into Din’s lap; he struggled to keep them both upright as Boba used evasive maneuvers to shake the two TIE Fighters behind them but after a familiar reverberation shook their seat, the ship slowed down. (Y/N)’s hold on Din’s neck loosened a little as she craned her neck to see out of the ship’s side viewport, an excited gleam in her eyes when she spoke for the first time since the mess hall. “Seismic charge. I’ve always wanted to use one of those.”

“They’re not exactly a weapon of choice for smugglers, alor’ad, only bounty hunters. Sounds like I’ve finally convinced you which profession’s better.”

(Y/N) looked over at him, a teasing smile on her face as his own grin widened beneath his helmet. “Bounty hunters have better toys, but they don’t do anyone any good if they don’t know how to use them.”

Din chuckled in amusement, resting his helmeted forehead against the captain’s and allowing himself a brief moment to revel in their success. We’re another step closer to getting you back, kid, he thought to himself, we’re almost there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, looks like it’s back to the scrap heap.”

Din, (Y/N), Cara and Mayfeld were standing together a little ways away from the Slave I; the three of them had changed out of their Imperial uniforms and now that he was back in his Mandalorian armor, Din felt comfortable again. He’d hesitated a brief moment before putting his beskar helmet back on, the part of him feeling guilty about breaking his Creed quickly giving way to acceptance. Like Mayfeld said, he’d done what he had to do to save Grogu, the second half of his Clan, and that was something he’d never regret.

Din inclined his head in Mayfeld’s direction. “Thank you for helping.”

“Yeah. Um, good luck gettin’ your kid back.” Mayfeld cast a furtive glance over in (Y/N)’s direction. “’Bout the things I said earlier, princess-”

“It’s all right, Mayfeld, we both said things we’re not proud of.” (Y/N)’s lips curled into a small smile. “Just promise never to call me ‘princess’ again and we’re square.”

Mayfeld snorted in amusement and nodded. “Sure thing, Captain.” He turned to Cara and held his wrists out towards her. “All right, Officer. Take me back.”

Taking a moment to examine his face, Cara finally replied, “That was some nice shootin’ back there.”

“Oh, you saw that? Yeah, that…that wasn’t part of the plan. I was just gettin’ some stuff off my chest.”

Cara looked over at Din and quirked her brow. “You know, it’s too bad Mayfeld didn’t make it out alive back there.”

A smile slowly grew on Din’s face. “Yeah, too bad.”

Mayfeld’s brow furrowed as he looked at them all in bewilderment. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Looked to me like Prisoner Number 34667 died in the refinery explosion on Morak.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement and Mayfeld took a tentative step backwards. “Does that mean I can go? Huh? ‘Cause I will…” The three of them remained silent and Din gestured towards the nearby treeline, watching as the baffled man took the silent invitation; he suddenly stopped to look back at them. “All right. Okay.” With a growing smile on his face, Mayfeld backed away and disappeared into the foliage.

Maybe now he’ll be able to sleep better at night, Din thought as he reached over to hold (Y/N)’s hand, looking away from where Mayfeld had disappeared from view and towards Cara as she asked, “You get the coordinates on Moff Gideon?”

“We did.”

“What’s our next move?”

After Din explained what he needed to do, Cara boarded the ship to prepare their equipment and he was left alone with (Y/N) for the first time since they’d confessed their love for one another. (Y/N) was biting her lip as she let go of his hand in favor of wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against the cool beskar of his chest-plate. “You okay, Din?” He hummed and relaxed into her embrace as she sighed. “Back in that mess hall, I tried everything I could to respect your Creed. I’m sorry that you had to take your helmet off.”

“I’m not,” Din confessed, holding her close and tucking her head under his chin. “Infiltrating a secret Imperial refinery wasn’t exactly the circumstance under which I wanted to show you my face, but I did what I had to do for the kid. And you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, (Y/N); this was my choice and my choice alone.” He leaned back so that he could examine her face. “You okay, alor’ad?”

“I’m better now that you’re here with me.” (Y/N) smiled up at him, the adoration in her eyes causing his heart to swell. “My sarcastic, intelligent, handsome Mandalorian that I love with all my heart.”

Unable to wait any longer, Din lifted the bottom of his helmet just enough to press his lips to hers in a brief but sweet kiss before lowering it again. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

(Y/N)’s arm was still looped around his waist as they began walking back to the Slave I. “So, under which circumstance were you gonna show me your face?”

“…Ask me that again once we get the kid back,” He replied, feeling his face beginning to warm as he tried not to think about his unspoken desire for their future. “Right now, we’ve got a warning to send.” They entered the ship and after checking that everything was ready, he stood in front of the equipment and took a steadying breath before speaking a variation of the words the Moff had spoken to him so long ago. “Moff Gideon. You have something I want. You may think you have some idea what you’re in possession of, but you do not. Soon, he will be back with me. He means more to me than you will ever know…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen
The Rescue

“Maker, these Lambda shuttles are hunks of junk,” (Y/N) grumbled to herself, entering the shuttle’s cockpit and moving to sit in the main pilot’s seat. After checking that Boba hadn’t accidentally damaged any of its functions when he’d used the ion cannon or when he’d latched onto its roof, she began charting their course; they’d all agreed that if they were going to storm Moff Gideon’s cruiser, then they’d need all the help that they could get and Din was dead-set on a familiar group of Mandalorians. “‘Might of the Galaxy,’ my ass…”

Just as she finished prepping for the jump to hyperspace, Cara entered the cockpit and plopped down in the co-pilot’s seat. “I took care of the bodies, stowed their weapons in the back. How’d everything lookin’ in here?”

“There’s some very minor damages caused by that ion cannon, but nothing too serious. We’re just waiting on word from-”

“Come in, (Y/N).”

She pressed a button beside the shuttle’s communication radio and replied, “(Y/N) here. Is everything good on your end?”

“Yep, we’re ready to leave when you are.” Once she assured Din that they were, the shuttle shook as Boba unlatched the Slave I. “I’ll see you when we land. Cuyir morut’yc, alor’ad. Be safe.”

(Y/N) smiled at his parting words, the Mando’a making her heart warm in her chest. “You too.” Switching off the communication radio, her hands flipped several switches before settling on one of the main levers. “Jumping to hyperspace in three…two…one.” She pushed the lever up, sending the Imperial shuttle flying into space; glancing away from the shuttle’s viewport, she took in Cara’s tense demeanor and furrowed her brow in concern. “Are you okay, Cara?”

The marshal glanced up with a brief smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. One of those Imps said some things that hit a little close to home, that’s all.” Nodding, (Y/N) moved to turn her attention back to the shuttle’s controls but stopped when Cara softly spoke her name and asked, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what made you decide to join the Rebellion?”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) hesitated for a moment before answering. “After my mother died and I left Naboo, I thought that I could turn a blind eye to the Empire and live my life the way I wanted. I’d spent my entire childhood under their control, after all; no one would fault me for wanting to enjoy my freedom. But the older I got, the harder it became to ignore all the suffering across the galaxy and when I caught wind that the Alliance Starfleet was looking to recruit smugglers, all I could think about were my mother’s last words to me…” Her fingers began playing with the bottom hem of her Shaak-skin jacket. “‘Choose courage over fear, and you can change the stars.’ So, that’s what I did.” She sniffed and let out an awkward chuckle before turning back to the controls. “I’m not sure if that’s the answer you were looking for, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

“I just needed to be reminded of all the good people who fought on our side…so yeah, it was a pretty good answer.”

The pair spent the rest of the journey in comfortable silence, soon coming out of hyperspace and entering the planet’s upper atmosphere. (Y/N) landed the shuttle beside the Slave I and followed Cara out onto the planet’s surface, where Din and Boba were already waiting. Although they’d only been apart for a short while, (Y/N) felt herself begin to relax as her eyes met the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet.

“You three go ahead, Fennec and I can keep an eye on Pershing,” Cara gave them a brief nod before turning and boarding the Slave I, where Fennec was securing the clone engineer’s wrists in binders.

“Let’s hope that this idea of yours’ll work.”

Din’s hand came to rest on the small of her back as the three of them began walking towards the small outpost. “It’ll work, alor’ad.” They made their way through the quiet outpost and entered the nearly-deserted cantina, where two familiar Mandalorians were enjoying their meals in the back of the room; exchanging a glance with Din, (Y/N) followed him over to their table and watched as the one Din claimed was named Koska nudged Bo-Katan, who immediately looked up at them. “We need your help.”

Bo-Katan’s brow rose as she examined the three of them. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters. Some of us serve a higher purpose.”

Frustration was evident in Din’s voice as he shot back, “They took the child.”

“Who?”

“Moff Gideon.” (Y/N) frowned, taking in the sudden shift of Bo-Katan’s demeanor. “What?”

The Mandalorian looked back down at the table before replying, “You’ll never find him.”

(Y/N) bit her lip to keep from saying anything derogatory and Din’s gloved hands tightened into fists, but it was Boba Fett who decided to speak up. “We don’t need these two, let’s get out of here.”

Din and Boba began turning away but (Y/N) froze, her eyes narrowing as she watched Bo-Katan look up at the bounty hunter with barely-concealed distaste. “You are not a Mandalorian.”

“Never said I was.”

Koska snorted in amusement. “I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk.”

Chuckling, Boba stepped closer to the Mandalorian. “Well, if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” Koska quickly stood, her chin jutted out in defiance, and (Y/N) had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the scene the two were making. “Easy there, little one.”

“You’ll be talking through the window of a bacta tank.”

“All right, easy,” Bo-Katan commanded. “Save it for the Imps.”

After a tense moment, Koska sat back down at the table and (Y/N) sighed in relief as she focused her attention back on Bo-Katan. “We have his coordinates.”

The Mandalorian blinked in surprise. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”

“The Moff has a light cruiser; it could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”

Beside Din, Boba scoffed at his words. “You gotta be kidding me, Mandalore? The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

(Y/N) exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms over her chest as both Mandalorians glared at the bounty hunter; it would’ve been less of a hassle to visit Tatooine and ask kriffing Cobb Vanth for help, she thought to herself, wearily watching Bo-Katan level her hardened gaze at Boba. “You are a disgrace to your armor.”

“This armor belonged to my father.”

“Don’t you mean your donor?”

Din and (Y/N), who’d both started forward to break up the confrontation, both froze in their tracks; the bounty hunters shoulders were tense as he took another step towards Bo-Katan. “Careful, princess.”

“You are a clone,” Bo-Katan smirked and both Mandalorians stood, their meals long forgotten. “I’ve heard your voice thousands of times.”

“Mine might be the last one you hear.”

Boba’s threat spurred Koska into finally attacking and the two of them began to viciously fight. Wrapping an arm around (Y/N)’s waist, Din tugged her to his side and held her securely against him as they watched the fight, sighing deeply in frustration. “Mandalorians.”

“I told you that we should’ve gotten Cobb Vanth’s help instead.” At her words, Din grumbled something under his breath and all she could make out was something that sounded suspiciously like ‘flirt,’ making the corner of her mouth curl into a small teasing grin. “I never would’ve pegged you as the jealous type, you’re such a calm and level-headed man…”

She could feel Din’s arm tighten around her waist and she just knew that he was rolling his eyes at her beneath his helmet. “Mir'sheb.”

“I love you too.” They both turned their attention back to the fight and (Y/N) nearly facepalmed when she saw the pair ignite their flamethrowers. “Dank farrik, this is getting ridiculous.”

It seemed that the second Mandalorian felt the same. “Enough, both of you! If we had shown half that spine to the Empire, we would have never lost our planet.” Boba and Koska both extinguished their flamethrowers and as the bounty hunter got to his feet, Bo-Katan turned to face her and Din. “We will help you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore.” The Mandalorian stepped closer to Din, and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed as she continued, “If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough.”

Din let go of her waist and was beginning to lead her towards the cantina’s door when Bo-Katan spoke up again. “One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me, it is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.”

“Almost anything,” Koska interjected.

Bo-Katan nodded. “It cannot cut through pure beskar.” At her words, (Y/N)’s thoughts instantly went to Ahsoka Tano and her two pure-white lightsabers; why would someone who’s not a Jedi want a weapon like that, she silently wondered, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.”

“Help us rescue the child and you can have whatever you want,” He nearly snapped, and (Y/N) could tell that Bo-Katan was beginning to frustrate him. “He is our only priority.”

“If we’re all done fighting with each other, we should head back to the ship.” (Y/N) interjected, turning and leading the way back to the Slave I; walking beside Din, she quietly asked, “Was it just me or was that whole Darksaber thing a little strange?” He nodded but remained silent, and soon they were all boarding the ship.

Bo-Katan and Koska joined Cara in pulling up a hologram of Moff Gideon’s cruiser and Fennec made her way over to where (Y/N) and Din were leaning against the wall of the ship. “These two seem like they’re fun to hang around.”

(Y/N) smiled in amusement. “Yeah, they’re a barrel of laughs. I’ve gotta admit, it’s a little aggravating that they care more about Moff Gideon’s cruiser and his Darksaber than Grogu.”

“I know, but we need them to get onboard that cruiser.” Din glanced over at Dr. Pershing. “Has he said anything yet?”

Fennec shook her head. “Nothing. Want me to make him talk?”

“No, it’s okay; I’ve got a feeling he’ll be helpful on his own.”

Bo-Katan called them over and they moved closer as she pointed to the hologram. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days, it would carry a crew of several hundred but now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.”

“Your assessment is misleading.”

(Y/N) turned around to look at Dr. Pershing; the clone engineer was staring at the floor, his mouth set in a firm line. He certainly doesn’t act like the typical Imp, she thought to herself while Cara scoffed. “Oh great, an objective opinion.”

Dr. Pershing’s eyes flicked up to meet theirs. “This isn’t subterfuge, I assure you.” He turned to (Y/N) and after taking a moment to examine his pleading face, she nodded for him to continue. “There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child.”

Across from (Y/N), Cara began cleaning one of her knives with a spare rag. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”

“These are a third-generation design; they are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved…they’re droids.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “It’s true, I saw them when they took…when they took Grogu.” She turned back to the clone engineer. “Where are they bivouacked?”

Dr. Pershing got up from his seat and moved to stand beside the hologram. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay.” He pointed to a section of the cruiser. “They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“And how long to power up?” Fennec asked, her eyes narrowing as she examined the hologram before them.

“A few minutes, perhaps.”

“Where is the child being held?” Din’s words were clipped and business-like, but (Y/N) could detect the pain in his voice as he spoke.

The clone engineer brought up a different section of the hologram that clearly looked like a cell. “This is the brig. The child’s being held here under armed guard.”

“Very well,” Bo-Katan examined the hologram while she continued, “We split into two parties.”

(Y/N) felt the smooth leather of Din’s glove brush her hand. “(Y/N) and I go alone.”

Bo-Katan sighed but nodded. “Fine. Phase One, Lambda shuttle issues a distress call. Two, we emergency land at the mouth of the fighter launch tube, cutting off any potential interceptors. Koska, Fennec, Dune and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralized the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks in a penetration maneuver.”

“And the two of us?” (Y/N) asked.

“We’ll be misdirection; once we draw a crowd, you two slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

Cara stopped cleaning her knife and glanced up at them all. “Those dark troopers are gonna be a real skank in the scud pie.”

Leaning closer to the hologram, (Y/N) observed, “Their bay is on the way to the brig.” She looked over at Dr. Pershing. “Can we make it there before they deploy?”

He nodded. “It’s possible.”

“Here,” Fennec grabbed a code cylinder from the clone engineer’s pocket and handed it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

Din clutched the code cylinder in his hand, the visor of his helmet looking down at (Y/N) while he replied, “We’ll meet you all at the bridge. Now, let’s start planning out Phase One…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After they finalized their plan, they all boarded the Lambda shuttle and entered hyperspace, closely followed by Boba in the Slave I. (Y/N) was seated in the main pilot’s chair at the others’ insistence; for their plan to work, they needed to look as if they were under attack by Boba’s ship, and there was no one better qualified to perform that type of flying than her. The others were keeping busy by cleaning their blasters and donning their armor, but Din was motionless in the co-pilot seat beside her; Moff Gideon doesn’t have a clue what’s in store for him when Din gets a hold of him, she thought to herself, her eyes still trained on the swirling blue outside of the viewport.

As if in-tuned with her thoughts, Din suddenly stood and asked her to join him in the back compartment. She followed him deeper into the shuttle and once they entered the compartment, she shut the door behind them; just as she was turning around to face him, she heard the unmistakable sound of his beskar helmet being removed and her heart leapt into her throat. She reached a hand out towards the control panel to dim the lights, but a larger hand appeared and halted hers; Din’s tanned fingers gently held her wrist, bringing it up to where he stood behind her and pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Please, I…I need you to see me, alor’ad.”

Taking a steadying breath, (Y/N) slowly turned around and looked up at Din’s face. Back in the refinery on Morak, she didn’t have much time to closely examine her partner’s features but what she had studied were his eyes; they were the warmest shade of brown and, much to her surprise, incredibly expressive. Meeting his concerned gaze had quickly calmed her down and made her feel safe in that mess hall, and the same was true in the shuttle’s back compartment.

Her gaze left his as she took the opportunity to examine the rest of him; his hair was also brown, the soft waves matted a little from the helmet, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed, the hair above his lip a little thicker than the rest of it. His brow and nose were prominent, but his jawline had more of a curve to it, and the last thing she looked at were his lips; they were chapped and his bottom lip was more plump than the top, something that she’d noticed whenever they’d kissed in the dark on the Razor Crest. As she watched, his lips parted and when her eyes flicked back up to his, he was closely watching her with nervousness written across his features. Smiling, (Y/N) rested a hand against the soft skin and stubble of his cheek as she brought his hand up to her lips, kissing each knuckle before finally speaking. “Mesh’la.”

Din released a shuddering breath as his eyes darted over her face. “You…?”

“That’s Mando’a for ‘beautiful,’ right? Oh Maker, I didn’t say an insult by accident or anything, did I?” (Y/N) rambled, her panic beginning to rise as Din remained silent. “Son of a-”

In a flash, Din’s lips were on hers and he was kissing her with an unrelenting passion as his arms held her close. (Y/N) got over her initial shock and began kissing him back, her hands moving up to his hair and carding through the thick locks; Din moaned as her fingernails lightly scraped against his scalp and before she registered what was happening, he was hoisting her up into his arms and stumbling backwards to sit on the edge of the bunk. She was straddling his thighs and their bodies were flush against one another when they finally broke apart for air, but that didn’t stop Din; while she struggled to catch her breath, he began pressing kisses all over her face and neck, finally pulling away after kissing her lips one final time. He was beaming up at her, his brown eyes bright as his smile widened, and one of his hands came up to caress her cheek.

“I’d ask if you really meant that, but I already know that you do.” Din’s hand trailed down her neck to rest flat against her chest, right above where her heart was. “Because of this. You have the biggest heart, alor’ad, the biggest heart out of everyone I’ve ever met. It’s just…I can’t help but think I don’t deserve the love you’ve given me.”

“That makes two of us, Din.” (Y/N) replied, watching his eyes flutter closed while her fingers brushed the hair away from his forehead. “Sometimes I feel that you’re too good to me.”

Din shook his head, the loving look he gave her when he opened his eyes almost making her cry. “You deserve everything I can give you and more, you and the kid…” At the mention of Grogu, Din’s smile dimmed a little and his hand moved away from her chest to rest against the side of her neck. “(Y/N), if I…if things end up going sideways, I want you to continue our quest. Find a Jedi that will train the kid; you’re the only person I trust to do it.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) nodded. “Of course I will, but don’t forget what you promised me that day in the meadow. ‘Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.’” She held his face in between her hands and lowered her head to rest against his. “Please don’t forget that.”

“Never, alor’ad,” Din breathed, pressing feather-light kisses to her lips that managed to soothe her shaky nerves. “I could never.”

They sat there in the shuttle’s back compartment for several more minutes, their arms wrapped tightly around one another as they took solace in each other’s embrace. But their peaceful solitude came to an end when Din suggested they return to the shuttle’s cockpit and with a final kiss, (Y/N) slid off his lap and he put his helmet back on before opening the compartment’s door. That wasn’t a goodbye, she sternly told herself while they walked side-by-side, even if it felt a little like one.

Once back in the cockpit, (Y/N) resumed her seat, methodically checking system functions in preparation for Phase One as Bo-Katan took the co-pilot’s seat beside her. I’m not sure if she can be trusted, she thought to herself, watching the helmet-less Mandalorian out of the corner of her eye; Bo-Katan was hell-bent on finding Moff Gideon and retaking Mandalore, and (Y/N) had an uneasy feeling that she didn’t care who perished in her pursuit for vengeance. Her suspicions were confirmed when Bo-Katan called out, “Moff Gideon is mine. Got it?”

“He’s ex-ISB,” Cara pointed out from behind them. “He’s got a lot of information, I need him alive.”

Bo-Katan merely shrugged. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”

That made (Y/N)’s brow arch but she stayed silent, her hands continuing to fly over the buttons and switches; despite the seriousness of their situation, she couldn’t help but thrill at the opportunity to pilot a ship in a combat situation again. She sensed Din moving to stand directly behind her seat just as Boba Fett’s voice emitted from the communication radio. “Prepare to exit jump space.”

“Copy that,” (Y/N) replied, pressing a blinking button beside her before resting her hand on the shuttle’s main lever. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock.”

Beside her, Bo-Katan smirked to herself. “And your shots have to look convincing.”

(Y/N) heard Din heave an exasperated sigh as Boba chuckled. “Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.”

“Watch out for those deck cannons, okay? They’re real pieces of work; I’ve seen them take down X-Wings with a single shot.”

“Don’t worry about me, Captain, I’ll be all right.” Boba reassured her. “Just be careful in there.”

Nodding to herself, (Y/N) gripped the main lever and announced, “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

She pulled the lever down and returned her hands to the joysticks in front of her as the shuttle exited hyperspace. Moff Gideon’s cruiser loomed ahead of them and her stomach clenched in fury, speculations about what they might’ve done to Grogu unwillingly filling her mind. Giving her head a small shake, she yanked the joysticks to the right and dodged the shots Boba aimed at them before connecting their communication radio to the cruiser. “This is Lambda Shuttle 2743, requesting emergency docking.” She swerved again, making sure that her flying didn’t look too skilled as she continued. “Repeat, requesting emergency docking. We are under attack!”

There was a brief pause before a female Imperial officer responded. “Copy, Lambda Shuttle. Request received. Stay clear of launch tube, deploying fighter squadron.” They watched as the one of the cruiser’s TIE Fighters deployed and with a sideways glance at her co-pilot, (Y/N) flew the shuttle towards the exposed launch tube; she winced a little when they were almost clipped by a second TIE Fighter and the female officer called out, “Request denied! Please clear launch tube until fighters deploy!”

“Negative, negative! We are under attack!” Flipping a switch above her, (Y/N) increased their speed and steered the shuttle towards the launch tube straight ahead. In all her time as a smuggler, she could honestly say that this was the first time she’d ever piloted a speeding shuttle directly into another ship and without a proper landing array; it’s like Ahsoka said, she thought as her forehead began to bead with sweat, good or bad they’re always memorable.

“Clear launch tube immediately!”

(Y/N)’s arms began to shake with the effort of holding the joysticks steady, biting her lip while Bo-Katan activated their landing gear just in time for them to speed into the launch tube. Behind her, Fennec shouted, “Hang on!” and Din’s gloved hands clutched the back of her seat when the shuttle bumped against the sides of the launch tube. (Y/N)’s hands were on autopilot as she flipped switches and slammed buttons and in no time, she succeeded in making the shuttle slide to a complete stop. Her chest heaved and she struggled to catch her breath as the others got up and gathered their weapons, a part of her in absolute disbelief that she’d succeeded in landing them safely inside the cruiser.

“Well, alor’ad, you finally convinced me,” Din remarked, watching as she got to her feet and drew her blaster. “Smugglers are better pilots than bounty hunters.”

That made (Y/N) smile. “I think you meant to say that smugglers are better at everything, not just piloting.”

“Don’t push your luck, mir’sheb,” He jokingly retorted, his gloved hand resting against the small of her back; the two of them made their way over to where the four women were preparing to lower the shuttle’s ramp. “Good luck.”

Cara flashed them both a brief smile. “You too.”

 Once the ramp lowered, the four of them stormed out of the shuttle and began taking out the Stormtroopers that had surrounded them. Blaster fire and dying screams rang through the air while (Y/N) and Din waited to exit the shuttle, their free hands holding each other’s tightly until everything was silent once again; (Y/N) looked up at Din just as he turned towards her and gave him a firm nod. “Let’s go and get Grogu back.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty
The Farewell

While Din and (Y/N) crept their way through the hallways of Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, Din’s heartbeat steadily escalated, so much so that he was surprised that the captain couldn’t hear it. In any other situation, he would’ve preferred an outright fight like the one his four companions were facing on the other side of the cruiser, but he understood that this was their best chance at rescuing Grogu and stopping the dark troopers from deploying. If anything’s happened to the kid then nothing in the galaxy will stop me from killing Moff Gideon where he stands, Din thought darkly to himself, cautiously turning another corner and gesturing for (Y/N) to follow.

The sound of approaching Stormtroopers made the two of them dart into a small opening to their right and flatten themselves against the wall as two Stormtroopers hurried by on their way to the bridge. Beside him, the captain breathed out a small sigh of relief and followed him while they continued on their way, hiding themselves whenever troopers or droids appeared; but when they finally reached the dark trooper’s holding bay, the door was already opening and the troopers on the other side of it were preparing to exit.

“No, no!” Din ran forward, pulling out Dr. Pershing’s code cylinder and placing it into the holding bay’s control panel. The doors stopped opening and begin to close, but the dark troopers didn’t stop moving; (Y/N) began shooting at the nearest dark trooper in a desperate attempt to halt its movements and as they watched, its hands caught either edge of the doors and pulled them apart just far enough to squeeze through. Before either of them could react, the droid’s arm shot out and hit (Y/N) hard enough to send her flying into a nearby wall, falling into an unmoving heap as her forehead began bleeding from a sizable cut. “(Y/N)!”

The dark trooper punched Din directly in the front of his helmet, knocking him back into the opposite wall before slowly stalking towards him. The beskar spear he’d secured to his jetpack clattered to the ground and he began firing his blaster at the droid as he stumbled to his feet, but the dark trooper simply grabbed his wrist and twisted it. His blaster fell out of his grip and he was powerless to stop the dark trooper from grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall; its free hand clenched into a fist and began punching directly into his helmet, but the beskar refused to give.

The glass of the holding bay doors cracked as the remaining dark troopers attempted to break out and a pipe behind Din’s head burst and surrounded him in steam, and all the while the droid continued its attack. Frantic, Din activated his flamethrower and watched as the dark trooper’s inner mechanisms caught fire, but it merely threw him off to the side in retaliation; he landed just below the control panel but just as he reached up to pull the lever that controlled the holding bay’s outer doors, the dark trooper threw him across the floor. He groaned in pain and had already pushed himself onto his knee when the droid kicked him in the chest, sending him slide back several feet; it shot its blaster at him while he sat up but the bolts bounced off his beskar armor, so Din activated his whistling birds and aimed them at the dark trooper, but they did about as good against it as its blaster bolts had done against him.

“Din, catch!”

Din looked up to see (Y/N) propped up off the ground by one hand while the other held the beskar spear aloft; she threw it as hard as she could and Din snatched it out of the air, ramming its sharp point into the space underneath the dark trooper’s head. With a sharp pull upwards, he decapitated it and watched as its lifeless metal body clattered to the ground before hurrying over to the control panel; he yanked the lever down and let out an exhausted sigh of relief when the dark troopers were sucked into space.

A whimper of pain made Din whirl around, and panic overtook him as he hurried to help (Y/N) stand. Ignoring the cut on her forehead that hadn’t yet stopped bleeding, the captain looked him over with wide, frightened eyes. “Maker, are you okay?! Did that thing hurt you?!”

“I’m fine, alor’ad, I promise,” He winced as he recalled the sickening sound of her colliding with the wall. “Anything broken?” She shook her head. “Okay, let’s go.”

The two of them hurried down the hallways of the cruiser towards the brig, their pace quickening the closer they got. All Din could think about now that they’d taken care of the dark troopers was Grogu, and it was thoughts of finally seeing the child again that made him ignore his aching body and push on. Turning the corner, he spotted two armed Stormtroopers standing guard in front of one cell and without any forewarning, he darted forward and attacked; he knocked the blaster out of the first trooper’s hands, using his free hand to hold the trooper back while he rammed the spear into the second trooper’s chest. He ducked behind the first trooper and held the spear in both hands as he pulled it against the trooper’s neck; the trooper lifted off the ground and Din only released him when he heard his neck crack.

After attaching the spear back onto his jetpack, he looked over at his partner and was a little surprised by the vengeful gleam in her eyes; he’d been careful not to lose control over himself after their violent encounter with Gor Koresh, knowing that she was uncomfortable with bloodshed, but the loss of Grogu seemed to change her stance on the matter. Mayfeld really was right about crossing lines when you’re desperate, Din thought to himself, moving to stand beside her as she pressed a button on the control panel and opened the cell door.

Standing at the opposite end of the cell was Moff Gideon, the Darksaber Bo-Katan described ignited and held aloft over Grogu’s head; the child, who’s hands were fastened together with binders, looked up at Din and (Y/N) and cooed softly, his ears lifting up as his large eyes widened.

Din tore his gaze away from the child to focus on Gideon, his jaw tightening in fury as the Imperial commander smirked. “Drop the blasters. Slowly.” Din hadn’t realized that he’d drawn his blaster but he followed the command as Gideon lowered the Darksaber another inch, setting his blaster down beside (Y/N)’s. “Now kick them over to me.” They kicked their weapons away and Gideon’s smirk grew. “Very nice.”

“Give us the kid.”

“The kid is just fine where he is,” Gideon replied, returning his gaze to the Darksaber in his hands; (Y/N) tensed beside Din when the Imperial commander began waving the weapon above Grogu’s head, and Din’s hands tightened into fists when the child let out a frightened coo. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan.” Din’s shoulders tensed and Gideon chuckled. “Yes, I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice: assume that I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only slavo,” His gaze shifted to (Y/N). “And that you’ve fallen in love with the former Rebellion smuggler that you’ve been traveling with for several months.”

Din’s eyes widened, his blood running cold at the commander’s words, and beside him, (Y/N) harshly asked, “Where’s this going?”

“This is where it’s going, Captain: I’m guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge seeking me, or more accurately, this.” He raised the Darksaber. “But I’m not there. And I imagine that they’ve killed everyone on the bridge, being the murderous savages that they are, and now they’re beginning to panic. You see, she wants this. Do you know why?” Neither Din nor (Y/N) answered. “Because it brings power. Whoever wields this sword has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne.”

“You keep it,” Din focused on Grogu as he continued. “I just want the kid.”

Gideon contemplated his words for several long moments before finally nodding. “Very well.” He sheathed the Darksaber and Din suppressed his sigh of relief. “I’ve already got what I want from him…his blood. All I wanted was to study his blood. This child is extremely gifted and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy.” He looked between Din and (Y/N), almost as if he was studying them. “I can see both your bonds with this child. Take him…but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.”

Meeting (Y/N)’s wary expression, Din walked with her to where Grogu was seated while Gideon backed away; the child cooed as they approached, his tiny hands lifting as far as the binders would allow, and Din’s heart clenched at the sight. He reached down to pick Grogu up, to finally hold the child in his arms again, but before he could the cell filled with the sound of the Darksaber re-igniting and colliding with the back of his jetpack. Din straightened in surprise just as the Darksaber came swinging towards his helmeted head, but he blocked the powerful strike with his vambrace and managed to shove (Y/N) out of the way. Gideon’s attacks kept coming as Din stumbled backwards and after he blocked a particularly hard strike, Din ducked beneath the commander’s extended arm and stood to face him. Seeing that Gideon was holding his weapon at the ready, he reached back and unsheathed the beskar spear, tensing for battle while his opponent merely smirked.

“When I learned that you’d been traveling across the galaxy with a companion, I almost didn’t believe it; you’re not exactly a people person, after all.” Gideon glanced over Din’s shoulder at the open cell door and raised a taunting brow. “But Captain (Y/L/N)’s different from them, isn’t she? Tell me, do you think she’ll stay silent before I cut her down with this blade, or will she beg for her life like the coward she truly is?”

A surge of white-hot anger unlike anything he’d ever experienced overtook Din, his vision going red as he made the first move, raising the spear above his head and bringing it down hard; Gideon blocked the powerful strike and Din’s eyes widened when the Darksaber’s hit made the beskar spear begin to glow with heat. The two of them exchanged several more blows and just when he thought he had the upper hand after forcing the Darksaber’s blade into the wall beside them, the commander began forcing him backwards; the weapon cut through the wall like butter, sending sparks flying and forcing Din to brace his spear against his vambrace. He gritted his teeth in pain as the piece of beskar armor dug sharply into his arm and his muscles trembled with the effort to hold the Darksaber at bay, but failure wasn’t an option; he had to defeat Moff Gideon, to protect the captain and the child from any more harm.

“I was planning on killing her first, but I think I have a better plan,” The commander spat, his face only inches away from the visor of Din’s helmet. “I’ll make her watch while I kill you and your friends, ensuring that when I finally put her out of her misery, she’ll be all alone in the galaxy, just as you were when your parents were killed.”

It was as if a switched had been flipped within Din; if he’d been fighting hard before, then Gideon’s taunts had made him lose any semblance of self-control. He forced the Darksaber back and deflected the next attack, kicking Gideon hard in the leg before bringing his foot back and kicking the spear up over his head to block a second swing. Whirling around, Din swung at the commander with the spear before launching his whipcord at Gideon, who simply cut through it and advanced towards him with the Darksaber raised over his head; he caught the glowing blade against his spear, watching the beskar begin to turn orange from the heat and Gideon’s expression grow more angered, and in that moment he knew exactly what to do. He let Gideon push him back and blocked his next strike with his vambrace, sliding his arm out from beneath the blade and taking advantage of the commander’s off-balance by shoving the spear’s tip towards his exposed throat; just as he expected, Gideon halted its movement with his hand and Din was quick to kick him against the wall, disarming him and hitting him across the face with one swift motion.

The Darksaber clattered to the ground as Din held the tip of the spear to Gideon’s neck, breathing heavily beneath his helmet. Tightening his grip on the spear, Din growled, “It’s over. You’ll never get the chance to harm the kid, (Y/N) or anyone else in the galaxy…the New Republic will make sure of that.”

“You’re sparing my life?” Gideon, an incredulous smile spreading across his face while his mouth bled. “Well, this should be interesting.”

The smug look on the commander’s face nearly made Din ignore Cara’s earlier warning but he resisted the temptation, instead hitting him on his temple and watching his unconscious body slump to the ground. Sheathing the beskar spear, Din turned and hurried over to Grogu’s cell. “Alor’ad? Kid?” He entered the cell and was instantly met with the sight of (Y/N), one arm clutching the child to her chest while the other was aiming a blaster at the doorway; her eyes were widened in fright, and he was quick to raise his hands in surrender. “It’s just me, (Y/N), it’s Din!”

(Y/N) lowered her blaster and took a shuddering breath, her (Y/E/C) eyes beginning to well up with tears. “Din…” In three long strides, Din was at her side and pressing the front of his helmet against her forehead, his own tears beginning to stream down his face as his arm pulled her close. “We’re okay, Din, we’re all okay…” She pulled away from him and smiled, carefully placing Grogu into the crook of his free arm. “He missed you.”

Grogu snuggled into Din’s side, his head moving to rest against the beskar chest plate as he let out a content coo; he bit his lip to keep it from trembling and held the child close, relief washing over him. They’d finally been reunited with the child and as the three of them stood inside the cell, Din couldn’t help but be reminded of a common Mando’a saying; aliit ori’shya tal’din…family is more than blood. This is my family, he thought with a growing smile as he tightened his hold on (Y/N) and Grogu, in every single sense of the word.

“Where’s Gideon?” (Y/N) asked, a hardened edge to her voice that matched the expression on her face. “I know that Cara wants him alive, but a part of me hopes that you killed him for everything he’s done.”

Din’s jaw clenched and he nodded. “Believe me, alor’ad, keeping him alive wouldn’t be my first choice but Cara’s right; everything he knows could be useful to the New Republic.”

With a sigh, (Y/N) stretched up and pressed a kiss to the side of his helmet. “Well, let’s go deliver the son of a mud-scuffer to Marshal Dune and get the kriff off this cruiser…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What happened?” Bo-Katan demanded, her eyes narrowing as she watched the small group walk through the bridge of the cruiser; Din, who had the ignited Darksaber in one hand while he held Grogu against his chest with the other, walked behind a shackled Moff Gideon and beside (Y/N), who’s blaster was drawn and aimed at the commander’s back. Din was pleased to see the evidence of his companions’ success, walking past dead Stormtroopers and Imperial officers on his way to the helmet-less Mandalorian.

“They brought him in alive, that’s what happened.” Cara grinned, walking over to them and giving Grogu’s wrinkled head a small pat. “And now the New Republic’s gonna have to double the payment.”

“That’s not what she’s talking about,” Din looked up from the child to see Gideon and Bo-Katan staring each other down, the former beginning to smirk in amusement. “Why don’t you kill him now and take it?” Din frowned in confusion and (Y/N) tensed beside him, both watching Cara roughly shove the commander down to onto the ground; Gideon’s grin didn’t waiver as he looked up at Din and continued. “It’s yours now.”

His frown deepened. “What is?”

“The Darksaber. It belongs to you.”

Without a second thought, Din sheathed the Darksaber and walked forward to where Bo-Katan stood, holding its hilt out for her to take. “Now, it belongs to her.”

But Bo-Katan made no move to take it, and Gideon chuckled in amusement. “She can’t take it. It must be won in battle.”

“What are you talking about?”

Gideon shrugged at (Y/N)’s demand. “It’s quite simple, Captain (Y/L/N). In order for her to wield the Darksaber again, she would need to defeat your Mandalorian in combat.”

Shaking his head in exasperation, Din turned back to an unmoving Bo-Katan. “I yield. It’s yours.”

The helmet-less Mandalorian continued to silently stare and an unsettling feeling began to form in the pit of Din’s stomach; while Gideon continued speaking, he felt (Y/N) move to stand beside him and rest her hand on his unarmored side. “Oh, no. It doesn’t work that way. The Darksaber doesn’t have power, the story does. Without the blade, she’s just a pretender to the throne.”

“He’s right,” Bo-Katan spoke quietly, finally looking away from him to glare at the entertained commander.

Din heaved a sigh of annoyance. “Come on, just take it.”

He didn’t want or even care about the throne of Mandalore; as far as he was concerned, his mission had already been completed and he’d be free to leave with his reunited family. But as the tension in the bridge began to grow, he realized with a sinking feeling that there wouldn’t be an easy solution to their new problem.

Before anyone could say or do anything, a warning alarm began loudly beeping throughout the bridge and while everyone looked around the room for the source, Gideon quipped, “Well, perhaps she’ll get another crack at it.”

Fennec hurried over to one of the monitors. “The ray shields have been breached; we’re being boarded.”

“How many life forms?”

Turning away from the monitor to face (Y/N), the assassin gravely replied, “None.”

“You’re about to face off with the dark troopers,” Gideon announced. (Y/N)’s hand that rested on Din’s side tightened and he clenched his jaw; he could still feel the aches and pains from his encounter with the single droid he’d fought, and judging by the smirk on the commander’s face, he knew exactly what he was thinking. “You had your hands full with one, but let’s see how you do against a platoon.”

The two Mandalorians strode across the room to a different bank of monitors and while Cara shoved Gideon back down onto the ground, Din walked behind another tall monitor and knelt down. He set Grogu down and smiled softly when the child’s large ears drooped a little. “Don’t worry, kid, I’m gonna get you and (Y/N) out of here.” Patting his wrinkled head, he stood and made his way back to where the captain stood; she’d already drawn her blaster and was gripping it tightly as she anxiously bit her lip, her eyes trained on the closed doors to the bridge. “Are you ready for this, alor’ad?”

(Y/N) nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She glanced over at him, her eyes softening a little while she lowered her voice. “What about you, Din?”

“I’m ready,” Din drew his own blaster and reached for her free hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he continued, “I’ve got a couple of very good reasons to keep fighting.”

The captain opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Fennec’s shout. “Seal the blast doors!”

Koska slammed her fist down on the large red button, causing the thick steel to seal itself over the bridge doors; not long after, the distant echoes of the marching troopers grew louder and she called out, “They’re here.”

Each person in the room readied themselves for battle; Bo-Katan and Koska put their helmets back on and drew their blasters, Fennec grabbed a blaster rifle off of a dead Stormtrooper and braced it against her shoulder, Cara took her position at the back of the room and raised her sturdy blaster rifle, and both Din and (Y/N) aimed their blasters at the doors as they stood side-by-side. The sounds of marching droids suddenly stopped, but it was soon replaced by the sounds of metal slamming against metal; the bridge began to shake with each hit to the doors and to Din’s horror, the metal began to cave in.

“You have an impressive fire team protecting you,” Gideon spoke up and although he kept his eyes trained on the weakening blast doors, Din could still detect the thinly-veiled menace behind his words. “But I think we all know that after a valiant stand, everyone in this room will be dead…but me and the child.”

The dark trooper’s attack continued and as their hits became even louder, Din was unwittingly reminded of the worst day of his life…

Explosions filled the air and people screamed, running as fast as they could from the attacking droids…Din buried his face in the crook of his father’s neck, feeling his mother’s hand resting on his back as they hurried through the smoke-filled streets…dying screams of terror were drown out by fiery bombs and blaster fire…his mother and father hugged him one last time before hiding him away in the cellar…

Din was suddenly pulled out of his memories by the feeling of a hand taking hold of his and when he looked over at the captain, her eyes were filled with sympathy and understanding. His erratic heartbeat began to slow and once his breathing evened out, (Y/N)’s fingers tightened around his and she whispered, “Ner cyar’ika beroya, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

(Y/N)’s face was bruised and caked with dried blood from the cut on her forehead and her body was beginning to show signs of fatigue, but while she stood beside him and recited his own words he’d spoken to her in that heavenly meadow, Din thought that she’d never looked more beautiful. If I really am gonna die today, then I want the last thing I think of to be her, he thought as he squeezed her fingers back. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika beroya.”

The two of them turned their attention back to the concaving doors, their hands remaining joined as they readied themselves for the imminent battle. They were taken by surprise, however, when the warning alarm began to sound once again; everyone turned to watch as Bo-Katan strode over to one of the monitors and a distinct-looking ship flew past the cruiser’s viewport. “An X-Wing.”

“One X-Wing?” Cara asked incredulously, tightening her hold on her heavy blaster rifle. “Great, we’re saved.”

“Incoming craft, identify yourself.”

Bo-Katan’s demand was unanswered through the communication radio, and Din watched the monitor with a furrowed brow while the X-Wing docked into the cruiser’s hangar right beside their abandoned Lambda shuttle. Beside him, (Y/N) sucked in a surprised breath and it took a moment to realize why; the droids had stopped their attack, plunging the bridge into an eerie silence and making (Y/N) frown in concern. “Why did they stop?”

Unwilling to stand down just yet, Din continued to aim his blaster at the doors and didn’t look away until Bo-Katan spoke again. “A Jedi?”

Din dropped (Y/N)’s hand and turned to face the monitors, watching with widened eyes as a figure dressed in a dark cloak began cutting through the dark troopers with a lightsaber; he was vaguely aware of the captain moving over to where Grogu was hidden, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the powerful Jedi. Maybe this Jedi sensed Grogu through the Force all the way back on Tython, he reasoned to himself. At the sound of blaster fire, Din whirled around to see Gideon firing a blaster at Bo-Katan, who was protected from harm by her beskar armor but ducked out of his way, revealing (Y/N) kneeling on the ground beside a cooing Grogu.

“No!” Without a second thought, Din dove in front of the captain and the child just as Gideon fired, his blaster bolts ricocheting off of his beskar armor.

“Drop it!” Fennec ordered as everyone in the room save for Din and (Y/N) aimed their weapons at the commander. He remained motionless for several moments before moving the muzzle of the blaster to rest underneath his chin, but Cara slammed the butt of her blaster rifle into the side of his head before he had a chance to pull the trigger.

Gideon fell to the ground in an unmoving heap, which was when Din rolled over with a wince and allowed (Y/N) to help him up. Looking around, he saw that Grogu had climbed onto a chair and was watching the Jedi’s progress through the monitor with interest, so he and (Y/N) moved to stand beside him and silently watch the Jedi enter the elevator that led up to the bridge’s level. Once they exited the elevator, they began tearing through the battalion of droids with ease and using the Force just as Ahsoka Tano had done back on Corvus; when the Jedi began nearing the door to the bridge, Grogu let out an insistent coo and met the visor of Din’s helmet before pointing towards them.

Biting his lip, Din gave the child a nod and turned towards the others. “Open the doors.” Everyone looked over at him in shock but made no move to comply with his command. “I said, open the doors.”

Fennec huffed out an exasperated breath. “Are you crazy?”

“It’s debatable,” (Y/N) replied, striding over to the other bank of monitors and pressing a red button while Din set Grogu down on a chair closer to the blast doors. The doors slowly creaked open, spewing forth thick smoke that filled the entire hallway; the hooded Jedi walked through the smoke and their green-colored lightsaber was still ignited as they came to a stop before them all, sheathing the blade and clipping the hilt to their belt before lowering the hood of their black cloak.

The Jedi was a young man, younger than both Din and (Y/N), with vivid blue eyes filled with a surprising amount of wisdom. He held his gloved wrist with his uncovered hand, his relaxed stance making it clear that he wasn’t there to harm them; Din glanced over at (Y/N) before turning back to the man and asking, “Are you a Jedi?”

“I am,” The Jedi answered; his gaze shifted to where Grogu was seated and with a small smile, he held out his un-gloved hand to the child. “Come, little one.”

Din looked over to the chair Grogu was sitting on, his brow furrowing in worry as he took in the child’s drooping ears and the way his tiny hands clutched the edge of the seat. The child stared up at him with widened eyes and let out a sad sort of sound, making Din’s heart clench and causing him to turn back to the Jedi. “He doesn’t want to go with you.”

The Jedi shook his head. “He wants your permission.” As if sensing the conflicting feelings that were swirling within him, he continued. “He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

Several moments passed and Din nodded, walking over to where Grogu sat and picking him up before moving to stand beside (Y/N). “Hey, go on. This is who you belong with…he’s one of your kind.”

“We’ll see you again, Grogu,” The tears in the captain’s eyes made the lump in Din’s throat tighten, and he watched through blurry eyes while she gave the child a smile and caressed his ear. “We promise.”

Grogu cooed and to his surprise, he reached forward and touched the side of his helmet; he’s never seen my face, Din thought as he blinked away fresh tears, all this time he’s trusted me without ever seeing my face. His gloved hand shook while he reached up and took hold of the edge of his helmet, pulling it up and off his head. (Y/N) took the helmet from him but Din didn’t take his eyes off of Grogu. He watched as the child pressed his tiny hand to his cheek, the gentle feeling making Din close his eyes and purse his lips to keep them from trembling. When he opened his eyes, he gave Grogu a gentle smile. “All right, pal. It’s time to go.” Remembering what Ahsoka Tano had told them back on Corvus, he added, “Don’t be afraid.”

“Choose courage over fear, little guy, and you can change the stars,” (Y/N) spoke, and Din instantly recognized the dying words of her mother; she leaned over and pressed a kiss to Grogu’s wrinkled forehead. “Okay?”

Din knelt and set Grogu down on the ground, straightening up and giving the Jedi a nod while (Y/N) wrapped her arm around his waist. Another sad coo made them both look down to see the child clinging to their boots and staring up at them with his eyes filled with affection, and Din slung his arm around the captain’s shoulders to keep himself from reaching for him again. With a flurry of beeps and whistles, a blue and white astromech droid wheeled out from behind the Jedi and the R2 unit’s sudden appearance made Grogu turn around in curiosity; he waddled over to the droid and as it continued beeping, the child let out a happy coo that made (Y/N) giggle and Din smile.

The Jedi was smiling when he glanced up from the sweet interaction, meeting Din’s gaze and giving him a reassuring nod before stooping down and picking the child up. “May the Force be with you.”

Din remained silent and even (Y/N) didn’t have the strength to reply, both of them holding each other close while the Jedi turned and walked down the hallway. He and the droid entered the elevator and when Grogu turned to look back at them, Din offered him another small smile, praying to anything and everything that the child understood just how much he was loved; it was difficult to tell, but he was fairly certain that Grogu was smiling back as the elevator door finally closed.

“We did it,” Din looked down at (Y/N), taking in her tear-filled eyes and her poor attempt at masking her grief behind a smile. “We finished our quest. He’s…he’s where he belongs now.”

“I know, alor’ad…” Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss and squeezed his eyes closed, feeling his tears beginning to stream down his face as he choked out, “I know.”

Chapter Text

A Naakla Oyay (Seamsters!AU)

“Are you finally gonna tell me what’s going on, Din?” (Y/N) was smiling bemusedly as she allowed the Mandalorian to guide her down the street. “You’ve been acting weird all week and it’s been driving me crazy ‘cause I can’t figure out why; Life Day isn’t for a few months and my birthday was a couple of weeks ago, so you’d better spill before I find a not-so-pleasant way to make you.”

Din rolled his eyes in playful exasperation as his lips curled into a grin. “Are all ex-smugglers as dramatic as you, alor’ad?”

“Oh, I’m dramatic? Remind me again which one of us got ourselves eaten alive by a kriffing krayt dragon?” She retorted, feeling a surge of triumph when his cheeks blushed pink and he shrugged noncommittally. “C’mon, cyare, I spent the entire day working on Karga’s order and all I could think of was eating dinner and watching the HoloNet with you; I’m grateful for the work, of course, but how many magistrate robes does one person need?”

“Considering that he’s the magistrate of quite a large trade anchor in this sector, I’d say that he’s putting his best foot forward; it’s impossible for people to look anything less than perfect when they’re wearing your clothing, after all.” (Y/N) felt her face begin to warm at her partner’s praise; she still wasn’t quite used to having people compliment her handiwork but with each new customer, she was becoming more and more confident in her fledgling seamstress business. Bringing their joined hands up, Din pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles as his brown eyes sparkled in excitement. “And I promise that the surprise’ll be worth all this.”

The two of them walked through the streets of the city, passing by merchant stalls and people going about their late afternoon shopping. Din’s fingers tightened around her hand when they passed by the small playground and she squeezed his back, knowing that the laughing children at play reminded him of Grogu. The little guy would’ve loved playing with them, she thought with a melancholy smile, though she knew that he was where he belonged; he was learning the way of the Jedi and with proper training, he would finally be safe from the remnants of the Empire. Before they reached the corner of the street, Din stopped and her brow furrowed in confusion when he pulled a blindfold out of the pouch at his waist. “So, you’re taking me to a mysterious location…and now you want me to wear a blindfold.”

“Yeah, it’s a part of the surprise.” (Y/N) arched a skeptical brow and he sighed deeply. “Please, alor’ad?”

His beautiful eyes pleaded with her and after a brief stare-off, she groaned in defeat. “I hate when you do that, it makes me feel like agreeing to anything.”

“Mmm,” Din hummed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to his chest as his smirk widened. “Anything?”

Before he could kiss her, though, she brought her hand up and covered his eager lips with her fingers. “Almost anything.” She giggled as he rolled his eyes in exasperation, removing her hand and planting a brief kiss onto his lips. “Aw, do all bounty hunters pout when they don’t get their way? Maker, no wonder most of them wear helmets to hide their faces.”

The Mandalorian’s lips curved into a reluctant smile at her teasing. “Mir’sheb.”

“C’mon, you know you love me!”

“’Course I do. Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner mir’sheb alor’ad.” Din took a moment to rest his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss before pulling back and holding up the blindfold. “Now, do you wanna do the honors or should I?”

With a sigh of feigned annoyance, (Y/N) allowed Din to fasten the blindfold around her eyes and guide her forward; her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her, as she had absolutely no clue what sort of surprise was in store for her. Maybe he finally managed to repair that speeder he bartered off of the Jawas a while back, she thought with an inward smile, recalling how determined he was to hone his mechanic skills and repair the land speeder with his own two hands. A short time later, Din’s hands moved from her shoulders to her waist, guiding her to stop and turn towards her right-hand side; she felt his fingers beginning to loosen the blindfold’s bow and his strong voice faltered a little as he spoke, “O-okay, you can look in three…two…one…”

The blindfold fell away from her eyes, revealing that the two of them stood in front of a mid-sized and clearly abandoned building. Just as she was beginning to frown in confusion, her gaze landed on the sign hanging above the doorway and written in Aurebesh was a shockingly-familiar name…

The Smuggling Seamstress
Owned and Operated by (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Naboo

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock and as she continued to stare at the building, Din moved to stand beside her. “I hunted down a couple of New Republic bounties last month, Imperial officers who helped lead attacks against hidden Rebel bases. The reward for their capture was enough to finally finish payments on this building and to purchase some equipment from Theed; it won’t be here for a week or two, of course, but it’ll come in on the next freighter from the Mid-Rim.”

“You…” She finally turned to the Mandalorian in utter disbelief. “You bought me a shop.” Din swallowed nervously but nodded, and she couldn’t suppress her shuddering exhale or tearful smile. “You bought me a shop, Din.”

“Do you…? Do you like it?”

With a half-sob, she launched herself at her surprised partner and flung her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug, burying her face in his neck while he held her close. “I love it! I don’t know what to say, it’s…it’s beautiful!” She pulled away only to immediately capture his lips in a passionate kiss; Din’s surprise was short-lived and as he began to kiss her back, she ran her fingers through his soft brown curls. Once it became too difficult to breathe, she pulled back and stammered, “I-I’ll pay you back for everything, cyare, just as soon as I can.”

Din shook his head. “It’s all a gift, alor’ad. You remember that day you told me about your dream to run your own shop? Well, that was the day I vowed to do everything I could to help you live that dream. It took me a little longer than I originally anticipated, but I finally fulfilled my vow.”

“You’re…” (Y/N) began, her tears beginning to fall as she struggled to find the words to properly convey her sudden emotions. “You’re too good to me, Din. I don’t deserve this-”

“You’re wrong.” One of his hands remained on the curve of her waist while the other moved to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her stray tears as his eyes bored into hers. “Nothing’s too good for you, (Y/N), you hear me? You deserve every happiness this universe has to offer and then some.”

He held her close and pressed light kisses along her forehead and cheeks as her eyes drifted closed; as they stood there in front of the abandoned building, she silently thanked the Maker for putting Din Djarin in her path all those months ago. An idea suddenly sprang to mind, her eyes opening as she pulled away far enough to see all of Din’s face. “Din Djarin, I’ll accept your very generous gift…” Her lips curved into a smile. “But only if you become my business partner. Owning my own shop and doing something I love is my dream, but my dream wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t there to share it with me. So…” Stepping back out of his arms, she held out her hand for him to shake. “Partners?”

Din’s eyes were filled with happiness as he nodded and shook her outstretched hand. “Akay te ka’ra kyr, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“Akay te ka’ra kyr, ner cyar’ika beroya.” Beaming, (Y/N) launched herself back into Din’s arms and their laughter mingled together as he spun her around in a circle; when her feet were finally back on the ground, she glanced between Din’s love-filled face and the building beside them. “Well, I guess we should take a look around our new shop, shouldn’t we?”

The Mandalorian flashed her a wolfish grin before suddenly lifting her up into his strong arms. “Among other things.”

“Mmm, I like the way you think, Din Djarin…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-One
The Return of the Mandalorian and the Captain

Out of all the planets and space stations they’d hunted their bounties on in recent months, Glavis was the one that (Y/N) despised the most. The artificial scenery was soulless and devoid of any color, almost reminding her of the surface levels of Corsucant she’d snuck into and helped evacuate during her time as a Rebellion smuggler, and the lack of natural sunlight frankly unnerved her. If Din wasn’t so hell-bent on finding his old Mandalorian covert after their forced exodus from Nevarro she would’ve pushed back when he suggested they pay the space station a visit, but while she didn’t fully agree with his plan to reunite with the religious zealots that indoctrinated children into following their rigid Way, she understood it was something important that the Mandalorian needed to do and she’d be right there by his side when he found them.

“That hunk of metal’s lucky that I love him so much,” (Y/N) grumbled under her breath as she crouched behind the roof’s ledge and peered into her blaster rifle’s scope at the front doors of Kaba Baiz’s meat packing plant. “I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

After several more minutes of watching and waiting, the familiar beskar-clad figure of the Mandalorian emerged from the building, a small blood-soaked sack clutched tightly in his fist. “All clear, you can come down now.”

“Copy, I’ll be right there.” She spoke into her comm, standing and slinging the blaster rifle’s strap over her shoulder before carefully climbing down the building’s exterior ladder to the ground below; as she hurried over to where he stood, the smile on her face fell when she realized that he was limping. “Oh, Maker…”

“Now I get why Force-wielders are the only ones who use lightsabers,” Din attempted to quip, but his modulated voice was laced with pain as they both looked down at his noticeable wound; the unarmored side of his left thigh was sporting a large grazing burn and he was barely able to put his weight on it. “Trust me, alor’ad, it looks a whole lot worse than it feels.”

“Dammit, Din, I knew I should’ve gone in there with you! We both agreed that the Darksaber was too dangerous to use even in an emergency and now look at what’s happened.” (Y/N) reached for his free hand and began maneuvering his arm around her shoulders for support. “C’mon, we need to get you to a medic-”

“I’m fine, okay? All I want to do is collect our bounty and locate the remnants of my covert.” She flinched at the shortness of his tone and started to pull away, but he heaved a sigh as his strong arm pulled her back to him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. You were only trying to help me and you’re right, I should’ve been more careful with the Darksaber.”

(Y/N) nodded, resting a hand against the side of his helmet. “You’re under a lot of stress, sweetheart, but you don’t have to carry it all alone. We’re partners in every sense of the word, Din Djarin, and I promise you that nothing in this galaxy will ever change that. Okay?”

Leaning forward, the Mandalorian rested his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss and sighed. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“And I love you too, my grumpy bounty hunter.” He chuckled and she pressed a quick kiss onto the beskar covering his cheek. “If you say that you’re fine then I believe you, but please let me know if it starts hurting more.”

Nodding, Din pulled back and held up the sack for her to see. “Let’s get this damn job over with and collect the bounty on this son of a mud-scuffer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They walked together through the streets of Glavis, with (Y/N) doing her best to hide her concern while Din’s limp grew more and more pronounced with each step he took. When they stepped into the elevator that would transport them to their wealthy client’s nightclub, he placed a gloved hand against the small of her back and his trademark comforting gesture was enough to temporarily ease her worry. Their fellow passenger was looking apprehensively at the bloody sack Din held, but hastily averted his gaze when he realized they’d caught him; bounty hunters sure do know how to drive people away, she thought with a small pang of sadness and Din’s hand flexed a little against her back.

When the elevator’s doors opened on the next level, they stepped out into the nightclub and (Y/N) was forced to raise her voice to be heard over the loud music. “When we were here earlier, I got the feeling that she doesn’t like me too much so I’ll just wait out here.” Her partner gave her a nod and limped off to their client’s private dining room while she stood at the railing and looked out at the bustling space station, the sadness within her suddenly flaring as she watched the ships fly overhead.

It wasn’t as though (Y/N) hated bounty hunting – if she were being completely honest, the thrill of the hunt was slightly addicting after a while – but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep on pretending that it was enough to distract her from the life she’d begun to yearn for. She missed piloting a ship and the excitement of flying it across the galaxy, something she hadn’t experienced since before their assault on Moff Gideon’s light cruiser. She and Din had relied on commercial ships and while they’d been saving all the credits they earned from hunting bounties, they were still a long way from having enough to purchase a ship of their own. If Glavis ends up being a bust then at least we’ll be free to visit Tatooine and see what sort of ship Peli’s scrounged up, she reasoned to herself, fond memories of the eccentric mechanic and their adventures on the desert planet bringing an amused smile to her face.

The familiar sound of Din’s heavy boots grew louder as he returned from seeing their client and he stopped beside her at the railing. “The closest access shaft is down Kolzoc Alley, near the heat vent towers.” He handed her a bag of credits, his breaths coming out in uneven gasps as she carefully tucked it into her satchel with the rest of their money. “We…We’re not too f-far away…”

Biting her lip to keep from remarking on his worsening condition, (Y/N) nodded and accompanied him into the empty elevator. Once the doors slid shut, he released a groan of pain and sagged against the handrail, his gloved fingers gingerly prodding at the edges of the burn; he didn’t bother stopping her as she wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him stand, draping his arm over her shoulders and holding onto his hand before they exited the elevator. While they slowly traveled down the dark alleyways of Glavis, (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in concentration as she hummed a traditional Naboo healing song under her breath, focusing on pouring a soothing energy into the melodic notes. The song didn’t miraculously cure Din’s injury, of course, but his labored breathing steadied a little and his fingers squeezed hers tight in a silent thanks for the distraction.

“There, through that door.” Standing before the ordinary-looking door nestled in the shadows of Kolzoc Alley, Din reached forward and pressed a button on the control panel; they exchanged a brief glance before stepping through the open doorway and onto a narrow metal scaffolding. The space station’s substrata creaked and groaned around them, the faint glow emanating from light strips reflecting off the crisscrossing framework and illuminating the long ladder that led to a platform down below. “I’ll go first.”

(Y/N) anxiously watched as the Mandalorian began to descend and she found herself kneeling on the scaffolding to monitor his progress. “It’s not a race, Din, you should really slow-” A gasp tore out of her throat when his boot slipped off a rung and her hands shot forward to latch around his vambrace, clutching the beskar tight as he steadied himself on the ladder and only letting go once she was sure he was all right. With her heart racing in her chest, she climbed down the ladder after him and when her boots finally touched the platform, she guided his arm back around her shoulders and gave his waist a gentle squeeze. “All good?”

Din lifted the bottom of his helmet just enough to press a kiss to her temple before lowering it again. “N-Never…better.”

They continued their way down the extended platform, the stars twinkling in the empty space surrounding them as Din started to lean more of his weight on her and grunts of pain escaped him with each step. When the end of the platform finally came into sight, she spotted a helmeted figure kneeling at its edge and judging by the way he tried moving faster, they were a fellow Mandalorian; the staircase leading down to where the Mandalorian knelt was intimidating, but she put on an encouraging smile for his sake and murmured. “We’ll take it one step at a time. C’mon, sweetheart, you’ve got this…” His pained groans grew louder as they struggled to descend the staircase and they made it to the last step when his leg finally gave out, pulling away from her and collapsing onto the ground in a heap. “Din!”

(Y/N) struggled to help him sit up as the Mandalorian at the edge of the platform finally spoke. “Tend to him.”

Another much-larger Mandalorian appeared from the shadows with a medkit clutched in their gloved hand, kneeling down on the other side of Din and closely examining his wound. “I didn’t know if I would ever see you again.” The Mandalorian looked up at (Y/N) and tilted his helmeted head to the side as he considered her. “Who’s this who has brought you back to us?”

“(Y/N), she’s m-my partn-” Din hissed in pain when his friend’s fingers prodded the flesh surrounding his wound; his hand found hers and squeezed it tight as the Mandalorian reached into the medkit for the bacta spray. “My partner. Thank you for saving me on Nevarro…” Another pained gasp escaped his clenched teeth and she wrapped her free hand around the unarmored part of his arm for comfort. “I-I’m sorry for your sacrifice.”

The Mandalorian nodded. “There are three of us now.” The bacta spray made contact with the wound, causing Din to involuntarily flinch away and (Y/N) to hastily hold him steady as the Mandalorian looked between them. “We’ll put you to work soon enough.”

(Y/N) looked down at her partner and while she tried to focus on distracting him from the pain, she couldn’t shake the feeling that his fellow Mandalorian was staring at her through the visor of his helmet; she rubbed her hand up and down his arm and even managed to muster up a small smile. “You’re doing great, sweetheart, you’ll be back to your usual sarcastic self in no time. Oh, and if you ever put me through this much worry again I’ll kick your beskar-clad ass. Got it?”

Din chuckled weakly and nuzzled his head against her neck. “You got it, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“What weapon caused such a wound?”

They both looked over at the Mandalorian kneeling in the distance and glancing over her shoulder at them. “This.” Din unclipped the Darksaber’s hilt from his belt and held it up for the others to see; (Y/N)’s brow furrowed when she noticed the way the Mandalorian froze and momentarily forgot about the wound he’d been bandaging as he stared at the weapon in Din’s hand, but the female Mandalorian spoke before she could remark on it.

“Paz Vizsla, bring it to me.” The Mandalorian carefully took the Darksaber and stood, holding it delicately in his gloved hands as he walked down the platform. The female Mandalorian set some sort of forging tool onto the grating beside her and realization finally dawned on (Y/N) at the sight; Din often spoke highly of his covert’s Armorer and how she’d managed to survive Moff Gideon’s massacre on Nevarro, but it bothered him that she never mentioned where she’d go to establish a new covert. At least we’ve finally found her, she thought as she helped Din sit up straight, and now he can finally move on from the guilt of abandoning the covert. The Armorer rose from the ground and accepted the Darksaber from Paz, turning it over in her grasp as she continued. “All this talk of the Empire, and they lasted less than thirty years. Mandalorians have existed ten thousand.” She ignited the weapon and examined its glowing blade in interest. “What do you know of this blade?”

Din nodded. “We’re told it is the Darksaber.”

“Indeed. Do either of you understand its significance?”

(Y/N) exchanged a brief glance with her partner before answering, “Whoever wields it can lead all of Mandalore.”

“If it is won by Creed in battle. It is said, one warrior will defeat twenty, and the multitudes will fall before it. If, however, it is not won in combat and falls into the hands of the undeserving, it will be a curse unto the nation.” She sheathed the blade and started down the platform towards them. “Mandalore will be laid to waste and its people scattered to the four winds.”

The Armorer’s words reminded (Y/N) of Bo-Katan Kryze, the Mandalorian who’d helped them infiltrate Moff Gideon’s light cruiser and apprehend the Imperial commander. She was hell-bent on re-claiming the Darksaber for herself, insisting that Moff Gideon had taken it from her, and was more than displeased when Din had inadvertently become its rightful owner. (Y/N) had been wary of the Mandalorian and her intentions since the day they met on Trask, but that didn’t mean she automatically believed the Armorer’s story about the destruction of Mandalore. As if sensing her thoughts, Din nudged her shoulder and she helped him stumble to his feet as he gestured to the Darksaber. “The hilt is of a quality of beskar I have never seen before.”

“It was forged over a thousand years ago by the Mandalore Tarre Vizsla.” (Y/N) bit her lip to keep her mouth from falling open at the Armorer’s reply, silently realizing why Paz had stared so intently at the sheathed weapon before. “He was both Mandalorian and Jedi.”

An unbalanced Din leaned against (Y/N) for support and nodded. “We’ve met Jedi.”

“Then you have completed your quest.”

The gloved hand resting on her hip twitched and it was with a curt voice that her partner shortly answered, “I have.” Thoughts of Grogu filled (Y/N)’s mind and her heart clenched in grief; they avoided talking about the little guy but it didn’t make the pain of being separated from him any easier to handle; the knowledge that he was learning how to protect himself and better wield the Force was the only thing that gave her comfort, but even that was fleeting. “We have, actually. I never would’ve succeeded without (Y/N)’s help.”

The Armorer looked between the pair of them before focusing back on Din. “Cuyir ibic gar riduur?”

“Vi morut’t johayc cuun riduurok, a vi kelir nusujii.” Din hastily spoke in Mando’a and although she couldn’t quite understand their exchange, she knew that whatever the Armorer had said flustered him. “We’re a clan of two now.”

After a long pause, the Armorer finally nodded. “Then you may both join our covert as we rebuild.”

Din’s hand wrapped around (Y/N)’s as he replied, “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.” Paz gruffly added.

“This is the Way.”

Surrounded by the three Mandalorians, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the feel of foreboding that had begun to blossom in the pit of her stomach; despite Din finally reuniting with the remnants of his clan and having an opportunity to learn the ways of the Darksaber from his people, she felt as though they were in more danger in the substrata of Glavis then anywhere else in the galaxy. Never a moment of peace for a Mandalorian bounty hunter and a Rebellion smuggler, she wearily thought to herself, squeezing Din’s gloved hand and hoping that her intuition would be proven wrong.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Two
The Covert

“So, how did you become acquainted with a pilot?”

Din glanced up from the chain he was fastening around the forge and looked up at Paz, the muscle in his jaw clenching when he noticed his fellow Mandalorian watching (Y/N) as she worked to rewire some old equipment alongside the Armorer. “I helped her defeat the remnants of a crime syndicate and in turn, she helped me return Gro-the foundling to his own kind.”

“Why haven’t you exchanged vows yet?” Paz asked with an accusatory edge to his voice, turning back to face him and pointing to the signet fastened to his pauldron. “Clan Mudhorn cannot thrive with only two members, but a riduurok will ensure its continuation.”

“We’ve been busy,” Din replied, resuming his task with slightly more force than necessary and carefully watching Paz out of the corner of his eye while he considered their exchange.

What he told Paz was technically true, but the fact of the matter was that he hadn’t even asked (Y/N) to marry him; the subject of marriage was one that simply never came up between them. He knew, of course, that the captain loved him and wanted to continue traveling as his partner, but he had no idea if marriage appealed to her or not. If he were being honest with himself, one of the real reasons he hadn’t brought it up was because he was afraid of ruining what they already had. He told himself that he’d bring it up once their lives calmed down a little, but it was starting to look as though a calm life just wasn’t in the cards for them just yet. I’ll ask her the moment the time feels right, he promised himself as he glanced over at (Y/N), no matter where we are or what we’re doing.

The two Mandalorians moved the forge to the center of the workshop, Paz pushing the heavy machinery while Din tugged it into place using the sturdy chain, the sound of the successful installation echoing throughout the room. While Din began unfastening the chain, Paz started connecting the tubing to the forge and broke the silence with another pointed question. “Where did you come upon the Darksaber?”

Although his shoulders were tensed, Din continued hauling equipment as he gave his fellow Mandalorian a carefully worded reply. “I defeated Moff Gideon.”

Paz considered his words for a moment. “Did you kill him?”

“No. But he was sent off to the New Republic for interrogation and he’ll face justice for his crimes.”

The larger Mandalorian scoffed and began winding up the loose chain. “Death would’ve been justice for his atrocities.”

“This is true.” They both turned to see the Armorer and (Y/N) enter the workshop. “The blood of millions of our kind is on his hands.”

“I’m a veteran of the Rebel Alliance and while the atrocities Moff Gideon committed still affect me to this day, I know that killing him in combat isn’t justice.” The captain’s frown was deep and her expression clouded with frustration as she stared unflinchingly at the two Mandalorians before her. “Once he’s put on trial and any useful Imperial intel is taken from him, he’ll be executed for his crimes by the New Republic Tribunal.”

While the Armorer and Paz stood in stunned silence, Din admired his partner’s wisdom and fearlessness; not many people would readily contradict a Mandalorian while in their presence, but (Y/N) was hardly unfazed under their intimidating stares. A tense moment passed before the Armorer turned away and began pressing buttons on the nearest control panel. “We shall see.” At the flip of a switch, the forge ignited and she walked over to a nearby cabinet as she continued. “The songs of eons past foretold of the Mythosaur rising up to herald a new age of Mandalore…” She pressed a button and the doors slid open to reveal her familiar forging tools. “Sadly, it only exists in legends. Where did you come upon the beskar spear?”

Reaching over his shoulder, Din unsheathed the spear he’d strapped onto his jetpack and held it in his gloved hands, examining the shining metal while he moved to stand beside (Y/N) at the forge. “It was a gift of a Jedi. It can block a lightsaber; I used it to defeat Moff Gideon.”

“It can also pierce beskar armor.” The Armorer pointed out. “It’s mere existence puts Mandalorians at risk. Mandalorian steel is meant for armor, not weapons.”

Din recalled a recent conversation he’d shared with (Y/N), where the captain had voiced her concerns about the risks involved with wielding the beskar spear; if an opponent managed to disarm him, they’d have no problem using the spear against him and injuring or possibly killing him. He looked over at his partner and nodded before holding the weapon out towards the Armorer. “Then forge it into armor.”

The Mandalorian crossed the workshop and accepted the spear. “The Darksaber is a more noble weapon for you to wield.”

Just as long as I can learn how to wield it without slicing one of my own limbs off, Din thought with an exasperated eye-roll, moving to sit beside (Y/N) on a storage container and watch the Armorer place the tip of the spear into the white-hot fire. (Y/N) intertwined her fingers with his and rested their joined hands on her lap, his thumb rubbing soothing circles across her knuckles as she finally spoke up. “Have you ever heard of Bo-Katan Kryze?”

“Bo-Katan is a cautionary tale.” They watched as the Armorer poured a solution into a deep basin of water and at her statement, Din found himself leaning forward in interest; since meeting the unconventional Mandalorian back on Trask, they’d both been eager to learn more about her and the real reason why she was so hell-bent on defeating Moff Gideon. “She once laid claim to rule Mandalore based purely on blood and the sword you now possess.” She walked back to the forge and rotated the spear as its metal began to weaken. “But it was gifted to her and not won by Creed. Bo-Katan Kryze was born of a mighty house, but they lost sight of the Way. Her rule ended in tragedy; they lost their Way, and we lost our world. Had our sect not been cloistered on the moon of Concordia, we would have not survived the Great Purge.”

“When we first met, she mentioned having fought in the Purge,” (Y/N) recalled, and her eyes flicked between Din and the Armorer as she hesitantly continued. “But I still don’t exactly know what happened to Mandalore.”

“Those born of Mandalore strayed away from the path. Eventually, Imperial interlopers destroyed all that we knew and loved in the Night of a Thousand Tears. Only those that walked the Way escaped the curse prophesied in the Creed. Though our numbers were scattered to the winds, our adherence to the Way has preserved our legacy for the generations until we may someday return to our home world.” The captain nodded once the Armorer’s story ended but judging by the familiar line that formed between her brows, her mind was racing with thoughts; removing the spear from the fire, the Mandalorian finally looked up at Din. “What shall I forge?”

Din bit his lip as he thought over her question; he’d ask that the Armorer forge something that could provide (Y/N) with some added protection, but he knew that the captain would only consider it a waste of beskar and refuse to accept the armor. His thoughts then turned to another member of their small clan and while he still felt the familiar sadness that came along with remembering Grogu, his lips curved into the smallest of smiles. “Something for a foundling.”

“This is the Way.”

“…For a specific foundling.” The captain’s hand squeezed his and her eyes sparkled as she flashed him a smile of approval; bolstered by her reaction, he turned back to the Armorer and added, “Grogu.”

The Mandalorian tilted her helmeted head to the side as she considered his words. “He’s no longer in your care. He is with his own kind now.”

“We were hoping to see him soon, actually…” (Y/N) spoke up with a slightly defensive tone to her voice. “To make sure he’s safe and that his training’s going well.”

“In order to master the ways of the Force, Jedi must forgo all attachment.”

Din’s brow furrowed at her statement. “That is the opposite of our Creed. Loyalty and solidarity are the Way.”

For a long moment, the Mandalorian remained silent until finally giving them a short nod. “What shall I forge for the foundling Grogu?”

Looking over at (Y/N), Din was suddenly struck by an idea that made his smile widen. “How would the most talented seamstress to come out of Naboo like to design some Mandalorian armor?”

The captain’s eyes lit up in a way he hadn’t seen since before Grogu was abducted on Tython. “It would be my pleasure.”

While the Armorer worked on melting down the beskar spear, Din and (Y/N) gathered around their worn-out holopad and started designing the armor that would someday belong to Grogu, with his partner sketching out various designs while he interjected with his own ideas. Early on in their partnership, (Y/N) had shared with him her dream of someday owning and operating her very own seamstress shop; after seeing some of her stunning designs and watching her construct them with nothing more than a small sewing kit, there was no doubt in his mind that she could become a successful seamstress on any affluent planet in the Inner Rim. Although she’d chosen to put her dream on hold for the time being, that didn’t stop her from filling their holopad with countless sketches and concepts of her various clothing designs and while her stencil scribbled across the screen, Din found himself distracted by how beautiful she looked as she worked.

“Din, I can’t see your eyes but I can feel you staring at me.” (Y/N) quietly admonished, a twinkle of humor apparent in her (Y/E/C) eyes when she looked up into his visor. “There isn’t anything on my face, is there?”

“Only that pretty smile of yours, alor’ad.” Din’s own grin widened as the flustered captain tried and failed to stop herself from smiling at his compliment. “Yep, there it is, the only smile that’s brighter than the twin suns of Tatooine.”

Playfully bumping his shoulder with her own, (Y/N) chuckled and scooted closer to him. “You’re a terrible flirt, sweetheart,” She leaned over and pressed a kiss onto the side of his helmet. “But that’s just one of the many, many things I love about you.”

Din hummed thoughtfully. “Is that right? Care to tell me another one of those many, many things?”

“Fine, but only if you promise not to tease me about it.” She waited until he nodded in agreement to continue, an endearing mixture of apprehension and delight written across her face. “Your voice.”

Beneath his helmet, Din arched a curious brow. “My voice?”

“Mm-hmm, it was one of the first things I noticed about you when we met; since I couldn’t see your face, I studied your voice so I could decipher what you were thinking and feeling under all the beskar.” The captain’s smile widened as her fingertips began tracing along the mudhorn signet on his pauldron. “And somewhere in all that studying, I found myself falling in love with the owner of that beautiful voice. Remember the day we had a picnic in that meadow? I heard your unobstructed voice for the very first time and if I hadn’t already been sitting, I would’ve gone weak at the knees when you asked me to kiss you.”

“T-That’s, um, that’s very…dank farrik, I’ve never wanted to kiss you more than right now.” He groaned in frustration, his hands tightening on his knees as he forced himself to avoid thinking of the more intimate moments they’d stared in the darkness of the Razor Crest. “I swear, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, the moment you and I can finally be alone again…”

(Y/N) grinned at his insinuation. “I look forward to it.” Across the workshop, Paz set the storage container he’d been carrying down onto the ground with more force than necessary and the captain sighed. “Well, I’d better go give the Armorer our design before that sweet-talking of yours gets us into trouble.”

With a subtle wink, she grabbed the holopad and walked over to the forge where the Armorer worked and Din sat straight in his seat, his eyes narrowing and jaw clenching as he watched Paz continue to work. He’d never been particularly close to his brother-in-arms and while a part of him had hoped their team-up on Nevarro would change that, the aggressive envy radiating off the larger Mandalorian since the moment they arrived was enough to give him pause. Just ignore him as you once did on Nevarro, he sternly told himself, though he made a show of resting his hand on the Darksaber’s hilt when Paz looked his way.

Without warning, the Armorer began hammering down the heated Mandalorian steel and the reverberating impact of the strikes made Din flinch and involuntarily recall one of the worst days of his life…

Explosions filled the air and people screamed, running as fast as they could from the attacking droids…Din buried his face in the crook of his father’s neck, feeling his mother’s hand resting on his back as they hurried through the smoke-filled streets…dying screams of terror were drown out by fiery bombs and blaster fire…his mother and father hugged him one last time before hiding him away in the cellar…

“…Din? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” (Y/N)’s concerned voice slowly replaced the all-consuming screams and deafening explosions and it was then that he registered his own erratic breathing. “Take a deep breath in and then slowly let it out for me, feel your body begin to relax little by little.” He followed her instructions, vaguely aware of her hand slipping into his and gently squeezing as his pounding heartbeat slowed. “That’s it, you’re doing great. I’m right here, Din, I’m not going anywhere.” The tension in his shoulders lessened and his vision finally cleared, revealing the Armorer’s workshop and (Y/N)’s anxious face directly in front of him. “Feel any better?”

“A-A little,” Din swallowed the lump in his throat and took another deep breath. “I haven’t experienced one of those since the dark troopers on Moff Gideon’s cruiser, it caught me by surprise.”

Resuming her seat beside him, the captain held his hand securely between her own and softly asked, “Did you wanna take a walk and get a little fresh air?”

“No, I must stay here and oversee the forging of my foundling’s armor.” (Y/N) frowned, a look of apprehension crossing her face as her eyes flicked between the illuminated forge and his visor. Din heaved a sigh before lightly resting his free hand on the small of her back in comfort. “This is the Way.”

After a long moment, (Y/N) finally nodded and they turned their attention back to the forging of Grogu’s armor; Din’s hand tightened in hers with each hammer strike and for the first time since embarking on his quest to locate the Mandalorian covert remnants, a small voice in the back of his mind questioned if this truly was his Way.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Three
The Duel

(Y/N)’s knowledge of Mandalorian culture and their various traditions hadn’t always been the most thorough; she knew the basics, of course, that it was actually a religion and not a race of people and that training warriors played a significant part in their Creed, but she didn’t start to truly understand Mandalorians until she met Din. Whenever they were working on repairs onboard the Razor Crest or traveling through hyperspace with nothing to do for hours on end, her partner would tell her stories about growing up under the care of the Mandalorians; although he was undoubtedly grateful to the covert for taking him in and proud of the Creed he’d dedicated his life to, (Y/N) couldn’t help but take note of the conflicted emotions that filled his tone whenever he spoke of his upbringing, even more so after meeting Bo-Katan and her clan of Mandalorian warriors and seeing their more relaxed traditions with his own eyes.

Maybe he’s beginning to wonder if he still believes in everything his covert taught him, (Y/N) silently wondered, momentarily forgetting the control panel she was rewiring as she watched Din and the Armorer spar on the nearby walkway, her worried frown deepening each time her forging tools struck the Darksaber. With each blocked strike, the blade seemed to grow heavier in his hands and while the Armorer continued counting off in Mando’a, they switched roles and she easily sidestepped Din’s sluggish attacks.

“Solus. T’ad. Ehn. Cuir…” Swinging the Darksaber with renewed force, Din toppled right off the walkway when the Armorer dodged the strike. “You are fighting against the blade.”

(Y/N) sighed in relief as her partner ignited his jetpack and landed back on the walkway, the weight of the Darksaber instantly dragging him to his knees. “It gets heavier with each move.” His voice was filled with strain and even at a distance, she could see just how tightly he gripped the weapon’s hilt in his gloved hands; fully turning away from her work, (Y/N) sat cross-legged on the ground and anxiously fiddled with her boot laces while she watched the Armorer approach him.

“That is because you are fighting against the blade; you should be fighting against your opponent. Stand up.” Grunting in exertion, Din staggered to his feet and the Darksaber began to cut into the floor of the metal walkway, sparks flying up and around his boots as he heaved the blade up into his first position. “Solus.” He swung and the Armorer leaned back to avoid it. “T’ad.” She parried the second swing with ease. “Ehn.” With a burst of renewed energy, Din raised the blade over his head and brought it down, but the Armorer was faster; her beskar tool met the blade and swiped it away, then hit the top of his helmet with a resounding clang and lifted his chin upwards with her second tool. They stared down one another for a beat before pushing away from one another and launching into another attack, with Din barely holding back the Armorer’s weapon as it bared down hard against the Darksaber. “There. Feel it?” She slammed the second tool onto the blade and Din’s hand shot up to brace it against his vambrace as he was forced to his knee. “You are too weak to fight against the Darksaber. It will win if you fight against it.” The Armorer shoved the blade down and Din’s forearm fell against the floor of the walkway, the blade sheathing itself into its hilt as (Y/N) watched her partner with growing concern. “You cannot control it with your strength.”

Din clambered to his feet and struggled to catch his breath before stubbornly resuming an attack position. “I want to try again.”

“Persistence without insight will lead to the same outcome; your body is strong, but your mind is distracted.”

For the first time since the training session began, Din glanced over his shoulder at (Y/N) just as she felt a surge of guilt; was it possible that she was inadvertently contributing to the Mandalorian’s struggle of mastering the Darksaber? Not just me but the little guy as well, she thought with an inward sigh, he misses him more than he’d like to admit. As if in tuned to her thoughts, Din gave her a barely-discernible head-shake and turned back towards the Armorer. “I am focused.”

“The blade says otherwise.”

On the opposite end of the walkway, Paz Vizsla stepped into view and judging by the stiffness of his posture, he wasn’t there for moral support. “Maybe the Darksaber belongs in someone else’s hands.”

(Y/N) slowly got to her feet as the two Mandalorians turned to look at him. “Maybe,” Din answered, his voice clear and his tone even while he continued to stare down the larger man standing across from him; he seemingly picked up on the envy radiating off of Paz from the moment he revealed the Darksaber to the covert just the same as she had and before she realized it, she cautiously started forward with her hand resting on the blaster holstered at her hip.

“It was forged by my ancestor, founder of House Vizsla.”

“And now it belongs to me.”

“Because you won it in combat.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Din curtly replied, “That’s right.”

Paz’s gloved hands curled into tight fists. “And now I will win it from you.”

As the larger Mandalorian approached, the Armorer turned to Din beside her. “Do you agree to this duel, Din Djarin?”

“I do.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in disbelief and with the two Mandalorians watching her, she lurched forward to grab her partner’s arm and tugged him around to face her. “You don’t have to do this, Din. You know as well as I do that he doesn’t have a real claim to the Darksaber.”

With his visor still fixed on Paz, the Mandalorian brought his hand up to rest atop hers. “He issued a challenge and my Creed demands I accept it. This is the Way.”

“Is it really? Because it seems to me like he’s trying to use his bloodline to lay claim to that kriffing thing just like Bo-Katan did, except he’s somehow allowed to and she’s been vilified for it.” She withdrew a hand from his grasp and rested it against the side of his helmet, coaxing him into looking at her while she continued. “You have nothing to prove to anyone, least of all him.”

“Rejorhaa’ir gar dala at nutennir kaysh uram ra Ni’ll vaabir bic par kaysh.” Paz spat out, his Mando’a causing Din to tense up in anger next to her. “An aruetiise has no business interfering in our affairs.”

With gentle yet firm fingers, Din pried her hands off of his arm and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “Go, alor’ad. Everything will be fine.”

(Y/N) reluctantly did as he said, following the Armorer off the walkway and standing beside her as the two Mandalorians slowly and deliberately set their jetpacks down on the floor; her arms were crossed tight over her chest and she bit her bottom lip, watching her partner ignite the Darksaber and Paz draw a vibro-blade and vambrace shield with a growing sense of dread and holding her breath as they attacked. Din was typically a quick fighter, but the growing weight of the blade slowed him down and made him an easier target for Paz’s powerful strikes; he was eventually able to cut the vibro-blade in half and slam the hilt of the blade into his helmet but Paz was unaffected, grappling for the Darksaber as Din attempted to fight him off. Paz caught the glowing blade against his vambrace shield and swiped it aside before slamming his helmeted head against Din’s and throwing him off the walkway.

“No!” (Y/N) cried as she hurried out onto the walkway for a closer look, her heart hammering in her chest when she saw him land hard on a lower platform.

Paz jumped down after Din, slamming him into a metal pillar and picking up the Darksaber; he ignited the blade and struggled to raise it, growling out, “Fate has brought this blade back to my clan, and now fate will end yours!”

A gasp was torn from (Y/N)’s throat as Din quickly ducked to avoid the blade, rolling away and drawing his own vibro-blade to stab the larger Mandalorian in the leg. Her hand reached down to draw her blaster but a beskar forging tool knocked her hand aside; she looked up to see the Armorer standing nearby, her tools held at the ready. “Can’t we do something to stop this?!”

“We cannot interfere in ritual combat. This is the Way.”

Biting her lip to keep from arguing, she whirled back around to see Paz slam Din’s head into the pillar and swing the blade at him; with lightning-quick reflexes, her partner dodged the attack and violently slashed Paz’s unarmored legs, bringing the larger Mandalorian down onto his knees and holding the vibro-blade tight against his neck.

“It is done.” The Armorer’s voice cut through the air and mingled with the heavy breathing of both Mandalorians. Din remained motionless but looked up at (Y/N), who tried her hardest to hide her jumbled emotions from him; she was angry that he’d risked his life for a meaningless duel, worried that he’d sustained serious injuries and a little frightened of the violence he’d displayed. “Paz Vizsla, have you ever removed your helmet?”

“No.”

“Has it ever been removed by others?”

“Never.”

The Armorer nodded. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

“Din Djarin,” She looked over at Din and (Y/N) anxiously bit her lip, knowing deep-down that he wouldn’t be able to lie when she asked her questions. “Have you ever removed your helmet?” No answer. “Have you ever removed your helmet?” Again, Din didn’t answer and his visor remained trained on (Y/N), who had absolutely no idea how to navigate the situation they’d come to find themselves in. “By Creed, you must vow.”

After a long moment, Din shoved Paz aside and sheathed his vibro-blade. “I have.”

“…Then, you are a Mandalorian no more.”

“I beg you for your forgiveness. How can I atone?” His pleading words cut through (Y/N) like a knife, not only because the man she loved was losing a part of who he was but because she was partially to blame for breaking his Creed in the first place.

From the floor of the platform, Paz growled, “Leave, apostate.”

“According to Creed, one may only be redeemed in the living waters beneath the mines of Mandalore.”

The rising panic was perceptible in Din’s voice as he stammered out, “But the mines have all been destroyed.”

The Armorer simply nodded. “This is the Way.”

In that moment, there was nothing (Y/N) wanted to do more than to demand why they put more care and devotion into their beloved Creed than they did to those they forced to follow it. She wanted to yell at them about how idiotic it was to banish one of the most loyal Mandalorians she’d ever known simply because he wanted to save his foundling, the very same foundling they quested him to safely deliver back to his own kind, and she wanted to cry because if there was one thing Din Djarin valued in the galaxy more than her and Grogu, it was his Mandalorian Creed. But once her eyes took in his slumped shoulders and slightly uneven breaths as he bent down to grab the Darksaber and climbed onto the walkway to retrieve his jetpack, she knew that her righteous and anger-filled tirade wasn’t what he needed in that moment.

When Din reached her, she offered him her hand and once he finally took it, she laced her fingers through his and silently led him back through the substrata of Glavis, never once letting go of his trembling hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since neither (Y/N) nor Din wished to stay on the space station any longer, they briefly discussed their options before deciding to pay Peli Motto a visit on Tatooine and see if they couldn’t find themselves a ship of their own. The starport was bustling with activity when they arrived and while they began to board their commercial transport, an alarm blared out and a security droid informed them that weapons weren’t allowed on board; no matter how long they’d been forced to travel via commercial transports, the pair always seemed to forget to secure their many weapons at the gate and while their mistake always resulted in joking and laughter, (Y/N) remained silent as they placed their weapons into the case and locked it.

It wasn’t until they’d taken off and were traveling away from Glavis that (Y/N) plucked up enough courage to finally speak. “Do you regret taking off your helmet?”

Din, who’d been absentmindedly staring off into space, looked over at her and shook his head. “It’s how we were able to finally find Grogu and rescue him from Moff Gideon; I could never regret that.”

“But Grogu’s not the only person you’ve taken your helmet off for,” She reminded him with a saddened smile. “You also did it for me, back on that Lambda shuttle as we flew to rescue him. I wasn’t in any danger, so there really…there wasn’t a reason to do it that time.”

Her partner was silent for a moment as he considered her words. “I thought I was going to die on that light cruiser, alor’ad. I understood that the odds were stacked against us and vowed to do whatever it took to save Grogu, even if it meant…” He trailed off while (Y/N) looked down at her lap. “I decided that if things went south, I wanted the last thing I saw with my own eyes to be you.” His gloved hand caressed her cheek and urged her to look up at him. “Even though it worked out well for us, fulfilling that final wish is something I could never regret.”

“Then don’t listen to what they said back there.” With her gaze fixed on his visor, she lifted her hand and rested it flat against his beskar chestplate, directly over his heart. “Loyalty and solidarity are what make up a Mandalorian, and you possess more of those two traits than anyone else I know. You live by your own Creed, sweetheart, because your heart knows what’s right and what’s wrong; if removing your helmet for your loved ones is what feels right to you, then it is. You’re a Mandalorian, Din Djarin, and nothing anyone can say or do will ever change that.”

Din exhaled and leaned forward to briefly press his helmet against her forehead. “Thank you, (Y/N).” He pulled back and tilted his head to the side as his gloved finger brushed against her lip. “Your lip’s bleeding a little.” He sighed, knowing that she often bit her lip whenever she felt anxious or stressed. “I’m sorry for worrying you, alor’ad; I only wanted to prove that I was worthy to wield the Darksaber, but by accepting the duel I ignored your feelings.”

“I forgive you.” She smiled and scooted closer to the Mandalorian as he wrapped an arm around her. “My Mando’a isn’t great, so could you tell me what Paz said to make you so angry?”

“Well, it was something along the lines of ‘Tell your woman to shut her mouth before I shut it for her.’ Then he called you an outsider, but used a very negative version of the word.”

(Y/N)’s mouth fell open in outrage. “Paz Viszla better pray to the Maker that he never crosses my path again; maybe I should try learning how to use that Darksaber, that way I could teach him a lesson for talking so much shit about us.”

Her partner chuckled. “Ner kotir alor’ad. My brave captain, fiercer than a loth-cat. It’s a long flight to Tatooine, you should get some rest while you can.”

“But I’m not-” A yawn interrupted her words and she gave him a sheepish grin. “Well, maybe I’m a little tired.”

Shaking his head in mild exasperation, Din brought her hand up underneath the bottom of his helmet and pressed soft kisses against her fingertips. “Sleep, alor’ad. Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

“I love you too, Din,” She leaned her head down onto the cool beskar pauldron and intertwined her hand around his. “My strong and loyal Mandalorian.”

The transport gently rocked as they traveled through space and Din’s warm arm held her close to him, and she was soon lulled into a sleepy state. It’s been a long, long day, she thought to herself before her eyes fluttered closed and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Four
The Starfighter

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“For the last time, Din Djarin, I did not talk in my sleep.”

Beneath his helmet, Din smirked in amusement as the two of them continued sheathing their multitude of weapons. After traveling on commercial transports for so long, the process of collecting their weapons from security droids had become almost second nature, the both of them having gained the ability to fully arm themselves in under two minutes; they made the irksome process fun by racing one another or, if they were in a particularly playful mood, bantering. “Don’t be embarrassed, alor’ad, I thought it was pretty cute.”

(Y/N) holstered her blaster and shot him a withering look. “Keep talking, mir’sheb, and I’ll show you just how cute I can be.”

“I guess it’s true what they say about smugglers and their tempers.” Chuckling, Din clipped the Darksaber to his belt and handed his partner her vibro-blade. “Hey, if you can put up with my snoring then I can put up with your talking. Deal?”

She accepted the blade and tucked it into her boot as her lips curled into a teasing grin. “Okay. The snoring’s not what bothers me, though…that would be the drooling.” With a mischievous wink, she turned and began walking off towards Mos Eisley; Din watched her go with an affectionate smile on his face before grabbing the last of his weapons and hurrying after her, catching up in several long strides and digging his fingers into her sides, chuckling as she let out a shriek of laughter.

They made their way through the familiar streets of Mos Eisley to Bay Three-Five but were briefly distracted by the row of stalls they passed by, (Y/N) examining the various bundles of fabric and sets of embroidery thread in interest while Din stood by her side, admiring the focused expression on her face as she carefully studied each piece of material. She bartered with the vendor and pressed several credits into his hand before tucking the small bundle of black fabric into her satchel and allowing him to lead her down another street.

“So, alor’ad, what’s your next great work of art gonna be? Another dress?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Actually, I was gonna sew you a new undershirt. I noticed that yours is looking a little worse for wear and besides, this material’s better suited for extreme temperatures; theoretically, it should help you keep cool underneath all that beskar.”

“That’s…very kind of you. Thank you.” Din’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at his partner walking beside him and before he knew it, he heard himself blurt out, “(Y/N), there’s something I need to ask you.” They reached the entrance to Bay Three-Five and the captain turned to face him, a curious smile playing on her lips while she waited for him to speak. “W-We’ve known each other for a while now, and I…well, I-”

A bloodcurdling scream interrupted his nervous attempt at a proposal and they both quickly drew their blasters, hurrying into the hangar towards where all the screaming was emanating from. They were met with the sight of Peli Motto being dragged across the sand-covered floor by a sizable womp rat, its large teeth and sharpened claws latched tight onto her work boot; Din fired his blaster and the lifeless creature dropped onto the sand, and (Y/N)’s nose scrunched in disgust. “Urgh, womp rats. Possibly the nastiest creatures in the entire galaxy.”

“What an entrance!” Peli exclaimed, brushing the sand off her pants and looking over at a small droid cowering behind a tower of cargo containers. “BD, you good?” The droid beeped and started limping over. “Oh, good. Oh, boy!” The mechanic clambered to her feet and looked over at her crew of droids, beaming as she gestured to Din and (Y/N). “Hey, look everyone, it’s Mando and (Y/N)!”

“It’s nice to see you again, Peli,” (Y/N) smiled warmly and shook Peli’s hand. “Does your foot feel all right?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, hon, it’s not the first time something’s tried taking a chunk out of ol’ Peli and it certainly won’t be the last.” Din watched his partner attempt to mask her bewilderment at the mechanic’s reply with an inward chuckle. “Still don’t get why you travel around with this grouchy bounty hunter, being such a well-mannered gal and all.”

Beneath the helmet, he rolled his eyes and the captain patted the unarmored portion of his arm. “Well, he has his moments.”

“Not that I’ve ever noticed, but hey, to each their own,” Peli quipped and turned to Din. “What do we owe the pleasure? You two here to slay another dragon? Chasing down some elusive bounty? Sharing a romantic getaway?”

“We got your message.”

The mechanic’s brow furrowed. “Message? What message?”

“You said you found us a replacement for the Razor Crest.”

“…Yeah, that’s right. That’s what I said, that’s what I do. I’ve been working my butt off, yeah…” Peli held her hand out palm-up. “Did you bring the cash?”

Nodding, (Y/N) reached into her satchel and withdrew their bag of credits. “It’s right here.”

They watched in mild amusement as she accepted the bag and not-so-subtly weighed it in her hand. “Mind if I count it? Not that I don’t trust you two, I just wanna make sure you don’t give me too much. Hey droids, make yourselves useful!” She tossed the bag of credits onto a nearby fuel drum. “Count this up, and then fire up the grill before that thing gets gamey. Right this way, you two, wait ‘til you guys get your eyes on this baby…” They followed Peli further into the hangar, Din’s hand instinctively moving to rest on the small of (Y/N)’s back as she flashed him a smile. “So, where’s your unlikely companion?”

Din’s jaw clenched and (Y/N)’s smile faltered at the mention of Grogu, and she shortly replied, “We returned him to his own kind.”

“Why the hell would you do that?!” Peli demanded in disbelief. “I could’ve made good money off that thing, open a petting zoo…”

She chuckled to herself and as they walked through the hangar, Din frowned when the familiar shape of a Razor Crest was nowhere to be found. “Where’s the ship?”

“Right this way!” Peli led them into the hangar’s alcove and towards a tarp-covered ship, clearly not a Razor Crest judging by its smaller size, and (Y/N) glanced over at him in confusion while the mechanic began tugging the tarp off. “Ready to have your mind blown?”

The tarp fell away to reveal the remnants of a starfighter, almost half of its body entirely missing and what little remained looking as though it hadn’t flown in years if not decades. Din’s jaw dropped at the sight of the dilapidated ship and he struggled to keep his irritation in check while he addressed a beaming Peli. “Where’s the Razor Crest?”

“I never said I had a Razor Crest, I said I had a replacement for a Razor Crest.”

Din huffed in frustration; she was right, her message didn’t specify the ship’s model and he was undoubtedly guilty of assuming it was a Razor Crest, but none of that did anything to ease his irritation. “We don’t have time for this-”

“Hang on a second!” The mechanic interrupted and gestured towards the scrapped ship beside her. “Do you have any idea what this is?”

“Yes, it’s an N-1 starfighter, handmade for the royal guard and commissioned personally by the Queen of Naboo.” (Y/N) breathed in awe, her eyes examining the ship in front of her as though it were made of pure beskar; when she realized that they were both staring at her, she flashed them an embarrassed smile. “Back on Naboo, I learned how to fly in an old starfighter just like this. I never thought I’d ever see one all the way out here in the Outer Rim…”

“Alor’ad, this is a pile of junk.”

Peli let out an overly-dramatic sigh. “Do you want your credits back?”

“Yes.” Din bluntly replied.

“No skin off my dip-swap.” The mechanic shrugged and called out to her crew, “Droids, bring this lovely couple their money! Here you go, it’s that easy. Sorry to waste your time, okay?” An awkward silence filled the hangar’s alcove as they waited and after a beat, Peli finally spoke up. “While we’re waiting, can I tell you a little something about this honey?”

Before he could shoot down her offer, (Y/N) rested a hand on his arm and smiled. “Sweetheart, Peli obviously went to a lot of trouble to find us this ship. The least we can do is hear what she has to say, right?” Dank farrik, she’s good at that, Din thought with a small groan of defeat, his resolve crumbling at the sight of her sweet smile and imploring eyes; he gave her a stiff nod and her smile widened in triumph as she turned her attention back to Peli. “Go ahead, Peli.”

“Thanks, hon. I know she doesn’t look like much, but you got here a lot earlier than I expected and I didn’t get a chance to finish; I mean, clearly you can see I’ve got all the parts right here.” She tossed several loose parts off of the ship and into a nearby crate. “Hmm? It all has a home, okay?” When she neared one of the ship’s engines, she patted a bundle of brown sticks and whispered, “Oh, look, a family of scurriers. Let’s not disrupt the nest.” (Y/N)’s hand slipped into Din’s and he allowed her to lead him closer, unable to deny his own mounting curiosity as his eyes raked over the run-down ship. “You know how hard it is to find all original parts from way back in the Galactic Republic? I mean, these are all handmade, no droids! And not only that, what I’m gonna do – just because I like you two – is I’m gonna add on some custom modifications that’ll make her faster than a fathier. And because this baby’s pre-Empire, she’s off the grid.”

That caught Din’s attention; his Razor Crest had been pre-Empire surplus and it served him well as a bounty hunter and later on as he journeyed across the galaxy to reunite Grogu with the Jedi. The captain’s hold around his hand tightened and she nodded in agreement at Peli’s sales pitch. “N-1 starfighters can also jump into hyperspace with no docking ring.”

“You see, your gal here can see all the potential this baby has.” The mechanic continued pulling the remaining tarp off the ship while Din leaned in to examine the nearest engine. “Whoo!” He tugged on a protruding pipe and it broke off of the engine, dripping oxidized fuel onto the sand below, and he tossed it over his shoulder. “I’m telling you, Mando, you gotta believe me. This is a classic!” Peli slapped a hand on the engine and Din winced as a yellow-painted panel snapped off and fell to the ground by his boots. “Look, at least let me put her together before you decide. Can you give me that?”

Din glanced over at (Y/N), who was perched on the ship’s foothold and examining the interior of the cockpit with barely-concealed interest, and his heart warmed in his chest; their life had been far from easy after Grogu’s departure but no matter how difficult their situation got, his partner continued on without a single complaint. If repairing this ship can thank her for even a fraction of all she’s done for me then so be it, he smiled to himself and gave Peli a nod. “It’s a deal.”

The captain’s head whipped around in surprise and while her face illuminated with joy, the mechanic beamed. “There you go, hmm, get this baby up and goin’!” Peli immediately began ratcheting a screw into place and only paused to gesture towards her disorganized toolbox. “You know, it’d be a lot faster if you and Lady Naboo back there helped out…”

Din chuckled. “Fair enough.” While Peli began barking orders at her crew of droids, he joined (Y/N) at the toolbox and withdrew several ratchets, leaning in close and lowering his voice. “We’ll start on the undercarriage, Lady Naboo.”

“Mir’sheb,” She retorted, her playful glare softening into a gentle smile. “Thank you for giving Peli a chance. She’s right, you know, N-1 starfighters are an absolute dream to fly; fast and smooth, but with plenty of power.”

“Well, here’s hoping this one lives up to its reputation.” With a smile of his own, Din held out a hand to her. “C’mon, alor’ad, let’s get to work.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As unusual and off-color as she could be, Peli was right; the three of them made quick work of disassembling the starfighter, cleaning the decades-old grime off of each internal part and sanding down the external panels. Loyal to her Naboo heritage, (Y/N) argued against changing the color of the ship from royal yellow to gunmetal grey but finally relented when Din pointed out that neither of them were the Queen of Naboo’s royal guards and shouldn’t be flying the ship under such false pretenses. While the captain worked on reassembling one of the engines and he continued repairing the wiring in the undercarriage, a triumphant Peli returned to the hangar with a turbonic venturi power assimilator and announced that the starfighter would be the fastest ship in the Outer Rim.

Din looked up from the part and arched a suspicious brow beneath his helmet. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s brand-new!” Peli exclaimed and when (Y/N) gave her a pointed look, she smiled sheepishly. “Well, Jawa-new.”

His helmet tilted to the side in confusion. “The Jawas had a turbonic power assimilator from a Galactic Republic-era starfighter?”

“…They didn’t have it. They got it.”

(Y/N) frowned. “From where?”

“Tatooine is a garden of many bounties.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I gave them a list.”

Din’s eyes narrowed. “Of parts?”

Peli nodded nonchalantly and shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And they find them for you?” (Y/N) asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she studied Peli in disbelief.

Raising her hands, the mechanic replied, “I don’t ask, they don’t tell. In exchange, I let ‘em pick through my dumpster.”

Din and (Y/N) exchanged a look. “Can we meet them?”

“Yeah, sure. R5!” Peli shouted over her shoulder into the hangar. “See if the Jawas are still out back!” She turned back to them with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Dated a Jawa for a while. They’re quite furry, very furry. Lots of issues.” Din’s nose wrinkled in disgust and (Y/N) quickly scratched her nose to hide her grimace but they were spared from answering by the arrival of two Jawas. “Oh, here they are.”

“If we give them a list of parts, could they get them for us?”

Peli translated Din’s question in Jawaese and when one of the Jawas replied, she nodded. “They said make a wish-list and they’ll see what’s available.”

“Okay, we’re looking for mostly bolt-on aftermarket speed mods.” Din gestured towards the pulled-apart ship. “This is all hand-built, custom.”

His partner nodded in agreement. “We’ll also be needing vintage hyperware if it’s gonna fit an antique.”

“Listen to you two!” Peli scoffed at their obvious nitpicking. “Don’t worry about the shape and size. Just get the parts you want with the specs you need and I’m gonna make it work, all right? I dated a Jawa, I know what I’m doing, right?” One of the Jawas suddenly piped up and Peli waved him off. “Oh, that’s okay, I’m working on me right now. Just go find the parts.” The Jawas turned to leave the hangar and she shook her head. “Furry.”

The twin suns of Tatooine were beginning to set when Peli dragged Din and (Y/N) away from their work to see the nearly-completed cockpit; the mechanic hollowed out the droid port and lengthened the pilot’s seat, sinking it further towards the rear droid port and adding extra padding so that two people could fit comfortably, the pilot in back and the passenger in front. This’ll be cozy, Din thought to himself, his face warming as (Y/N) gave him a flirtatious smile and wrapped an arm around his waist.

Din cleared his throat and looked over at Peli in the cockpit. “The entire vapor manifold is missing.”

“Trust me, the last thing you want strangling your thrust capacitor is a vapor manifold,” She called out as she ratcheted a bolt into a control panel. “I fabricated you this induction intake charger that’s gonna double your output coefficient.”

“It’ll also blow the shaft out of our motivator block.”

The mechanic let out an impatient huff and waved them over. “That’s why I’m reinforcing your compression housing, and you can access it by using this Kineso-switch right here.” She pointed to a covered button on the front-facing dashboard. “You hit this button, you’re gonna evacuate your exhaust manifold, if you know what I mean.”

(Y/N) chuckled and the both of them got back to work reassembling the ship and sanding down the exterior panels. They worked alongside Peli’s crew of droids well into the night, installing the internal engine mechanisms while the droids assisted the mechanic with the exhaust ports; (Y/N) suppressed yawns behind her hand and even Din’s eyes were beginning to burn from exhaustion but they continued on, eager to finish assembling the starfighter.

“There!” The captain finished tightening a bolt and sighed, leaning back against the engine and looking up at the alcove’s ceiling. “My people sure know how to build ships, huh? The Naboo could really give Corellians a run for their money…”

Din moved to stand before her, wiping a smudge of grease off her cheek with his gloved thumb. “I still wish it was a Razor Crest, but I can’t deny that I had a good time fixing this ship with you today.”

(Y/N) smiled and leaned into his touch. “So did I. Even if we decide not to take it, it was nice being able to spend time with you that didn’t revolve around gunfights or injuries; you’ve shared so much of your Mandalorian culture and customs with me, and today I had a chance to share a little of my Naboo culture with you.” Before he could reply, the Jawas entered the hangar’s alcove carrying a long cylindrical part between them and (Y/N) let out a low whistle. “That was fast.”

“Those critters could find a skud in a krill pond.” Peli watched them hurry over to the Jawas and take the part from them. “Will that do?”

“Where did they get a cyrogenic density combustion booster?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Sure,” Din and (Y/N) replied at the same time, both wary yet impressed by the Jawas’ skills.

Peli addressed the two Jawas in Jawaese and when they replied, she held up a hand to stop their rambling. “I got it. They said they crawled under a Pyke spice runner and crimped it off while they were refueling.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise and Din raised an impressed brow. “Gutsy little fellas.”

“Let me tell you something, Pykes do not mess around. Ever since they’ve been moving spice through the system, everything’s gone to hell; everyone’s afraid of ‘em and law enforcement won’t even go near ‘em!”

While Peli continued ranting about the Pykes, Din reached into his belt and tossed the Jawas a small bag of credits. “Well, thanks.”

“Thanks? What? Are you kidding me?” Peli watched the two Jawas run off and followed Din as he made his way towards the back of the starfighter. “What’d you do that for? You’re gonna spoil ‘em! Are you trying to make me look bad?”

“I think they earned it this time, Peli.” (Y/N) chuckled at the mechanic’s outrage and perched herself on a nearby storage container. “Here’s hoping that their risk was worth it.”

Din and Peli inserted the booster into its port, Din smiling to himself when the part slid easily into place. “It fits.”

“You see? I told you two not to worry, those little guys know their stuff! I’m gonna go get some shut-eye; if you wanna rest, there’s a couple of cots in the office that you two can use.” Peli patted his arm and walked away as she called out, “Droids! Start cleaning up some of this mess, make yourselves useful.”

Din and (Y/N) helped tidy up the alcove before retreating into the office and pushing both cots together; after turning the lights off, Din removed his helmet and laid down beside the captain, the faint moonlight illuminating her face and the smile playing on her lips as her (Y/E/C) eyes met his. “I’ve missed seeing those beautiful eyes of yours.” Din felt his face warm at her compliment. “Your voice is still my favorite, but your eyes are a very close second.”

Reminded of their flirtatious exchange back on Glavis, Din hummed and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. “You know, I seem to recall promising to do something the moment we were alone together…”

His partner’s smile widened, her soft fingers caressing his face and tracing the outline of his lips. “Mmm, and suddenly I’m not so tired anymore.”

“You sure? ‘Cause all that talking you did while you were sleeping earlier must’ve really-” Din’s words quickly morphed into a burst of laughter when her fingers dug into the exposed skin of his neck and when their lips finally brushed against one another’s in a searing kiss, he could swear that the tiny office in the middle of a Tatooine hangar was heaven.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, they finished the final touches on the starfighter and watched as Peli’s droids steered the gleaming ship into the center of the hangar, Din’s chest swelling with pride at the result of their hard work.

“Oh, not a gram of fat on her!” Peli beamed and wiped down a rear panel with her work rag. “You know, no one’s catching you two in this thing.”

Din began to circle the starfighter, examining every inch of it and admiring the sheer excellence of Naboo ship-building; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peli and (Y/N) exchange knowing looks and in that moment, he decided that an N-1 starfighter might just be the perfect ship for their small clan. “Think she’s ready?”

“Ready as she’ll ever be.” Peli nodded, looking over at (Y/N) as she ran a reverent hand along the ship’s smooth side. “Start her up, hon.”

“Really?”

Peli smiled at the captain’s visible excitement. “Yeah, start her up!”

(Y/N) practically leapt into the cockpit and ignited the engines, frowning a little when they only sputtered and whirled. “It’s not turning over.”

“Give it a little bit more juice!”

Following the mechanic’s instructions, she flipped several switches and ignited the engines again; Peli grinned in approval and Din jumped in surprise as they roared to life, their power causing the ship to shudder and the ground to shake beneath their feet. Beaming, (Y/N) looked up from the controls and shouted out, “These engines are louder than a kriffing krayt dragon!”

Din chuckled and looked over at Peli. “That’s a lot of engine for a little ship.”

“Yeah, well, see what she can do!” Peli shouted over the roar of the engines.

(Y/N) whooped in agreement but Din was a little less enthusiastic about Peli’s suggestion. “Shouldn’t we run a diagnostic first?”

“Nah, I can hear her! She’s purring!”

“C’mon, sweetheart, you haven’t lived until you’ve flown a Naboo starfighter!” (Y/N) held out an inviting hand and Din relented, climbing into the cockpit behind her and closing the windshield. “Cozy back there?”

“Very.” Reaching around either side of his partner, Din took hold of the controls and guided the ship upwards into the skies of Mos Eisley. “Engaging forward drives.” The ship eased forward and he frowned to himself, unused to handling a smaller ship’s controls. “She handles a little bumpy.”

From her seat in front of him, the captain shook her head in exasperation. “That’s because you’re used to a gunship but she’s a starfighter, so fly her like one.”

“Listen to your gal, Mando, she knows her stuff.” Peli added, her voice emanating from the ship’s communication radio.

Din released a small sigh. “Okay, I’ll open her up.” After a moment’s hesitation, he pushed the controls and the starfighter suddenly shot forward, the force of it sending (Y/N) back against his armored chest and causing her to cheer in excitement. A rush of adrenaline filled Din and he couldn’t help but grin as he maneuvered around the rocky outcroppings at the edge of the city with ease. “Dank farrik, she’s fast.”

“Smooth?”

“As a gonk’s scomp jack.”

Peli chuckled. “There you go, some teamwork!”

“Controls are real snappy. How’s the maneuverability?”

“You tell me. Point your navigational disposition between the two suns, you’ll come up to Beggar’s Canyon.” (Y/N) tensed up in anticipation and Din tilted the ship sideways, entering the canyon and accelerating as he navigated its tight corners. “How’s it handling?”

He sped around another turn. “Tight. She tracks like a rail-speeder.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” (Y/N)’s voice was full of delight; she was obviously enjoying the starfighter as much as he was. “N-1 starfighters are an absolute dream to fly!”

Grinning beneath his helmet, Din nudged his arm against her side and tightened his gloved hands around the controls. “Then let’s see what she’s got, alor’ad.” With a sharp jerk of the controls, the starfighter shot straight into the sky and sent a laughing (Y/N) right into his chest as they climbed higher and higher into the upper atmosphere, the brightness of Tatooine gone and replaced by the inky black of space. He slowed down once he spotted the commercial transport they’d departed the day before and flew alongside the massive ship. The Rodian child he’d caught watching him while (Y/N) slept on his shoulder had his long-fingered hands pressed right up against the window as he stared at them in awe; Din gave the child a nod and (Y/N) waved before he sped off around the commercial transport, steering the starfighter into a corkscrew spin and chuckling when the captain cheered in recognition at her signature flying maneuver. I never would’ve thought there was a ship out there that could rival the Razor Crest but this one seems to be doing just that, he thought to himself, knowing that there was no way they were leaving Tatooine without the starfighter.

 A rapid beeping from the front-facing console grabbed Din’s attention and before he could find out what was wrong, (Y/N) groaned from her seat in front of him. “Dank farrik, it’s X-Wings…”

The two X-Wings pulled up on either side of the starfighter and one officer came through on the communication radio. “Run your beacon for me, N-1.”

“Were we doing something wrong, officer?”

“You’re not allowed to fly that fast next to a commercial ship,” The youthful-sounding officer ignored his question. “You’re also operating without a beacon. I’m gonna need you to run one for us.”

Din rolled his eyes but nodded. “Sorry, officer, we got a little carried away there.” Before him, his partner pressed a button on the side panel. “Transmitting now.”

There was a moment of silence. “Hmm. Your engine model doesn’t match your power drive.”

(Y/N) stifled a huff of frustration and Din clenched his jaw. “We just built her. We were taking her up for a test flight, haven’t been able to update the registration just yet.”

“We’re gonna need to see your title tabs. Send us a ping.”

“Maker, here we go again…” (Y/N) mumbled under her breath before addressing the officer. “Yeah, sorry, officer, but our transmitter isn’t hooked up yet. We’ll head right back to Mos Eisley and get it sorted out.”

The officer remained unfazed. “Relinquish your flight controls for remote-control access-”

“Hold on a second there, Lieutenant.” The captain stiffened at the sound of the second officer’s voice and Din anxiously squeezed the controls, both recognizing the X-Wing pilot’s voice from Maldo Kreis. “I think we can let them off with a warning this time.”

“Thank you, officer, I’ll have that taken care of.”

Just as he prepared to leave, the second officer piped up again. “One thing before you go.”

Son of a mud-scuffer, Din swore to himself. “Yes?”

“Your voices are mighty familiar. Did you two used to fly a Razor Crest?”

(Y/N) attempted an incredulous laugh. “I think you have the wrong guys, officer.”

“That ship showed up on a transponder log back in Nevarro in an incident involving Imperial remnants.”

Both Din and (Y/N) froze at the second officer’s words and Din recalled the day they’d destroyed the Imperial laboratory; as he remembered learning about the experiments the Imps had conducted using Grogu’s blood and helping (Y/N) through her panic attack, she nudged his abdomen with her elbow and tapped a finger against the covered Kineso-switch. Her eyes met his visor through their reflections on the windshield and when Din gave her a nod, she flipped open the cover and pressed the button, sending the starfighter shooting off into space and away from the X-Wings.

They both laughed in elation at their successful escape and (Y/N) turned her head so that he could see her grin. “Where the hell was that button when we were on Maldo Kreis?!”

Din snickered, briefly touching his helmet to her head before letting go of the controls and guiding her hands onto them. “Why don’t you fly us back to Mos Eisley? After all, you’re still the alor’ad.”

His partner’s grin widened. “Damn straight.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and relaxed as she expertly piloted them back onto Tatooine and through the skies to Bay Three-Five in Mos Eisley. Once the ship landed, they opened the windshield and looked over at Peli emerged from her office. “Whoo! Well, how was it?”

The two of them shared a brief glance before turning back to Peli. “Wizard.”

The mechanic chuckled at their shared answer and watched as they started climbing out of the cockpit. “Those J-type pulse engines really tighten the old evacuation port, don’t they?” Din jumped down onto the sand and helped (Y/N) down next. “Oh, and by the way, an old friend of yours dropped by, said she was looking for the both of you.”

Din’s good mood instantly vanished. “A friend of ours?”

“Don’t worry, I told her I didn’t know where you two were, then I locked her out and engaged the hangar security system.”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) looked between Din and Peli. “Did she tell you her name?”

“Fennec Shand.”

Both Din and (Y/N) instinctively reached for their blasters and looked up, only to see the familiar face of the woman who’d helped them rescue Grogu from Moff Gideon. Peli yelped in surprise and walked away to reprimand her crew of droids, and Fennec smirked in amusement before jumping down off of the stacked cargo containers she’d perched herself on. “By any chance, are you two looking for work?”

Din glanced over at (Y/N), who merely shrugged her shoulders, then turned back to Fennec. “We could be.”

“The pay is good.” The assassin pulled out a sack of credits and tossed it to him with a smile.

While Din weighed the sizable sack in his hand, (Y/N) asked, “What’s the bounty?”

“No bounty, we need muscle.”

The captain’s brows rose in surprise as Din nodded. “Boba Fett.”

Fennec’s smile melted into a serious expression; whatever was going on with the famed bounty hunter, it was serious enough to sober one of the galaxy’s most deadly assassins. “He sure would appreciate it.”

Turning back to (Y/N), he read the look in her eyes and when she gave him a nod, he tossed the sack of credits back to Fennec. “Tell him it’s on the house. But first…”

“We need to pay a visit to a little friend.” (Y/N) finished, slipping her hand into his and flashing him a smile. Now that they had a ship of their own again, they could finally go and visit Grogu.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Five
The Padawan

As (Y/N) piloted the starfighter out of hyperspace, she took a moment to admire the peaceful-looking planet before them; the bounties she and Din had hunted down tended to shy away from them, preferring to hide themselves on more populated trade planets, so it had been quite a while since she’d seen a place that reminded her of her home world. I never thought I could miss Naboo any more than I already do, she thought to herself, briefly closing her eyes as memories of swimming in the glassy waters of Lake Country and hiking through the green forests came to mind.

“What’re you thinking about, ner cyar’ika alor’ad?”

Din’s gloved hands had been absentmindedly tracing patterns against her abdomen throughout their trip, so she let go of the controls to take hold of one and press a kiss onto the smooth leather covering his knuckles. “Naboo. I wonder how much it’s changed since I left; it was under the Empire’s control for so many years but now that the New Republic’s finally beginning to affect real change in the galaxy, I kind of wonder if it’s anything like I remember.”

Her partner hummed thoughtfully while she piloted the starfighter down into the planet’s upper atmosphere. “I know that Naboo still holds painful memories for you, but maybe after we visit Grogu and help Fett out on Tatooine…well, you and I could always travel there, if you’d like.”

The thought of returning to her home planet with Din by her side brought a smile to (Y/N)’s lips and she nodded, pressing another kiss to his hand before taking hold of the ship’s controls. “I’d like that very much, Din.”

They descended down from the upper atmosphere and flew through the sky-blue skies, weaving between the rolling green mountains as they followed the honing signal the Jedi’s R2 unit projected into the starfighter. (Y/N) flipped several blinking switches and accelerated into the landing sequence, unable to contain her excitement now that they were on the precipice of seeing Grogu again. Although she was far better at ignoring her grief than Din was, she still missed the little guy with all her heart and couldn’t wait to see how well his Jedi training was going; they’d only been given sporadic updates on his progress but they cherished each transmission, beyond proud of Grogu and his strengthening abilities.

While she guided the starfighter down onto the surface, Din gave her waist a reassuring squeeze and once they landed, he jumped down from the cockpit before turning to help her descend. The Jedi’s blue and white R2 unit was waiting for them by the overgrown grass and after exchanging a look, they approached the droid. “Hello, friend. We’re looking for Skywalker.”

The droid beeped and whistled, and (Y/N) suppressed her amused grin at its more colorful use of binary. “We came to see the kid. Grogu?” The R2 unit emitted another series of beeps and whistles before turning and wheeling along a well-worn path through the tall grass; they followed after it and she murmured under her breath, “The little guy better not be picking up any bad language from that droid.”

With a chuckle, Din reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers together as they followed the droid deeper into the bamboo forest. I’m glad that this is where Grogu’s completing his training, (Y/N) thought to herself as sunlight streamed down through the canopy of leaves above and a warm breeze played along the branches. They continued down the path but became distracted by the sight of a formidable ant droid in the distance; it was hauling a large rock on its metal back and while they watched, it crawled away in the direction they were headed.

“I guess Skywalker’s having a little construction work done.” She commented but before Din could reply, the R2 unit whistled loudly and impatiently at them to keep going. “You know, that droid could really use an attitude adjustment…”

“Bet you’re glad I convinced you not to keep the starfighter’s droid port now, huh?”

(Y/N) playfully shoved Din’s arm at his teasing but allowed him to lead her down the path after the droid; they entered a large clearing, where they saw dozens of ant droids carrying flattened stones up a small hill and stacking them into the beginnings of a towering structure. To her, the half-completed building appeared to be some sort of temple and she silently wondered if Grogu would soon be joined by more padawans, or students of a Jedi master.

One of the ant droids approached the R2 unit and while they exchanged a series of beeps and whistles, Din turned away from the construction site. “Is this where they are?” The R2 unit ignored her partner’s question, backing itself into an upright position and immediately powering down. “Hey, droid.” The droid remained silent. “Hey.”

“Didn’t I tell you that it needed an attitude adjustment?” (Y/N) huffed in annoyance, bending down to the droid’s level and waving a hand in front of it. “Don’t shut off. Wake up.”

As she straightened herself, Din sighed and turned to a nearby group of ant droids hard at work stacking smaller rocks. “Hey, we’re looking for Skywalker. He had a kid with him?” The ant droids didn’t acknowledge them as they placed a row of bamboo poles on top of two short pillars of rocks and added a bushel of leaves on one end. “…Is that a bench?”

“You’ve gotta be kriffing kidding me,” She groaned as the ant droids crawled away. “Is anyone here? Anyone alive?” When she received no reply, she turned to Din with an unimpressed frown on her face. “C’mon, if we have to wait for someone to show up then we might as well sit.” She took hold of his hand and led him to the makeshift bench, sitting down beside him with a sigh of frustration. “I hate astromech droids.”

“You and me both, alor’ad. Don’t they think we’ve already waited long enough to see the kid?”

Din’s irritation was evident in his modulated voice and (Y/N) was reminded that he and Grogu traveled together long before she’d joined him as his business partner; if she was annoyed at the mere prospect of waiting to see the child, then she could only imagine how the Mandalorian was feeling. “Well, we wouldn’t want to barge in and interrupt one of his lessons.” Still clutching his hand in hers, she brought the other up to cradle the side of his helmet and caressed his beskar-covered cheek with her thumb. “Why don’t you rest a little while I keep watch? You don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to, just try and relax.”

After considering her offer, Din nodded and lowered himself down onto the bamboo poles, resting his helmeted head on her lap and sighing in satisfaction when her hands leisurely began to massage the tense muscles of his neck. “Mmm…Gar tigaanur cuyir mand’bor,” He groaned when she rubbed on a particularly stiff knot and she bit back her growing smile, secretly proud of her ability to so easily affect her fearsome Mandalorian. “Gar’re bid jate, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

The tension slowly but surely disappeared and after a while, Din’s breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. With the comfortable weight of his head on her lap and the warm breeze dancing across the clearing, (Y/N)’s own eyes began to grow heavy; she leaned her head against her shoulder and although she tried to fight off her drowsiness, she soon succumbed to sleep. A faint sound nearby instantly woke her up and she drew her blaster at the exact same time as Din, both weapons pointing directly at an old friend of theirs.

“You two make a good team,” Ahsoka Tano smirked, leaning back against a tree with her arms crossed while they holstered their blasters. “And an even cuter couple.”

(Y/N) rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she moved to stand beside Din. “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to know that you talk in your sleep.”

The Mandalorian’s shoulders heaved with suppressed laughter and when (Y/N) shot him a warning look, he shrugged and rested his hand on the small of her back. “Told you so.” She rolled her eyes and he turned back to the Jedi. “We didn’t expect to see you here.”

Ahsoka smiled. “I’m an old friend of the family.”

Small galaxy, (Y/N) thought with an inward shrug before speaking up. “I thought you weren’t going to help train Grogu.”

“I’m not. Master Luke is.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

She pushed herself off the tree and walked over to the powered-up R2 unit. “That’s my question for you two.”

Din’s helmet tilted in confusion. “We’re here to see the kid.”

“That’s why R2 brought you to me instead,” Ahsoka rested a hand on the droid’s dome and chuckled lightly when it rocked and beeped in delight.

Tearing her eyes away from the Jedi and droid, (Y/N) looked over at the half-built structure on the hill. “What is this place?”

The Jedi followed her eyes to the structure and watched the ant droids work for a moment before answering, “There’s nothing now, but will someday be a great school. Grogu will be its first student.”

Din’s gloved hand flexed against the small of her back. “We’d like to know how he’s doing.”

“He is doing fine.”

(Y/N)’s exasperation flared at Ahsoka’s vague reply. “We’d like to see him.”

“I know you do, Captain.” The Jedi pursed her lips, a troubled expression crossing her features as she took a deep breath and gestured towards the nearby forest. “Let’s take a walk.” She led them down a path that weaved between the bamboo trees and the longer they walked, the more uneasy (Y/N) began to feel; Din’s touch soon left her back in favor of holding her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as she shot him an anxious glance. After a while, Ahsoka was the first to break the tense silence. “I warned you both when we met that your attachment to Grogu would be hard to let go of.”

“He was a Mandalorian foundling in our care,” Din tersely replied. “We just wanna make sure he’s safe.”

Ahsoka smiled and gestured towards the peaceful bamboo forest surrounding them. “There’s no place in the galaxy more safe than here with Luke.”

Recalling the test she’d put Grogu through back on Corvus and everything she’d said afterwards, (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “I don’t understand why you’re all right with Skywalker’s decision to train the little guy when you wouldn’t.”

The Jedi came to a stop and exhaled before turning to face them. “Because it was his choice. I don’t control the wants of others.”

“Then, it’s our choice to go and see him.” Din’s retort was resolute and (Y/N) nodded in support, her free hand resting comfortingly against the unarmored portion of his arm.

“Of course, if that is what you wish.”

With a guarded look in her eyes, Ahsoka clasped her hands behind her back and faced forward; they did the same and there, on the crest of a nearby hill, sat Grogu; he was resting under the shade of a tree as Luke Skywalker sat facing him, their eyes closed as they seemingly meditated together. A happy smile spread across (Y/N)’s face while Din’s grip on her hand tightened and when she turned to look at him, he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss. “You ready for this?” He whispered and when she gave him an eager nod, he pulled back and spared Ahsoka a brief glance as they started forward. “All right.”

“Are you doing this for Grogu, or are you doing this for yourselves?”

They froze mid-step at the Jedi’s carefully-worded inquiry, (Y/N)’s heart plummeting in her chest while Din reached into the pouch at his waist and withdrew the small bundle containing the beskar armor they’d commissioned for the child. “We just…we wanna give him this.”

Ahsoka arched a brow. “Why? So he will remember you both?”

“No. As a Mandalorian foundling, he should have this.” Din’s voice caught in his throat and (Y/N) looked down to hide the tears prickling in her eyes. “It’s his right.”

“Foundling.” The Jedi tested the word out before gesturing to the hill in the distance. “Perhaps he is a Padawan now.”

(Y/N)’s jaw clenched in frustration at their old friend and her cryptic words but her damp eyes remained trained on her boots. “Well, either way, this armor will protect him until he’s able to protect himself.”

“…If you two are set on it, then allow me to deliver it.”

Ahsoka’s reply cut deep into (Y/N)’s heart and she finally forced herself to look up, her gaze fixed entirely on Grogu’s small form as her partner squeezed her hand and choked out, “We came all this way. He’s right there.”

There was a moment of silence before Ahsoka stepped forward and rested a comforting hand on Din’s shoulder, but neither of them looked away from the meditating pair in the distance. “Grogu misses you both a great deal. If he sees you, it will only make things more difficult for him.”

It was then that (Y/N) was reminded of one very crucial fact: that despite nearly being older than both her and Din combined and possessing an incredible ability that they could never hope to imagine, Grogu was still only a child. Seeing them after spending so much time apart and being forced to say goodbye all over again would almost certainly break his heart, and then he would no longer have the focus or drive required to become a Jedi and learn how to protect himself. We can’t be selfish, she told herself as she blinked away her tears, no matter how much it hurts us, we can’t upend the path that Grogu chose to follow.

Beside her, it seemed as though Din was also grappling with their devastating situation and it was with a heavy heart that she tore her gaze away from the child and fixed it on her partner. “Sweetheart…”

The Mandalorian looked over at (Y/N), who couldn’t do anything but look into the visor of his helmet and hope that he understood what needed to be done; she knew that she didn’t possess the strength to say it out loud, to verbally crush their dreams of a happy reunion they’d held onto during all the months they’d spent shedding their blood, sweat and tears to make it happen. She watched as Din held out the bundle of armor to Ahsoka and briefly closed her eyes at the sound of tight emotion in his modulated voice. “Make sure he’s protected.”

(Y/N) didn’t watch as the Jedi took the bundle away, choosing instead to focus on the foliage littering the ground of the bamboo forest as Din led her back down the weaving path and away from Grogu. Her vision was blurred by hot tears and for that she was grateful; she couldn’t stomach looking at the peaceful forest planet a minute longer, the idyllic site of what should’ve been their reunion with the child they’d come to consider their own. They passed the blue and white R2 unit, which beeped out a subdued farewell to them, and left the spacious clearing that was filled with ant droids, hard at work building the school that Grogu and children just like him would attend as they studied the ways of the Jedi. They reached the starfighter and silently climbed into the cockpit, (Y/N) in the front seat and Din seated behind her, and she automatically prepared the ship for take-off and guided it up off the ground. Neither of them uttered a single word while she piloted the starfighter through the upper atmosphere and punched in the coordinates for Tatooine; it wasn’t until they entered hyperspace that she felt Din shudder with suppressed sobs and that was when her own resolve crumbled away, a sob tearing itself from her throat as tears streamed down her face.

“I know,” Behind her, Din removed his helmet and lowered it to rest on her lap, his trembling arms pulling her back into a tight embrace while she buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I know, alor’ad. I thought…I-I really thought we’d finally see him…”

When words failed him, Din nuzzled his face into her hair and (Y/N) reached up to stroke his rumpled curls. “We’ll see him again, Din…we’ll see him again…we’ll see him again…” As the swirling lights of hyperspace surrounded them, they cried in one another’s arms and mourned the loss of Grogu for a second time.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Six
The Daimyo

“If someone told me five years ago that I’d fly a Naboo starfighter to Tatooine and willingly pay a visit to Jabba the Hutt’s place alongside a Mandalorian, I would've laughed in their face.” (Y/N) remarked while their starfighter approached the deceased crime lord’s grand palace, the bright Tatooine suns reflecting off their gleaming ship as they sped through the late afternoon sky.

The captain’s voice was still a little hoarse from hours of crying but she was doing her best to sound upbeat for both their sakes, and a grateful Din cracked a small smile beneath his helmet while he flew the starfighter into the palace’s impressive hangar. “The universe works in strange and mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” The ship landed gracefully on the sand-covered ground and once Din opened the windshield, he climbed down and turned to help (Y/N) descend; he continued holding her hand as they approached the armed Gamorrean guard stationed at the front of their starfighter, the creature warily gripping the axe in his hands and grunting. “We’re here at the request of Fennec Shand.”

The Gamorrean nodded and led them into the palace. While Din had never visited the infamous lair of Jabba the Hutt and later Bib Fortuna, he’d heard stories from other bounty hunters during his time with the Guild and learned enough to know better than to accept jobs from either crime lord. Judging from the cautious expression on (Y/N)’s face as they made their way through the dimly-lit halls, she’d heard some of the same stories he had; Din gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she looked over at him, the worry lines smoothing out into a smile of thanks when she squeezed his gloved hand back.

They soon found themselves entering the throne room and the impressive chamber was empty save for Boba Fett and Fennec Shand, the former seated on the stone throne while the latter leaned against its arm. The pair’s low conversation stopped when they entered and Boba gave them a thin smile before standing and making his way down to them. “It’s good to see you two again.” He shook Din’s hand first and then (Y/N)’s as Fennec stood beside him. “Fennec tells me that you had some business to attend to before coming here; I apologize if my invitation intruded on your plans in any way.”

Hiding her sadness behind a charming smile, (Y/N) replied, “After all you and Fennec did to help us, accepting your invitation as quickly as possible was the least we could do.”

Din nodded in agreement. “And based on what Fennec told us in Mos Eisley, your situation called for haste.”

“The others will be arriving soon for the briefing on our current situation,” Boba sighed and adjusted his hold on his green-painted beskar helmet. “Which, for full transparency, does not bode well for us. The Pyke Syndicate is amassing foot soldiers and all signs indicate that an attack is on the horizon.”

“I wouldn’t count our forces out just yet.” Fennec jutted her chin out towards the staircase across the throne room where a small group of people were descending; they were on the younger side and their limbs possessed various droid modifications, but the hardened edge in their eyes made it clear that they shouldn’t be underestimated. They were followed by a towering black-haired Wookie, who was tightly clutching the arm of a handcuffed Twi’lek man, and another Gamorrean guard. “And with you two at our side, we make for quite a formidable Gotra.”

Fennec and Boba moved to the center of the room as a hologram of Mos Espa flickered to life and while the others gathered around it, Din and (Y/N) stood off to the side; the captain clutched tight to his hand and when he tilted his helmet in confusion, she whispered, “I don’t wanna fall through the trapdoor and become rancor chow.”

“…Alor’ad, I don’t think there’s a rancor living down there anymore.”

“Says the person wearing beskar armor and a kriffing jetpack.” His partner cast another wary look at the metal grating covering the floor of the throne room before biting her lip and quirking a brow at him. “Promise you’ll catch me if there’s a freak accident and that thing opens up while I’m standing on it?”

Din smiled at (Y/N)’s question but just as he was about to reply, Fennec addressed the small group. “The Pyke Syndicate has been gathering soldiers the last few weeks. Mayor Mok Shaiz is on their payroll and has flown off-world, which leads us to believe the storm is about to break.”

“I-It was a scheduled vacation, actually.”

Fennec rolled her eyes at the Twi’lek’s interruption and shot him a withering glare, sending him stumbling back with a murmured apology as she continued. “Here’s a map of where they are gathering, based on whispers.” She gestured to the holographic map of Mos Espa and began to circle the group. “The three crime families of Mos Espa seem willing to lay low and let the Pykes move on our territory.”

Boba looked away from the map and towards Din and (Y/N), drawing the attention of the others while he spoke. “This is the Mandalorian Din Djarin and former Alliance Starfleet Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Thanks to them and Krrsanthan, we have enough experienced muscle to act as enforcers.” The Wookie nodded while the group eyed Din and (Y/N) curiously, no doubt wondering how a veteran of the Rebellion ended up working alongside a Mandalorian bounty hunter.

“The Mods have done a thorough job of surveying the streets, but we lack the numbers to cover our territory if an all-out war comes. We need foot soldiers.”

The assassin’s words reminded Din of a similar instance when he’d required the help of those who resided on Tatooine and although their enemies couldn’t be any more different, he knew that the people he had in mind would be perfect for the job. “We might be able to help with that.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement, a knowing gleam in her eyes as she glanced between him and Boba. “We’re on friendly terms with Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of Mos Pelgo.” The daimyo’s brow rose as realization dawned across his face. “Din and I can travel there and see if we can’t call in a favor. Mos Pelgo’s a pretty remote town, but its people may still have a vested interest in the outcome of this conflict.”

Boba exchanged a look with Fennec before turning back to them and nodding. “Very well.” He glanced around at the rest of the group. “If we’re to fight, then we must ensure that we’re fed and well-rested enough to do so. Go down to the kitchens once you return the majordomo to his prison cell, the droids will prepare dinner for you all.” With words of thanks, the young mods filtered out of the throne room and were followed by Krrsanthan, the Twi’lek majordomo and both Gamorrean guards; Boba’s lips curved into a small smile as the hologram switched off and he and Fennec approached Din and (Y/N). “8D8 will show you to your quarters. Once the food is ready, I’ll have him deliver some so that you may eat in privacy before you rest.”

Din’s brow furrowed beneath his helmet. “But if the Pykes are currently amassing fighters, shouldn’t we leave for Mos Pelgo right away?”

“Our enforcers are no use to us without proper rest and according to our sources, the Pykes have no plans of attacking tonight.” Fennec’s eyes flicked between them and softened a fraction. “You both had a long journey. Rest tonight so that you may leave for Mos Pelgo when the suns rise.”

Boba nodded in agreement. “Marshal Vanth and Mos Pelgo will still be there in the morning.”

(Y/N) looked over at Din, who shrugged and stood by as she murmured their gratitude to the daimyo and the assassin. While they followed the former torture droid through the palace to their quarters, she swung their joined hands back and forth and gave him a small smile when he glanced at her. “So, Cobb Vanth. It’ll be nice to see him again after so long, won’t it?”

“It will. I’m sure that Mos Pelgo’s thriving under his sound leadership.” He felt a surge of guilt as he thought about the brave townsfolk who’d helped him and the Tuskens defeat a krayt dragon. “He might not be willing to put his town in harm’s way by taking up arms against the Pykes.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame him if he turned us down but I’ve got a feeling that he won’t; Tatooine’s the only home he’s ever known and he’ll do everything he can to keep it safe.” With a side-glance at him, the captain’s worry shifted into amusement. “You’re not still jealous of Cobb, are you?”

Din’s brow arched underneath his helmet. “What gave you the idea I was jealous of Cobb Vanth?” (Y/N) merely gave him a pointed look and he felt his face begin to warm in embarrassment, remembering all the instances when the charming marshal flirted with his partner. “Even if I was, I don’t exactly have a reason to be anymore,” He gave her hand a squeeze and nudged her shoulder with his arm. “Right?”

The captain’s smile widened as she nudged him back. “Right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re…very special, kid.”

“He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

“His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears…his anger…”

“We’re gonna find you that place you belong and they’re gonna take real good care of you, little guy.”

“Grogu misses you both a great deal. If he sees you, it will only make things more difficult for him.”

“We’ll see him again, Din…we’ll see him again…we’ll see him again…”

Din’s eyes flew open and he shot up in bed, his bare chest heaving as he struggled to regain his breath. He surveyed the dimly-lit bedchamber for any threats and when he found none, he deeply exhaled and rubbed at his face with a tired hand; despite their best efforts to aid Boba Fett in his fight against the Pyke Syndicate, it seemed that the grief of losing Grogu was impossible to ignore. At least we know he’s safe with Skywalker, Din silently told himself, but the thought did nothing to ease his sadness or worry for the child.

Wiping the sweat and wayward tears away, Din looked over at (Y/N)’s side of the bed but when he saw that it was empty, his heart leapt into his throat. He threw the covers off his legs and scrambled out of bed, already reaching for the blaster on the nearby dresser when his eyes were drawn to the gossamer curtains across the bedchamber; they softly moved in the breeze and Din breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the captain standing at the balcony, her blue satin nightgown fluttering around her legs as she gazed up at the starry sky. His footsteps were light as he slowly walked to the balcony, one hand moving the gossamer curtains aside while he stepped out into the cool Tatooine exterior, and he gave (Y/N) a small smile when she looked over at him. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, sweetheart, I tried to be quiet when I got up.”

“It’s okay, alor’ad, it was just…” Din leaned against the railing beside her and stared out at the distant sand dunes. “I had a nightmare about Grogu.”

His partner’s hand rubbed up and down his back while the other rested against his bicep. “Did you wanna talk about it?” He shook his head and she pressed a comforting kiss to his shoulder. “Seems like a bad night for dreams all around. Mine was about my early career as a smuggler, before I joined the Rebellion.”

Turning towards her, Din tucked some wayward strands of hair behind her ear and took in her unreadable expression. “You don’t talk about those years very often.”

“That’s because I’m not exactly proud of the person I was back then.” (Y/N) leaned back against the railing and shook her head. “I was eighteen when I decided that I was tired of following orders; I left the smuggling crew that took me in after I escaped Naboo and went into business for myself. I was a hot-head who didn’t care what I smuggled or who I smuggled for, just as long as I got paid, and during those couple of years I smuggled plenty of spice.” She turned back around to face the endless desert. “I told myself that I wasn’t responsible for what my clients did with it and left it at that.”

After a moment, Din wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, smiling a little when she automatically folded her hands on top of his. “What made you change your ways?”

“I visited Kessel. I saw the spice mines and the slaves that were put to work in them with my own eyes, and that’s when I knew I needed to change. I became pickier with the jobs I’d accept and I started helping people escape Imperial-controlled planets free of charge; not long after that, I caught wind that the Rebel Alliance was looking to recruit smugglers and…well, you know the rest. I know that I’ve done a lot of good in the galaxy, but this conflict with the Pykes reminded me that I wasn’t always good.”

“You’ve always been a good person, (Y/N), you were just an angry kid living in a galaxy that had taken everything from you. I was the same way, setting aside morals in order to finish jobs and get paid; Imps, gangsters, crime lords…it was all the same to me.” He tightened his hold on her and paused a moment to kiss along the smooth skin of her neck. “But we grew up and decided to change, and that’s what matters. Now look at us, defending Tatooine against a spice-running syndicate in order to make the planet a safer place to live.”

At that, (Y/N) tilted her head to give him a smile. “Working alongside a legendary bounty hunter, a master assassin, a group of cybernetically-enhanced teenagers and a Wookie…sounds pretty strange when you say it out loud.” Reaching up, her fingers carded through his brown curls as she pressed her soft lips against his, humming in approval when his eyes slid closed and he returned her languid kiss; one of his hands splayed across her abdomen to hold her securely against his front while the other moved to cup the side of her face. It wasn’t until Din deepened their kiss and his hand began to inch down that she smiled against his lips and pulled away; she giggled when he made a sound of protest and attempted to follow her lips to no avail. “You and I have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, so don’t go starting something we won’t be able to finish.”

“Oh, we’ve never had any trouble finishing, alor’ad.”

The captain rolled her eyes at his suggestive comment and struggled to keep the smile off her face as she shot him a playful glare. “Mir’sheb. You’re an absolute menace, Din Djarin. We haven’t slept in a real honest-to-Maker bed in forever, so let’s take advantage and get some decent night’s sleep. Okay?”

“Okay, okay…” Din released an over-dramatic sigh but grinned as she pressed a final kiss to his cheek. “C’mon, let’s go try this again.”

They walked back into the bedchamber arm-in-arm and crawled under the covers; he stretched out on his back while she curled up beside him and rested her head against his chest, his arm holding her securely against him as she murmured, “I love you, Din.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar'ika alor'ad,” Din whispered back, and they soon fell asleep in each other’s comforting embrace.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Favor

While (Y/N) landed the starfighter on the very outskirts of Mos Pelgo, she couldn’t help but smile as she recalled her and Din’s thrilling and death-defying adventure on the sands of Tatooine. Fighting alongside the villagers of Mos Pelgo and the Tuskens had been exciting and while she hadn’t particularly enjoyed watching her newfound partner get purposefully swallowed by a krayt dragon, she couldn’t deny the refreshing joy that both fighting alongside and flirting with the Mandalorian brought to her in those early days of their partnership.

“Hasn’t changed much,” Din remarked, jumping down from the starfighter and offering her his gloved hand. “But it looks like their peace treaty with the Tuskens is intact.”

(Y/N) looked over at the town as her partner helped her down and smiled when she spotted a villager bartering with two tan-robed Tuskens. “I told you that you were one hell of a diplomat, sweetheart.” Her smile widened when he shrugged noncommittally and ducked his helmeted head, clearly a little flustered by her praise. “C’mon, let’s go and see what Marshal Vanth’s up to.”

Before they could start towards the main street of Mos Pelgo, they were approached by a stern-looking man who pointed to a patch of sand further past the town. “You two want to park your starship, you gotta do it out there in the flats.”

(Y/N) shared a quick glance with Din before turning back to the man. “We’ll only be a moment. We’re actually looking for Marshal Vanth-”

“I don’t think you heard what I said.”

The Mandalorian stiffened at the man’s tone, his head tilting to the side and his modulated voice remaining dangerously steady as he replied, “She heard you.”

A familiar figure appeared from the doorway of a nearby building, flashing them his trademark grin and moving to stand beside the irate man. “I’ll take it from here, Deputy.” The irate deputy gave them one last look before turning and heading back towards the town’s main road, and Cobb Vanth shrugged his shoulders. “He’s new. Still a bit jumpy.” The marshal pointed to the ship behind them. “Is that a Naboo starfighter?”

“That’s what it started out as.” There was a gleam of admiration in Cobb’s eyes as he examined the starfighter with interest. “My people are wonderful ship-builders, of course, but all of our customizations took this from great to perfection.”

Cobb grinned. “Always knew you were from a fancy planet like Naboo, princess.” His smirk widened when he noticed Din’s gloved hand slip into hers. “Last time you were in these parts, you could cut the tension ‘tween you two with a blaster bolt. Nice to see you went and did somethin’ about it.”

(Y/N)’s face warmed in embarrassment while Din awkwardly cleared his throat and looked over at the marshal beside him. “Haven’t seen you since you gave up your armor. How have you been?”

“More careful. Where’s the little guy?”

Her smile suddenly falling, (Y/N) trained her gaze on the distant horizon as Din quietly replied, “Back with his own folk.”

“That’s too bad.” Cobb’s voice was filled with genuine regret and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him cast them both a sympathetic glance. “I guess we all three lost something we were fond of.”

There was a brief moment of silence before (Y/N) turned and forced herself to smile. “Can we buy you a drink?”

Looking between the both of them, the marshal nodded once and led them down the town’s main street to the cantina. The interior had changed since their first visit, the plain stone walls now lined with the yellowing rib-cage of the defeated krayt dragon, and (Y/N) involuntarily shivered while she and Din sat down at a table near the bar. Her partner rested his elbow on the table top and watched Cobb walk up to the bar and order two snorts of spotchka before finally speaking. “Boba Fett, the man whose armor you once wore, has taken over Jabba the Hutt’s Gotra. He intends on using his new position of power to clean up Tatooine, but he’s facing push-back from the Pyke Syndicate.”

“…Go on.”

“Since they’ve bought off the mayor of Mos Espa, they’ve been free to run spice through this planet with no resistance…until Boba Fett.” (Y/N)’s finger traced along the cracks in the wooden tabletop as she carefully watched the marshal across the cantina. “An all-out war is about to break out between Boba Fett and the Pykes.”

The Weequay bartender poured spotchka into two small glasses and Cobb brought them to their table with a troubled frown on his face. “I still don’t see what all that’s got to do with me.”

“We need you to lead a garrison.” Cobb’s expression remained unchanged at Din’s blunt statement. “Your people are good fighters and there’s plenty of credits in it for them, too.”

(Y/N) took a sip of her bright-blue spotchka as the marshal sighed and quietly replied, “The peace is intact, Mando; we took out that dragon. My people don’t want to fight no more.”

“Your town might be good for now, but it’s all part of the same planet.” She pointed out. “We need good people to step up or the spice is bound to come through these parts.”

Cobb’s lips curved into a small smile as he looked over at her. “As long as I’m here, princess, that’s not a problem.” He took a long swig of his spotchka and set the glass down onto the table, his calloused fingers gently tapping along its rim. “So, why should they risk their lives for this Boba Fett?”

(Y/N) could feel the frustration beginning to simmer within the Mandalorian seated beside her. “Mos Pelgo might be good right now-”

“Freetown.”

They both looked at one another in surprise before glancing between Cobb and the Weequay standing behind the bar. “What?”

Cobb smiled a little at their obvious confusion. “It’s called Freetown now.”

“We changed the name,” The Weequay added. “Suits us better.”

“Well, we fought side-by-side with the citizens of Freetown and they’re brave people, and the Pyke Syndicate has us outnumbered, and we need your help.”

The bartender shook his head. “The town wants no part of it. That’s a city folk fight.”

He moved down the bar to serve the stern-looking deputy and (Y/N) arched an inquisitive brow as her eyes met Cobb’s. “Is that what you say too, Marshal?”

“We’re square.”

Din leaned back, slinging an arm to rest along the back of her seat and tilting his helmeted head to the side. “Yes, we are. But I didn’t think you were one to back down from bullies.”

Exhaling through his nose, Cobb took another swig of his drink and flashed the Mandalorian a humorless grin. “See, that’s what I like about you, Mando. That big smile of yours lets you get away with anything.”

A tense silence fell over their table that was eventually broken by Din, his voice lowered and full of respect. “There’s no easy way to ask for a favor…”

(Y/N) rested her hand on his armored thigh in a small gesture of support. “Tatooine’s in trouble, and I know exactly what the spice running will end up doing to this planet.” While her partner’s gloved hand left the tabletop to rest atop hers, (Y/N) took a deep breath and cast her eyes downwards. “In my early days as a smuggler, before I joined the Rebel Alliance, I used to dabble in spice smuggling. Believe me, if we continue to allow the Pykes to run spice through Tatooine, this planet and all its people will only keep on suffering.”

The Marshal of Freetown sighed and looked between them both before finally answering. “I’ll tell you what. Things are tough around here, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Relief washed over (Y/N) and she reached across the table with her free hand to hold onto Cobb’s. “Thank you, Marshal Vanth, truly.”

“No need to be so formal, princess, just Cobb’s fine,” Cobb gave her a wink but the flirtatious attitude quickly shifted to something more serious. “You tell this Boba Fett that I’ll gather everyone up for a meeting and contact you two once we’ve come to a decision.”

Din nodded, removing his arm from the back of her seat and pushing his seat back to stand. “We will. I’m sorry that our visit wasn’t under better circumstances, but it was good seeing you all the same.”

“Likewise.” They all stood and Cobb reached across the table to shake both of their hands. “Safe travels, you two.”

With a smile, (Y/N) gave Cobb’s hand a small squeeze and replied, “May the Force be with you.” She and Din walked out of the cantina and across the street to where their starfighter was parked; once they were situated in their seats, she closed the windshield and ignited the rumbling engines before easing the ship up into the clear sky and flying back across the desert to Boba’s palace. “I know that we need all the help we can get, but I can’t help but feel a little guilty over this, Din.”

“I feel the same.” Behind her, Din’s hands moved to rest on her waist and his helmeted head rested comfortingly against the back of hers. “The people of Freetown have earned their peaceful lives. But it’s just as you said, alor’ad, the spice running will only destroy Tatooine if it’s allowed to continue without objection.”

The twin suns were beginning to set and the sky became a kaleidoscope of colors around them as the starfighter approached Boba Fett’s palace, and while (Y/N)’s hands flipped switches and pressed buttons in preparation to land inside its hangar, she silently hoped that if Cobb succeeded in convincing his villagers to fight that their support would spell the end of the Pyke Syndicate’s business on Tatooine forever. Despite the hopeful thoughts, a sudden anxious feeling began to bubble up within her; I’ve got a bad feeling about all this, she thought to herself as she climbed down from the cockpit, trying and failing to ignore the foreboding sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Gunfight

Standing before the burned-out remains of the cantina, Din frowned beneath his helmet and looked over at (Y/N) beside him. “The battle’s already begun.”

They’d immediately retired to their bedchamber once they returned from their trip to Freetown and were fast asleep when 8D8 came to their door to inform them of the explosion at The Sanctuary, the most popular cantina in Mos Espa. Since it was obvious that the Pykes were behind the attack, Boba and Fennec had immediately left the palace to investigate and as the twin suns began to rise, Din and (Y/N) also made their way to Mos Espa. Din wasn’t surprised that the Pykes made the first move in their conflict with Boba Fett, but it was still unnerving to see such a prominent establishment of the community in ruins and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the time he’d taken refuge in a cantina on Nevarro, standing off against the full might of Moff Gideon back before he’d met (Y/N).

“But why would the Pykes target the cantina?” The captain’s brows were furrowed as she surveyed the building before them. “It doesn’t make tactical sense to go after a place that Boba doesn’t have a personal connection to.”

As his unease began to steadily grow, Din placed a gloved hand on the small of his partner’s back and guided her through the blackened stone entrance, silently surveying the nearby rooftops and alleyways before following. Boba, Fennec and two of the Mods – Drash and Skad – stood in the center of the ruined cantina and turned to watch as they walked down the short steps to where they were gathered. “That was fast; the two of us only just got here. Were you able to hire any foot soldiers?”

“We think so.” Din looked over at Boba. “Cobb Vanth is raising a garrison for us.”

The daimyo nodded in gratitude while Fennec’s brows rose in surprise. “What price did you two negotiate?”

“Free.”

It was Boba’s turn to be surprised as he repeated Din’s answer “Free?”

“He’s been holding off the spice trade single-handedly,” (Y/N) explained, her arms crossed over her chest as she calmly looked around the group. “We told him we could shut it down.”

The assassin’s expression hardened and she clutched her helmet tighter to her side. “That’s not free. That’s most of Jabba the Hutt’s business.”

“That’s what the town wants.”

Boba hesitated a moment before giving Din and (Y/N) a nod. “I agree to their terms.”

While (Y/N)’s shoulders sagged in relief, Fennec frowned and looked imploringly over at Boba. “There’s a lot of credits to be made from that orange powder…”

“In the long run, it is better for us as well,” He insisted and as he continued to justify his decision, Din watched the expressions on the Mods’ faces shifted to those of respect. “Mos Espa can become a prosperous city under our protection. Spice is killing our people.” His eyes flicked over to where Din and (Y/N) stood across from him. “Let Marshal Vanth and the people of Mos Pelgo-”

“Freetown is its name now.”

“In that case, let the people of Freetown know they have my word.”

Beneath his helmet, the corner of Din’s mouth curved upwards into a self-assured smile. “You can tell Cobb Vanth himself when he arrives here with the reinforcements.”

“You are confident he will come?”

(Y/N) nodded. “We are. The people of Freetown may need a little convincing but if anyone can do it, it’s Cobb Vanth.”

Boba looked out the cantina’s entrance at the deserted street. “Well, if he does not, we are doomed; our skill is no match for the Syndicate numbers.” He turned away from the view of the street with a small sigh. “We must buy time until they arrive. We’ll lockdown at the palace…”

“It’s a bad idea.”

All four of them looked over at the Mod who’d spoken up and Boba arched a brow. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

“And where do you propose we wait for reinforcements?”

“Here.”

Din and (Y/N) exchanged a look as the daimyo’s brow rose higher. “Here? In these ruins?” Skad nodded once. “Nonsense. The palace offers greater protection.”

Drash, the second of the two Mods, took a step forward and jutted her chin out in defiance. “If you want to abandon Mos Espa and hide in your fortress, go ahead. We’re staying. The people who live here need our protection.”

Beside him, (Y/N) pursed her lips in displeasure and although she remained silent, Din knew that she disagreed with the young Mods and he couldn’t help but feel the same; Jabba the Hutt’s palace was known across the Outer Rim for its impenetrability so to Din, it made more tactical sense to draw the Pykes to the palace and away from the city. Staying here will only put the citizens of Mos Espa in more danger, he thought with a furrowed brow, his frown only deepening as he watched Boba nod. “We’ll stay.”

“Then we’ll need to deploy our forces into the city and have them patrol.” Fennec reached for the comm link fastened to her utility belt. “The more eyes we have out there, the quicker we’ll spot our reinforcements and the Pyke’s foot soldiers.”

Taking hold of (Y/N)’s hand, Din gestured over to the blown-out front window of the cantina. “The two of us will stand guard while you make the necessary arrangements.” They walked over to the window and while he peered out at the empty street, he murmured, “I don’t like this.”

“It’s a terrible plan,” The captain readily agreed, leaning a shoulder against the stone wall and sighing. “But it’s not our call to make; Tatooine’s their planet, not ours. All we can do is honor our word to Boba and hold out hope for Cobb and the people of Freetown.”

While she turned her attention back to the window before them, Din took a moment to study her features in the morning light; her (Y/E/C) eyes, so full of fire and life, were narrowed in concentration as she scanned the surrounding buildings and streets for any signs of life, and a tell-tale line formed between her brows while she began nibbling her lower lip. She was just as beautiful as the day he’d met her, and the thought of that fateful meeting brought a smile to Din’s covered face. “Do you remember our first job together?”

(Y/N)’s lips curved into a smile as she glanced over at him. “It’s a little hard to forget wiping out the remnants of an entire crime syndicate alongside a grumpy Mandalorian.”

Din chuckled. “I guess I was a little grumpy back then, wasn’t I?” He interlaced their fingers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We ended the Black Sun only hours after we met, alor’ad, so ending the Pykes shouldn’t be a problem for either of us.”

“We make one hell of a team, after all.” She rested a hand on the side of his helmet and guided him to rest his forehead against hers, her eyes fluttering closed as she took a steadying breath. Although they were supposed to be standing guard and watching for any sign of the Pykes, Din closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment of calm in his partner’s embrace before the impending storm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“As we wait for the reinforcements to arrive with Cobb Vanth from Freetown, our forces are quietly patrolling the streets of the old city.” Fennec’s arms were crossed over her chest as she paced around the ruins of the cantina; several hours had passed and with no sign of the Pykes, all they could do was wait and de-brief their current situation. “The Pyke Syndicate has not yet arrived in numbers but the minute they do, we will see them before they see us.” She glanced over at Boba, who was clutching his blaster rifle and resting his elbow atop his green-painted helmet. “The truce you negotiated with the other families of Mos Espa will ensure that they will remain neutral and allow us to gain the upper hand by surprising the arriving soldiers.”

(Y/N) leaned back against the stone wall and held up the comm link that Fennec had given her. “The Gamorrean guards are posted in the Klatooinian territory at the starport and will alert us if any of the Pyke Syndicate forces arrive, and Krrsanthan is in Trandoshan territory, keeping tabs on the streets of the municipality in front of City Hall.”

“Drash and Skad are with the other Mods, keeping an eye on the Worker’s District and the Aqualish Quarter,” Din added, shifting his weight and moving to rest his gloved hands on the buckle of his utility belt. “They promised to call in if they spot anything out of the ordinary.”

Fennec nodded and turned back to Boba. “As you can see, all our flanks are covered; nobody is sneaking up on us. When the people of Freetown arrive, we will have the forces required to pivot our strength to whatever region the Pykes choose to attack from.”

“For now?” Boba asked.

“We wait.”

The Twi’lek majordomo, who Krrsanthan had delivered to the burned-out cantina before beginning his patrol, sighed loudly and twiddled his thumbs from his seat near the back. Din glanced over at (Y/N) to ask if she needed a break from guard duty but a sudden shuffling near the doorway interrupted him before he could; they both quickly drew their blasters and aimed them at 8D8, who ignored their sudden reaction in favor of addressing Boba. “Lord Fett? There is someone here to see you.”

The daimyo’s expression remained neutral as his eyes flicked over to Fennec. “I thought you said nobody could sneak up on us.”

With a troubled frown, Fennec followed Boba’s suit and slipped her helmet on, closely watching him walk out of the cantina and moving to take up a position behind one of the building’s columns. Din and (Y/N) trailed behind them, concealing themselves behind a second column and watching as a tall figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat walked down the center of the road towards where Boba stood. The figure stopped and slowly raised their head, revealing the blue-tinged face and scarlet eyes of a Duros male, and (Y/N) stifled a surprised gasp beside him; when he spared her a brief glance, he was taken aback by the almost shell-shocked look on her face. “You know that man?”

“That’s Cad Bane.”

The captain’s whispered reply sent Din’s brows shooting upwards in surprise. “That’s Cad Bane?” During his time with the Guild, he’d heard some stories about the ruthless mercenary and the infamous jobs he’d taken throughout the Clone Wars and into the Empire’s reign, but he had no idea why his partner’s eyes filled with such hatred at the sight of Cad Bane.

Sensing his confusion, she swallowed hard and continued. “I heard stories about him back when I was a smuggler, but I didn’t meet him until I joined the Rebellion. I was ordered to evacuate a hidden settlement of Imperial defectors and their families from Jelucan, but the Imps hired Bane to track and eliminate them.” She gritted her teeth as the hand holding her blaster began to shake. “He got to them before I could.”

Din, silently cursing the Maker for forcibly reminding (Y/N) of yet another tragedy of her past, rested his free hand against the small of her back and murmured, “I’ve got you, alor’ad. I’m right here with you, just focus on my touch.” In that moment, there wasn’t much he could provide in terms of comfort except to remind her that she wasn’t alone and he prayed that it would be enough; the last thing we need is to be goaded into a gunfight, he thought even as his lips pressed together in anger at the sight of the Duros, no matter how much it’s deserved. “Everything’s gonna be okay…”

“I thought I smelled something.” Judging by the tone of his voice and the stiffness in his shoulders, Boba also knew exactly who the Duros was. “If you’re looking for a job, you’re late.”

Bane tilted his head to the side and considered the daimyo. “I’ve already got a job. I’m here to negotiate on behalf of the Pyke Syndicate.”

“I don’t negotiate with gutless murderers.”

The Duros mercenary chuckled and (Y/N) shuddered at the unpleasant sound. “If that’s not the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.”

“Clear out, and tell your bosses we know they’re outnumbered.”

“I wouldn’t be counting on the people of Freetown to be coming anytime soon.” A growing sense of dread overtook Din and he exchanged a wide-eyed glance with (Y/N), both waiting for Bane’s next words with bated breaths. “I paid Marshal Vanth a visit.” He bared his pointed teeth in amusement. “You should’ve never left him without his armor.”

Din’s vision went red as a fresh wave of anger and guilt washed over him; it had been his idea to recruit Cobb Vanth and the people of Freetown, and now he was responsible for the death of one of their closest friends. On instinct, he raised his blaster and leveled it directly at the mercenary’s chest, only vaguely aware of the captain’s unintelligible words of comfort and Fennec’s harsh whisper, “Hold your positions.”

“Before you get any ideas, I’ve got back-shooters too.” Din watched as several Pyke soldiers appeared on the rooftops surrounding the cantina. “Interesting company you keep these days, Boba. The Mandalorian and master assassin have both lost their touch, and I know for a fact that the captain lost hers long ago.” Din’s hand slid around (Y/N)’s back to securely hold her waist before she had a chance to react, holding her against him even as he fought his own desire to gun the Duros down. “Let the spice move through Mos Espa and all this can be avoided.”

Boba was silent for a long moment. “No.”

“What do you propose then?”

“I will only negotiate with the head of the Pyke Syndicate.”

Smirking, the mercenary retorted, “You mean the one that massacred your Tusken family and blamed it on a speed bike gang?” Boba stiffened just as (Y/N) had and Din clenched his jaw tight as he watched the scene unfolding before them; Boba Fett was a smart and level-headed man, but Din knew from personal experience that traits like those do nothing to quell the overwhelming rage that a loved one’s death sparks. “You know it’s true.”

The daimyo’s free hand moved to hold the barrel of his blaster rifle and Fennec suddenly stepped out from behind her column. “Boba.”

Bane’s scarlet eyes remained on Boba. “Let’s do this,” He brushed his coat back to hover his hands over the blasters holstered at his waist. “Right here, right now.”

Din’s grip on his own blaster tightened as Fennec took another step forward. “Not now. You pick when.”

“He killed Vanth. The reinforcements aren’t coming.”

“We fight on our terms, not theirs.”

“I can take him.”

“You’re emotional.”

“I can take him.”

“We need to adjust.” Fennec insisted, her strong voice cutting through the silence settling over the street. “You’ll have your moment.”

The tension surrounding them was finally broken when Boba lifted his hand from the blaster rifle’s barrel and rested it atop his vambrace, and Din couldn’t suppress his short sigh of relief. “Tell your client negotiations are terminated.”

Bane shook his head and chuckled. “You’re going soft in your old age.”

“We all do.”

They watched as Bane stepped back and slowly walked away, and Din glanced down at (Y/N) once the mercenary was out of view. “Are you okay?” She nodded but remained silent, lowering her blaster as she tried her best to mask how shaken she truly was; his heart clenched at the sight and he growled, “If Fett doesn’t kill him, I will,” He vowed, if not for (Y/N)’s sake then to avenge the Marshal of Freetown’s death.

The captain’s expression relaxed a little and she stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss onto the side of his helmet before leading him over to where Boba and Fennec stood alongside the majordomo. “That was an impressive display of restraint! Exemplary stratagem! If I may be so bold as to offer additional counsel-”

“I wonder how much he would pay for the Twi’lek,” Boba muttered darkly and Din cracked a small smile.

“Understood. Many pardons, I should not have interjected.”

“Come in, boss, come in.” Drash’s voice came through Fennec’s comm link. “Something feels strange over here.”

Boba’s shoulders stiffened in concern. “Have the Pykes arrived?”

“Not yet, but something feels off.” The Mod’s voice shook with fear and a moment later, the sounds of blasters firing mingled with shouting as she exclaimed, “The locals are attacking!”

(Y/N) looked over at Boba with widened eyes. “I thought we had a treaty.”

“So did I.”

“They laid a trap!”

Boba reached for his comm link as he hurriedly led them back into the remnants of the cantina. “Santo! Santo, come in!” The Wookie didn’t answer. “It’s a coordinated attack. We’ll have to gather our people.”

Fennec shook her head. “There’s no way to overcome their advantage, we need to take out command and control.”

He turned to the majordomo beside him. “Does the Pyke Syndicate still operate out of Mos Eisley?”

“Oh, it’s difficult to say for certain that-” Fennec and Din both cocked their weapons at him. “Mos Eisley? Yes, now that I think of it, indeed they do. More specifically, the Desert Survey Office.”

Boba turned to Fennec as she slung the strap of her blaster rifle over her shoulders. “Can you do that? Can you get there in time?”

“Worth a shot,” The assassin called over her shoulder, already sprinting out of the cantina and jumping onto the nearest speeder to begin her journey across the desert to Mos Eisley.

“You two stay here, I’ll do a quick sweep of our perimeter.”

When Boba disappeared into the back halls of the cantina, Din holstered his blaster and took (Y/N)’s hands in his. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I could say to convince you to take the starfighter and leave before the Pykes arrive, is there?”

“Not a single thing.” She looked up at him with confidence in her (Y/E/C) eyes, just as she had when she hired him to help her take down the remnants of the Black Sun so long ago. “This is our fight, Din Djarin. Ner cyar’ika beroya, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

Din’s heartbeat quickened at her familiar words and his lips curved upwards into a smile. “Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.” He gently rested his helmeted forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss. “There’s a chance that the fighting will end once Fennec completes her mission, which means that all we need to do is buy her some time. If we do end up in a gunfight, just…promise me you’ll be careful, that you won’t take any unnecessary risks?”

“I’ll be careful, sweetheart, I promise.” His partner withdrew one of her hands and brought it up to rest flat against his beskar chest-plate. “Even with all your armor on, I still worry about you getting hurt…”

“I promise you I’ll be just as careful,” Din rested a gloved hand on her cheek and caressed her skin with his thumb, watching her lean into his touch with loving eyes. In that moment, he seriously considered asking her to marry him and if she by some miracle said yes, they could be husband and wife in less than two minutes, but he stopped himself before he could; she deserved better than a rushed proposal and marriage in the middle of a blown-up cantina with a corrupt mayor’s majordomo and former torture droid watching. Just another reason for me to keep on fighting, he thought with a small sigh, allowing himself several moments of peace before reluctantly pulling away from her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Something behind him caught (Y/N)’s eye and her brow furrowed as the reality of their situation returned. “Dank farrik.”

Din turned and glanced out the doorway of the cantina to see the Pyke foot soldiers taking up positions on the rooftops and behind the street’s outdoor tables and crates. “They’re here.”

“It was just a matter of time,” Boba remarked as he reappeared from the back and moved to stand across from them at the entrance of the cantina. “Is Cad Bane with them?”

“Don’t see him.” (Y/N) turned to the daimyo with an anxious frown. “Any news on the others?”

Boba shook his head. “Would be a miracle if any survived. All three gotras of Mos Espa turned on us.”

With a small shrug, Din spared the Pykes amassing outside a brief glance. “It was the smart move.”

“It was. I suppose you two will be heading out.”

Din met (Y/N)’s gaze before looking over at Boba. “We’re not.”

“You should.”

“It’s against the Creed. I gave you my word; I’m with you until we fall.”

There was an odd tone to Boba’s voice as he asked, “You really buy into that bantha fodder?”

“I do.”

Looking between the pair of them, (Y/N) shuffled her feet and awkwardly cleared her throat. “I’m not a Mandalorian, but I am a veteran of the Rebel Alliance. I’m no stranger to putting my life on the line for a just cause, no matter how hopeless it may seem.”

Boba gave them both a firm nod. “Good.”

The three of them looked out onto the street and Din surveyed their enemy for a moment before finally speaking. “The way I see it, we have two choices. We wait until they get into position and launch a siege on their terms.”

“Or?”

“We rush out there, catch them unaware. Then, we can escape to your ship at the palace.”

He shook his head. “I can’t abandon Mos Espa. These people are counting on me.”

“Okay, then. We’ll all die in the name of honor.”

Predictably, (Y/N) rolled her eyes and shot him a look of exasperation. “Dramatic-ass bounty hunter. I agree with the sentiment, though.”

“You’re sure you two wanna stay?”

Drawing his blaster, Din smiled dryly beneath his helmet. “This is the Way.”

The captain clutched the hilt of her blaster and nodded at them both as they prepared to burst out of the cantina. “May the Force be with us.”

“If I may offer an alternative?” The three of them whirled around to face the timid majordomo, who quickly raised his hands in surrender and stood. “Shall I continue? I’ll continue. You may not know this about me…in fact, how could you? Except for what vestiges remain of my accent, of course, but I was educated on Coruscant. Not that that makes me better in any way.”

(Y/N) arched an unimpressed brow and rested her free hand on her hip. “I was born and raised on Naboo, what’s your point?”

“I thought I detected a hint of a Mid-Rim accent! Yeah, uh…I attended finishing academy. My parents were not wealthy by any means-” The Twi’lek’s tangent was interrupted by the captain’s deepening glare. “I specialized in Civic Council Negotiations.” Din perked up in interest at that. “Now, if you would feel confident empowering me to negotiate on your behalf, I’m fairly certain we would be granted passage off-world with, at worst, some theatrical, symbolic, groveling gestures and an exchange of funds.”

Din didn’t have to see Boba’s face to know that he was thinking along the same lines he was. “Very well. Give me your tablet; I will write out my statement and what I’m willing to pay.”

As the daimyo wrote and the majordomo continued his rambling, Din muttered, “Let’s hope the Pykes are as patient as we are; they might shoot him the moment he begins speaking.”

(Y/N) bit her lip to keep from chuckling and when the majordomo hurried out onto the street, she glanced over at Din and Boba with a smile. “Looks like we’re going with the second choice. We’ll go to the roof and I’ll cover you while you use your jetpacks to fly down; along with the Twi’lek’s distraction, that should be enough to take them by surprise.”

Boba nodded in approval. “Very well, Captain. Let’s go.” They hurried up the stairs and quietly crept onto the roof, pausing for a moment to watch the negotiation down below as they checked their weapons; the daimyo ignited his jetpack and spared them a final look. “I’ll go first.”

“I’ll cover your flank,” Din replied and Boba launched into the sky, the sounds of blaster fire and yells filling the air moments later.

Before igniting his own jetpack, Din lifted the bottom of his helmet and gave (Y/N) a frantic but firm kiss, pulling away and launching himself upwards before either of them could say anything. He flew out from the side of the cantina, shooting Pyke after Pyke alongside Boba as they slowly descended from the sky. They stood back to back, firing their weapons at anything that moved and blocking any return fire with their beskar armor; above them, (Y/N) utilized her sharpshooter skills to take out the rooftop gunners surrounding them and together, the three of them made for a deadly trio.

However, the surprise of their attack quickly wore off and the Pyke soldiers began firing back at an unrelenting pace. Boba was knocked to the ground by a blaster bolt and forced to use his knee rocket and in his peripheral vision, Din saw (Y/N) sprint across the cantina’s rooftop in search of better cover. Worry for his partner meant that the Pykes were able to land several shots in quick succession and although the blaster bolts ricocheted off his beskar armor, they were powerful enough to knock him down into the sand. He was vaguely aware of Boba covering him and (Y/N)’s rapid shots flying above them, and he instantly activated his whistling birds when he maneuvered onto his knee; the attack gave him enough time to clamber to his feet and as one of Boba’s rockets exploded against a nearby building, he barked out, “They just keep coming!”

They both took on more blaster fire that sent them sprawling onto the sand and over the continuous ringing, Din thought he heard the captain crying out in pain. Before he could even attempt to stand and attack, a nearby Pyke was gunned down by an unseen shooter; he and Boba looked over just in time to see an armored land speeder turn onto the street, manned by the familiar citizens of Freetown.

“The people of Freetown…”

Boba’s awed reaction made Din huff out a small laugh. “Told you they’d show.”

They clambered to their feet and ducked behind the land speeder as it stopped in front of the cantina; the people of Freetown joined them and began firing on the Pykes, who were soon forced to find cover. Din glanced over at the Weequay bartender beside him and felt a fresh surge of guilt. “I’m sorry about the Marshal.”

The Weequay’s eyes were tight with grief as he replied, “They gunned him down in cold blood.”

They both looked as (Y/N) emerged from the cantina and took up position beside Din. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“Yes, we did. This planet deserves better.”

(Y/N) met the Weequay’s eyes and gave him a firm nod. Down the deserted street to their left, the familiar speeder bikes of the Mods raced towards them and drew the blaster fire away from the land speeder and while they dismounted and took cover, Krrsanthan limped out from a nearby side-street and began fighting his way towards them; a Pyke situated on a rooftop shot the Wookie’s leg and he fell onto the sand, and Boba instantly met Din’s gaze. “Cover me!”

He and Din sprinted out into the line of fire and while Boba helped Krrsanthan to his feet, Din fired his blaster at every Pyke he could see. Once the Wookie was safe behind the land speeder, he turned and hurried back to his spot beside (Y/N), who breathed a small sigh of relief and continued firing; Din raised his blaster to assist, but he was distracted by the sight of blood on the side of her face and his heart jolted in fear. “Dank farrik, you’re bleeding!”

“A kriffing Pyke grazed my ear!” The captain answered and with a second glance, Din could see that the wound looked far worse than it actually was. “It’s fine but it hurts like hell!”

“They’re falling back!”

The Weequay’s shout drew their attention to the street before them and their forces cheered as the Pykes retreated, but the look on (Y/N)’s face reflected Din’s own doubt; they both knew that the Pyke Syndicate wouldn’t give up so easily. With a feel of foreboding in the pit of his stomach, Din reached up and activated his helmet’s heat sensors, his jaw clenching at the sight of the two Scorpenek droids turning onto the street before them. “I wouldn’t celebrate yet.” He glanced over at Boba. “We got problems.” The Scorpenek droids shook the ground with each step they took and Din felt his hands begin to sweat inside his gloves at the sight of the towering battle droids. “We got real problems…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Miracle

“Son of a mud-scuffer…” (Y/N) breathed to herself, watching as the two Scorpenek droids lumbered down the deserted street towards their small garrison and activated their blue deflector shields; she didn’t tear her eyes away from the battle droids as she murmured to Din, “You ever fight one of these things before?”

“No, have you?”

“Nope, but I’ve heard that these things are supposed to be indestructible.”

She could hear Din’s sigh through his helmet’s modulation. “I guess now’s when we find out if that’s true or not.”

Their small band of fighters began firing on the two Scorpenek droids but each and every blaster bolt absorbed into their shields. On the other side of her partner, Boba launched his jetpack’s missile and it immediately exploded when it landed on the first battle droid, sending a giant fireball into the sky and a strong gust of wind outwards. They waited with bated breaths as the smoke and sand slowly cleared, but their hope vanished when the undamaged Scorpenek came into focus and immediately began firing at their makeshift barricade; the land speeder shook with each powerful blast from both battle droids and their fighters were forced to shrink back, unable to return fire as they closed in.

“Run! We’ll distract them!” Boba’s command rang out over the blaster fire and their fighters – the young Mods, the people of Freetown and Krrsantan – fell back, running as quickly as they could down one of the side-streets while the three of them shot at the two battle droids.

Caught between the intense crossfire, the land speeder before them shuddered and began to smoke; Din wrapped his free arm around her waist and turned them both around just as the speeder exploded, the ball of fire illuminating the street and warming (Y/N)’s skin. He exchanged a glance with the daimyo beside them and ignited his jetpack, and (Y/N) quickly flung an arm around his shoulders moments before they were launched upwards. Boba landed in front of the Scorpenek droid that had begun attacking their fleeing fighters and worked on distracting it while Din and (Y/N) landed behind it; he let her go, aiming his vambrace’s flamethrower at the battle droid’s shield as she continuously fired her blaster, but they were forced to stop their efforts and fly out of the line of fire when the second droid turned towards them.

They landed on the ground beside Boba and while she focused on shooting at the Scorpenek’s shield, she called out, “Din, the Darksaber! Use the Darksaber!”

Din holstered his blaster and un-clipped the blade from his utility belt, igniting it and drawing his arm back to strike at the shield. The blade bounced off the shield and sent him stumbling backwards; he struck again and again but still, the illuminated Darksaber failed to cut through the deflector shield and he turned to them with frustration evident in his voice. “I can’t get through-”

The battle droid began to aim its guns at them and (Y/N) latched onto Din’s arm to yank him out of the line of fire as he clipped the hilt back onto his belt. “These two will destroy the whole city!”

“Our energy weapons can’t get through and our kinetic weapons have too much velocity!”

Instead of answering, Boba shoved them both aside as the battle droid fired off another blast directly where they’d been standing. “Can you two protect the others?”

“We can distract them for a spell. Why?”

“Watch out!” They were forced to roll out of the way and when they got to their feet, Boba turned to them. “We need reinforcements!”

(Y/N) blinked in confusion as Din’s helmeted head tilted to the side. “From where? You’ve run out of friends.”

“Protect the others!”

They both watched as Boba ignited his jetpack and flew off, and (Y/N) gritted her teeth in frustration at the daimyo’s lack of answer. His abrupt departure drew both Scorepenek’s fire and Din’s free hand latched onto hers. “We’ve gotta draw their attention away from the others and buy him some time, c’mon!”

“Would be nice if he told us what he was planning!”

(Y/N) and Din ran down the street, firing their blasters at the battle droids as they went; the nearest one turned towards them and they sped up, but the shot it fired at them knocked them both off their feet. The air was knocked from her lungs when she landed hard on her back, and she was only vaguely aware of Din pulling her up and ushering her behind the smoldering remains of the land speeder. “Alor’ad, you okay?”

With a ragged breath, she nodded and peered around the ruined speeder; both battle droids had turned away from them and were in pursuit of their fighters, obviously more enticed by a large group than just the two of them. “Dank farrik. I don’t think we’re enough of a threat to keep them both interested.”

“Then how about just one?” Din offered and waited for her to look at him before continuing. “The others stand a better chance against a single Scorepenek than two and once we figure out how to destroy ours, we’ll circle back and help them with theirs.”

(Y/N) bit her lip as she considered his suggestion, finally giving him a nod and a weary smile. “Why the hell not? After all, you and I have done far more idiotic things than purposefully antagonizing a Scorepenek droid.”

The Mandalorian chuckled at her words and the two of them stepped out from behind the speeder; they exchanged a brief look before raising their blasters and firing at the nearest battle droid. They blasted its shield until it started to turn around and then they took off down the street, running as quickly as they could while the battle droid followed close behind. “That got its attention!”

“Yeah, but now we need to find a way to destroy it,” (Y/N) called out, rounding a corner and firing off several shots at the pursuing Scorpenek without stopping. “If I could just get back to the palace, I could fly the starfighter here to Mos Espa and shoot them both down!”

“You’d have to fight your way through the Pykes surrounding the city and even then, you won’t get back in time to stop them from destroying most of the city!” Her partner sprinted alongside her and managed to fire off several shots as they dodged abandoned vendor stalls and cargo crates. “We could try forcing it to lower the shield!”

“I somehow don’t think that us shooting at it will help!”

As the battle droid’s shots neared them, they veered off to the side and ducked behind a stack of crates, Din wrapping himself around her and shielding her just as a nearby moisture vaporator exploded. Once the fire and bits of shrapnel dissipated, they continued running from the battle droid and skidded around another corner. Up ahead, a rickshaw appeared from a side-street and rolled to a stop before them, revealing Peli Motto and several of her shop droids seated inside. “Mando, (Y/N), ha! We found you! I got a surprise for you two-”

“Turn around!”

“What?”

“Turn around!” They both shouted and turned to fire their blasters at the Scorpenek while it slowly rounded the corner; finally realizing the danger she was in, Peli screamed at the rickshaw droid to turn back around and speed down the street. The battle droid began to aim its guns at them, forcing them to turn and sprint after the mechanic’s fleeing rickshaw. “(Y/N), jump!”

(Y/N) leapt onto the back of the rickshaw and held on tight while Din followed, and they both fired their blasters at the battle droid’s shield as they whipped around the corner and down another street. “Peli, can this thing go any faster?”

Instead of answering, Peli reached for a spare wrench and chucked it at the rickshaw droid’s head. “Go faster, you bucket of bolts!”

The droid sped up and the increased speed knocked Din against (Y/N)’s side, forcing her to wrap her free arm around the rickshaw’s canopy pole to keep from falling off; since both of his hands were occupied, Din hastily widened his stance and used his leg to help stabilize her on the slim platform. “Thank you, Peli!”

“Always so polite, even in a kriffing war zone!” Peli shouted over the sound of their blasters firing. “Hey, you guys, look who’s here!”

(Y/N) briefly tore her eyes away from the pursuing battle droid, only to do a shocked double-take and nearly lose her grip on the rickshaw when the mechanic lifted a blanket off the seat beside her to reveal Grogu; his large eyes glimmered with unabashed happiness and he cooed in delight when Din looked down and gasped, “What?” He hastily holstered his blaster and gripped the back of the rickshaw tight as he leaned down to get a better look, and (Y/N) beamed in joy at the sight of the child she’d missed with all her heart. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Grogu giggled and jumped straight into their arms, one clawed hand clutching Din’s cowl while the other held tight to (Y/N)’s vest. “Oh!” She exclaimed, surprised by the child’s newfound swiftness and agility, and her eyes began to well with tears. “Okay, little guy. We’re happy to see you too.”

“We didn’t know when we’d see you again…” Din’s voice was thick with emotion and his gloved hand shook as he gently patted Grogu’s back; the child let out a quiet coo and rested a hand against the Mandalorian’s beskar helmet, and (Y/N) leaned down to press a kiss onto his wrinkled forehead. “It’s okay. Yeah, we…we missed you too, buddy.” While she caressed one of Grogu’s large ears, Din’s helmeted head leaned against hers and for one brief moment, their clan of three was complete. The peaceful moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of approaching blaster fire and Din glanced over his shoulder in concern. “But, um…we’re in a bit of a bind here right now.”

(Y/N) nodded, taking Grogu from Din and setting him back down in the seat beside Peli. “You be careful, okay? You keep your head down and stay hidden until the fight’s over.” When she instinctively adjusted the collar of his robe, a glint of silver caught her eye and she moved the collar down to reveal the beskar chainmail they’d both designed and commissioned for him. “Hey, that’s the shirt…” Her smile widened as the child cooed up at her. “You got the shirt.” Glancing up, her eyes met Din’s visor and she could tell without seeing his face that his smile was just as bright as hers.

The rickshaw shuddered as the battle droid’s shots grew closer and Peli cried out, “Save your tender moment, we’ve got a Scorpenek droid chasing us!”

All three of them began blasting the battle droid, the red bolts of energy flying through the smoke-filled air only to be absorbed by its shield; while (Y/N) focused on trying to locate a weak spot in the shield, Din’s attention was split between the Scorpenek and the wide-eyed child seated inside the rickshaw. “What is he doing here?”

“The Force works in mysterious ways!”

“That’s not an answer, Peli!”

Before the mechanic had a chance to elaborate, the droid pulling their rickshaw broke down and toppled to the ground, flipping the entire rickshaw over and sending them all flying into the air; (Y/N) spotted Grogu nearby and caught him, holding him tight against her chest as Dim’s familiar arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against his strong chest. The Mandalorian ignited his jetpack and used its momentum to flip onto his back right before landing on the sand-covered street and sliding several feet. He groaned a little at the impact and she scrambled to get off of him, holding Grogu in one arm and using the other to help him stand. He fired off a couple of shots at the Scorpenek’s shield alongside a rattled Peli, but a deep roar echoing through the abandoned streets stopped all three of them dead in their tracks.

The battle droid’s guns aimed themselves towards the sky and they hurried into an empty doorway for shelter. Before (Y/N) could voice her concerns, the tremors of heavy footsteps grew more powerful and across the street, two giant clawed hands latched onto the building’s rooftop and a massive creature pulled itself up into view; it was all scales and fangs and the stench of rotting flesh, and (Y/N) knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was a rancor even before she spotted Boba Fett sitting astride it. It was such an impressive sight, the fearsome bounty hunter turned crime lord riding a monstrous rancor into battle, that all she could think to say was, “Told you so.”

Din heaved out a tired chuckle beside her. “That you did, alor’ad.”

They watched in awe as the Scorpenek began firing at it and it simply jumped down onto the street, slamming its curled fists against the battle droid’s shield. The Scorpenek was knocked off its legs and when it righted itself, the shield surrounding it morphed so that its blue energy covered its front while the back half turned a vivid red. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as an idea began to form in her mind. “The deflector shield. It shifted the energy to protect its front.”

Din, immediately understanding the implication of the battle droid’s action, holstered his blaster and paused to pat Grogu on the head. “Stay here with (Y/N).”

“Be careful.” He gave her a nod and un-clipped the Darksaber from his utility belt, igniting it before running towards the vicious fighting. Tightening her hold on Grogu, she watched her partner strike the weakened shield once and force his way inside it; he ignited his jetpack and landed on top of the battle droid, slicing one of its guns off just as it managed to graze the rancor’s side. He raised the blade high over his head and brought it down, slicing through its top as if it were butter and finally bringing down its deflector shield. Her relief was short-lived, however, as the battle droid reared back and sent Din flying; he landed hard on the ground and the Darksaber rolled out of his grasp, leaving him stunned and defenseless as the battle droid turned towards him. “No!”

(Y/N) set Grogu down and ran into the street, bending down to retrieve the Darksaber just as one of the Scorpenek’s legs came down onto Din’s armored thigh; her partner cried out in pain and without a second thought, she ignited the Darksaber and charged at the battle droid, swinging the heavy blade and managing to chop off a portion of its leg before being forced back by another. She stood in front of Din, holding the illuminated blade the same way he’d held it during his brief training with the Armorer and ignoring Peli’s shouts for her to run, but before the Scorpenek could strike at her again, its front half began to slowly rise into the air seemingly against its will. A bolt connecting part of its leg broke free and flew through the air, nearly clipping her shoulder as it went; she turned to see Grogu seated at Peli’s feet, the bolt clutched tight in his clawed hands, and she realized that he’d used the Force to save both her and Din’s lives.

“(Y/N)! C’mon, we’ve gotta move!” A gloved hand wrapped around her wrist and she looked over as the Mandalorian began tugging her away from the malfunctioning battle droid; she sheathed the Darksaber and wrapped an arm around his waist for support him while he limped them further down the street. “The Darksaber suits you.”

(Y/N) spared Din a brief glance and arched a brow at him. “What, no stern lecture about me putting myself in danger to save-?”

“That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.” The blunt matter-of-factness of Din’s voice made her face instantly begin to warm, but he was far from finished. “You covered in blood and wielding an ancient Mandalorian weapon…was like something out of a dream…”

“That fall must’ve knocked your head around underneath that helmet,” (Y/N) replied, but she couldn’t fight the smile growing on her face at Din’s glowing praise.

“You two are insane!” Peli exclaimed when they reached her, tutting with disapproval as Din took Grogu into his arms and (Y/N) clipped the Darksaber’s hilt back onto his belt for him. “If it wasn’t for the little guy there, you’d both be grease spots on a Mos Espa street right now!”

Din examined the cooing child for any injuries and sighed when he found none. “You’re okay. Thank you, buddy, you really helped us out.”

A deafening roar washed over the entire street and they looked up in time to watch the rancor seize the Scorpenek and tear the battle droid in half; Din shielded both (Y/N) and Grogu from the pieces of metal that rained down onto the street and while she peeked over his shoulder, she spied Boba guiding the rancor back onto the rooftops and towards the distant sound of blaster fire. “Are you okay to keep fighting, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, are you?” She drew her blaster and nodded. “Good. Let’s finish this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three of them sprinted down the streets of Mos Espa, the sounds of a Scorpenek’s blaster fire and a rancor’s infuriated roars guiding them to where the rest of the fighting was taking place; Grogu rested comfortably in the crook of Din’s free arm, giggling at the way the Mandalorian’s running bounced him up and down. I don’t even care why the little guy’s here, just so long as he’s here to stay, (Y/N) thought with a smile, her heart warming as she glanced over at Din and saw that he was already looking at her.

They skidded around another corner before finally stumbling upon all the action; Boba’s rancor was in the midst of tearing the second Scorpenek into pieces and the Mods and the people of Freetown were holed up in the crumbling remains of a small building, firing their blasters at the small legion of Pyke foot soldiers that were fleeing down the street. “Keep ‘em on their heels!” Din shouted to their fighters. “They’re on the run!”

A cheer rose up from the group of fighters and they took off down the street after the Pykes. (Y/N), Din and Peli followed after them, dodging pieces of the battle droid and the rancor’s swinging arms as they went. A sudden chill went up (Y/N)’s spine and when she slowed down to survey their surroundings, she spotted the familiar silhouette of Cad Bane striding down the distant end of the street towards Boba’s rancor. Her hands began to sweat and her chest constricted as the words the notorious bounty hunter had uttered to her all those years ago played in her mind…

“It wasn’t anything personal, Captain, only business.” Cad Bane stepped around the one of the dead bodies that littered the ground and (Y/N)’s body shook with rage, silently grieving the failure of her mission as she waited for the Duros to gun her down next. “And since that business doesn’t involve you, I’ll let you live.” He bared his pointed teeth, obviously amused by her pain. “From one mercenary to another, look out for yourself. Anything else is a sign of weakness.”

Biting her lip to keep it from trembling, (Y/N) crouched behind a stack of cargo crates and propped her blaster up on its edge, taking careful aim at the Duros in the distance; she was far enough away that he’d never see the blaster bolt coming until it was too late, and then she’d finally have her revenge on just one of the many people who’d contributed to her past trauma. Her grip tightened on the blaster’s hilt and her finger twitched against the trigger, but something within gave her pause and before she could determine what it was, Bane ignited his vambrace’s flamethrower and aimed it directly at the rancor’s face.

“Dank farrik…” (Y/N) breathed, her previous task forgotten as she watched the rampaging rancor throw Boba off its back and hoist itself up onto the rooftops with an ear-splitting roar. “Oh, shit.”

Giving the two bounty hunters one last look and sending a silent prayer to the Maker that Boba would be the one to finally defeat Bane, (Y/N) turned and sprinted down the winding side-streets after the enraged creature. She skidded around a corner and nearly smacked into Din, but he holstered his blaster in time to catch her. “(Y/N), what’s wrong? What happened?”

Just as a panting (Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, the rancor appeared on the nearby rooftop, smashed its clawed hand through a tower and threw a land speeder at the fighters that had begun shooting at it. It roared in pain and began to climb another tower as they ran over to the fighters. “You’re scaring it!” Din shouted over the rancor’s deep roars and the sound of blaster fire. “Put your blasters down! Stop shooting!”

“It’ll destroy the whole city if we don’t stop it!” (Y/N) yelled, tearing her eyes away from the distressed creature above to look over at Din; she’d been reading the Mandalorian’s body language long enough to know exactly what was going through his mind, and she felt her heart drop in dread. “Din, no…”

“Keep him safe.” Din placed Grogu into her open arm and reached into the pouch at his waist, offering the child the silver sphere he’d once loved to play with. “Here, hang on to this.” The child let out a worried coo and Din’s visor met her gaze; he rested his forehead against hers in a brief Keldabe Kiss and whispered, “It’s gonna be okay, alor’ad.”

(Y/N) pressed her lips against the portion of the helmet that covered his mouth and watched with an anxious frown as Din turned and launched into the sky above; he flew around the rancor’s flailing arm and took a hold of its bridle, swinging himself up onto the leather saddle and tugging on the chain to get it under control. Unfortunately, the action only antagonized the rancor more and it grabbed Din around the middle, throwing him down onto a neighboring rooftop and slamming its curled fists down onto him.

A sharp gasp tore out of her throat and she watched with widened eyes as the rancor withdrew Din from the roof’s wreckage and brought him up to its level. In her arms, Grogu squirmed and cried out and beside her, even Peli and the Twi’lek majordomo looked a little nervous. “Don’t worry, kid. Your old man’s crafty!” The rancor bit Din’s helmet and (Y/N) was quick to cover the child’s eyes with her free hand before it went in for another bite. “Ooh, spoke too soon.”

Thank the Maker, the beskar helmet held up in the powerful jaws of the rancor and Din was able to engage his vambrace’s flamethrower, aiming it at the creature’s open maw; (Y/N) hoped that it would loosen its grip on Din and he’d be able to break free but to her dismay, it drew its arm back and threw Din into the side of a nearby building; he crashed through the stone wall and landed hard on the sand-covered street, sliding back several feet where he laid unnaturally still. Not wasting a single moment, (Y/N) unceremoniously shoved Grogu into Peli’s empty arms and sprinted down the street to him, falling to her knees beside him and shaking his shoulders. “Din! C’mon, Din, wake up!” His helmeted head lolled to the side with each shake and he remained motionless, and (Y/N)’s eyes stung with panicked tears. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart, please don’t do this…” She looped her arms underneath his and attempted to pull him to safety, but couldn’t because of the weight of his armor; her head whipped around at the sound of the rancor’s roar and her eyes widened in terror when she spotted Grogu standing between them and the snarling creature. “Grogu!”

The child ignored her and before she could do anything to stop him, Din began to stir in her arms. “A-Alor’ad…?”

“I’m here, sweetheart, I-I’m right here. Are you okay?” Din nodded and she swallowed her relieved sob as she helped him sit up; they both froze in shock when they looked over at the rancor and saw Grogu using his powers to lower the creature down onto the ground, its eyes drifting closed and its breaths coming out in steady puffs. The child waddled up to the sleeping rancor and gently patted its snout before laying down beside it and falling asleep himself, obviously spent from all the Force-wielding he’d done that day. “…Ahsoka wasn’t lying when she said he was doing fine with his studies.”

Beside her, Din huffed out a tired chuckle. “He’s a special kid, all right.”

(Y/N) turned back to face the Mandalorian and her eyes looked him over for any visible injuries. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, just a little sore; luckily, the armor took the brunt of the impact.” Without warning, (Y/N) drew her arm back and punched the unarmored section of his arm. “Ow! What the kriff was that for?!”

“I warned you back on Glavis that I’d kick your beskar-covered ass if you ever put me through that kind of worry again, but I’m letting you off easy with a punch.” She retorted and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his cowl as his arms wound around her waist to pull her closer. “You scared the hell out of me, Din. I-I thought…for a moment there, I really thought I’d lost you…”

“So did I,” He confessed, his modulated voice so quiet that (Y/N) momentarily thought she’d imagined it. “When that rancor grabbed me, all I could think about was you and the kid.” Pulling back far enough to see her face, Din rested a gloved hand against her cheek and wiped a wayward tear away with his thumb. “I wasted so much time doubting myself and waiting for the perfect moment that I almost missed my chance entirely, and looking at you now after all we’ve gone through…I just can’t wait any longer.” He held both of her hands in his and his voice trembled slightly as he continued. “I love you so much, alor’ad, and there’s nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life by your side. Will you marry me, (Y/N)? Will you give me the honor of being your husband?”

A bright smile spread across (Y/N)’s face as she listened to Din’s speech and as he anxiously waited for her answer, she looked directly into the visor of his helmet and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!” A cross between a laugh and an exhale of relief emanated from her partner and he surged forward, his arms wrapping her in a tight embrace and his forehead resting against hers; it was just a Keldabe Kiss, a gesture they’d done countless times over the course of their relationship, but somehow it felt more intimate and romantic than all the others combined. “I love you, Din Djarin, with everything I am and more.”

The Mandalorian, overcome with emotion and at a loss for words, tightened his hold on her and didn’t let go until someone cleared their throat nearby; they both looked up to see Peli holding a napping Grogu in her arms, a smug smile plastered on her face while she watched them clamber to their feet. “You two are weirdos with a danger magnet, but even ol’ Peli’s gotta admit that you’re cute. Not as cute as this little guy, though.”

“Poor kid. Saving our asses twice must’ve taken a lot out of him,” Din chuckled a little as he took Grogu into his arms and cradled him in the crook of his arm; Peli and the cowering majordomo wandered over to examine the sleeping rancor alongside their fighters and the citizens of Mos Espa and Din quietly asked, “How is he even here right now? Skywalker was so insistent on Grogu’s training before, but now…?”

(Y/N) kissed the top of the child’s wrinkled head and smiled. “I don’t think we’re meant to question it.”

“Come in, Captain.” Boba’s voice emanated from her comm link and she turned her attention away from the sleeping child to retrieve it. “Fennec just radioed in; the Pyke’s central command and the heads of Mos Espa’s families are no more. We won the city.”

“Copy that.” She breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the fighting was over and their mission had been a success. “Everyone’s okay here. You’re rancor’s taking a little nap right now, but we’ll need to make arrangements to transport it back to the palace. Is Cad Bane…?”

“Cad Bane will never again hurt another person in the galaxy.”

A gloved hand moved to rest on the small of her back as the heaviness weighing on her chest lifted. “Good. That’s good.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she glanced back over at the unconscious creature in the middle of the road and grinned in amusement. “So, got any bright ideas on how to move a sleeping rancor?”

The daimyo chuckled. “I may have one in mind. You two stay put, I’ll be there momentarily.”

“Will-do,” (Y/N) replied, tucking the comm link back into her belt and leaning her head against Din’s pauldron, the adrenaline beginning to fade away as exhaustion started to settle within her. “What are we gonna do now, sweetheart?”

“Take a long and well-earned vacation.” She burst into laughter at Din’s tired reply and smiled up at him when his arm moved to fully wrap around her waist and his helmeted head rested against hers. “And I think I know the perfect place for it…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty
The Riduurok

Filled with an inexplicable nervousness that only seemed to grow stronger by the minute, Din continued to pace back and forth along the villa’s opulent veranda and tried to comprehend the meaning behind his mounting anxiety. He’d been romantically involved with (Y/N) for a long time and deep down, he understood that marriage wouldn’t drastically change the way either of them felt about one another; despite all that, Din’s stomach was filled with butterflies and his hands were beginning to sweat underneath his gloves at the thought of the captain becoming his riduur.

Din, desperate for a distraction while he waited for (Y/N) to emerge from the villa, turned his thoughts to the Battle for Mos Espa and the weeks that followed. Immediately following the assassination of their leader by Fennec Shand, the remnants of the Pyke Syndicate fled Tatooine and with the deaths of their heads, the five families of Mos Espa finally recognized Boba Fett as their Daimyo and agreed to follow his rule; the deceased Mok Shaiz’s majordomo was instated as the mayor of Mos Espa, a temporary appointment until a proper election could be organized, and the lengthy process of rebuilding the city was started almost immediately after they’d defeated the Pykes. Peli decided to stay in Mos Espa for a few days, relentlessly teasing them about their impending nuptials and flirting non-stop with the majordomo, and Cobb Vanth, who was incorrectly presumed dead by Cad Bane and the people of Freetown, spent all his time in Boba’s bacta tank healing his near-fatal blaster wound. (Y/N) and Din agreed to stay and assist the citizens before traveling to Naboo for their well-earned rest and long-awaited wedding; they cleared away rubble, rewired several damaged buildings and helped lay down foundations for a handful of new structures, working diligently alongside the citizens of Mos Espa while also keeping an eye on the rambunctious child who had found his way back into their lives.

(Y/N) suspected that Luke Skywalker had given Grogu a choice: either stay with him as his first Padawan and learn the ways of the Jedi, or leave and go back to being Din’s Mandalorian foundling. The thought of Grogu missing them to the extent of foregoing his Jedi studies to live with them warmed Din’s heart and while he was beyond happy that they’d been reunited with the child, he couldn’t help but feel a little angered that the Jedi had essentially forced him to choose between both paths; his partner was equally outraged that he’d sent the child halfway across the galaxy alone in an X-Wing, save for his R2 unit, and Din knew that the grudge she held against him for nearly putting Grogu in danger wouldn’t be so easily forgotten.

A cheerful coo pulled Din out of his thoughts and looking down, he spotted Grogu standing by the stone steps that led down to the villa’s dock. “Don’t go down there, kid, you’ll dirty up the new robe (Y/N) sewed for you.” The child relented and pulled out his silver sphere, giving it a small shake as his head tilted to the side. “Sure, we can play catch,” Din chuckled, watching as the child sent the ball flying through the air using the Force and catching it easily before gently tossing it back. “You haven’t seen (Y/N)’s wedding dress yet either, huh? She’s keeping it a secret, claims that it’s a Naboo tradition but between you and me, I think she likes torturing me…”

While Din and (Y/N) helped rebuild Mos Espa, they also began planning their wedding. He’d explained to her that Mandalorian weddings only comprised of an exchange of vows between the bride and groom and that they could be married in a matter of minutes, but she was all for waiting until they could journey to Naboo; going a step further, she suggested that they incorporate some of their home planet’s traditions into their Mandalorian wedding and Din readily agreed, touched by her consideration and thoughtfulness. On Aq Ventina, couples exchanged rings to signify their bonds to one another, so Din had spent his free time forging a set of rings for them while (Y/N) worked on sewing her wedding dress; since they refused payment for their assistance in the Battle for Mos Espa, Boba insisted that (Y/N) utilize the palace’s textile equipment and the chamber filled to the brim with luxurious fabrics. The seamstress-turned-captain was fully in her element, spending hours measuring, cutting and stitching material with a content smile on her face, and Din was happy that she once again had an opportunity to dabble in one of her passions. She really does like to torture me, he thought with a grin as he recalled how she shooed him away from the garment bag she’d carefully packed into the starfighter, but it’s a form of torture I’d gladly accept.

“You’ve still got the rings I gave you to hold on to?” Din asked after catching the Force-thrown ball and watched Grogu pulled the two silver rings out of his robe’s pocket with a triumphant squeal. “Thanks, buddy. Keep ‘em in your pocket until it’s time, okay? I don’t wanna ruin the surprise for her.”

Din continued to play catch with Grogu and when the child grew bored with their game, he moved to lean against the veranda’s stone balustrade and admired the stunning scenery of Naboo’s Lake Country. The elegant villa they’d rented was located on a small island surrounded by crystal-clear water and encased by towering mountains covered in shades of green; according to the travel agency, the villa had once been owned by Naboo nobility before the Empire and hadn’t been lived in until after the establishment of the New Republic, but Din could scarcely wonder why such a beautiful place had been abandoned for so long. Tendrils of ivy crept up the outside walls of the villa and nearly everywhere he looked, he saw flourishing flowers of every shape and color; that meadow we first kissed in was only half as beautiful as this place, he thought with a small smile, closing his eyes and taking in the sweet floral scents surrounding him.

“Din? Din, are you out here?”

Fighting the urge to turn around and look, Din called back, “I’m out on the veranda with the kid. Do I get to look yet?”

“Nope!”

“That’s not fair, how come you get to see me as soon as you come out here but I have to wait to see you?”

“Because it’s a tradition here on Naboo for the bride to see the groom first. If you really want me to, I could always blindfold myself and run the risk of tumbling over the balustrade and falling into the lake.” He bit his lip to keep from chuckling at her sarcastic retort. “I know that you’re laughing underneath that helmet, mir’sheb.”

“Hey, that’s not a nice thing to accuse your future husband of, alor’ad.”

“Yeah, and neither is laughing at the thought of your future wife falling into a lake.” Din felt his face warm and his heartbeat quicken when she called herself his future wife. With his Creed and his danger-filled lifestyle, he’d grown to accept that marriage simply wasn’t in the cards for him but that all changed when (Y/N) came into his life; the thought of pledging himself to the woman he’d fallen hopelessly in love with grew more appealing with each day, and he still couldn’t quite believe that she wanted to solidify the bond they shared just as badly as he did. His gloved hands gripped the stone balustrade before him as the captain’s footsteps neared, coming to a stop several feet behind him with a small intake of breath. “You’re so handsome, sweetheart.”

(Y/N)’s voice was quiet and full of reverence, but her words made his brow furrow beneath his helmet; he was dressed in his freshly-polished beskar armor as per Mandalorian tradition, but it wasn’t anything different from how he normally looked. “How can you say that when you can’t see me?”

“I don’t need to see underneath that helmet to know that you’re handsome, Din. Even if I’d never had the honor of seeing your face, I would still think that you’re the most handsome man I’d ever met.”

“Stars above, alor’ad,” Din groaned in frustration as his grip tightened on the balustrade. “I-I want…kriff, I need to see you. Please tell me I can turn around now?”

He could hear her smooth out the fabric of her dress and detect a hint of nervousness in her voice as she softly replied, “You can turn around now.”

Faster than he’d ever thought possible, Din spun around to face his future wife and when his eyes found her, his breath caught in his throat and his mouth fell open in stunned surprise. The gown she’d spent weeks constructing was fairly understated for Naboo fashion – the glowing-white fabric covered in small stitched-on flowers and butterflies, the sheer sleeves billowing loose around her elbows, the neckline dipping down to reveal the barest hints of her chest, the bodice synched at her natural waist and the long skirt just barely touching the ground – but it looked nothing less than ethereal to him. Her hair was fixed in the intricate style that he secretly loved on her and instead of jewelry or a veil, she wore a crown of woven white and pale pink blooms. In all the time they’d known one another, she’d never worn makeup and while he stood admiring the blushing pink color of her lips and the subtle glitter surrounding her (Y/E/C) eyes, he couldn’t help but be grateful for that because he knew he’d never have gotten anything done if she had.

Din’s lips curved into an awestruck smile and he took a hesitant step forward. “When I was a child, my mother used to tell me bedtime stories about angels. I always thought that they were just myths but as I stand before you now, I know for sure that they’re real.” The captain’s face broke out into a breathtaking grin as she bashfully ducked her head, and he moved closer to take her hands in his. “You’re beautiful, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Her thumbs slowly caressed the leather covering his knuckles. “And the dress?”

“Absolutely breathtaking.”

“Mmm, does that mean it was worth the wait?”

“Every kriffing minute.”

(Y/N) laughed and down by their feet, Grogu tapped his ball against Din’s shin guard to draw their attention, smiling when (Y/N) looked down and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, little guy, we didn’t forget about you. You look very dashing in your new robe!” With a happy coo, the child used the Force to leap into the air and she was forced to let go of Din’s hands in order to catch him. “And here I thought you were a handful before all your training…” She joked and while Grogu played with one of her dress’s stitched-on butterflies, she glanced up at Din with a smoldering annoyance in her eyes. “One of the many things I’ll have to thank Master Skywalker for someday.”

“You’ll have to get in line.” Her smile returned at his dry retort and widened when he rested his hand against the small of her back. “Are you ready, alor’ad?” His partner gave him a firm nod and he led her over to the balcony that overlooked the picturesque lake, taking Grogu from her arms and setting him down on the stone balustrade beside them before clasping her hands in his. “All right, I’ll recite each vow in Basic and Mando’a, then you’ll repeat them after me.” Din took a steadying breath and (Y/N)’s face brightened in nervous anticipation when he finally continued. “We are one when together. Mhi solus tome.”

“We are one when together. Mhi solus tome,” (Y/N) repeated, her voice steadfast and her Mando’a pronunciation flawless.

“We are one when parted. Mhi solus dar’tome.”

“We are one when parted. Mhi solus dar’tome.”

Din’s fingers tightened around hers. “We share all. Mhi me’dinui an.”

“We share all. Mhi me’dinui an.”

“We…We will raise warriors. Mhi ba’juri verde.”

Beneath his helmet, Din blushed at the not-so-unappealing thought of someday giving Grogu a sibling and the captain tried her hardest to suppress her embarrassed smile while she spoke. “We will raise warriors. Mhi ba’juri verde.”

According to Mandalorian tradition, that final vow would mark the moment they became husband and wife, but the ceremony that they’d meticulously planned wasn’t quite finished. (Y/N) gently removed his gloves and Din looked over at Grogu, nearly chuckling at the look on concentration on the child’s wrinkled face. “Okay, Grogu, just like we discussed earlier.” The set of silver rings Din spent so long forging floated through the air and the child squealed in triumph when they landed gracefully on (Y/N)’s open palm; his partner delicately held the ring intended for her in between her fingers, carefully examining the Mando’a engraving on its interior. “I’ve never been very skilled at forging, so they’re not exactly perfect-”

“They’re beautiful, Din.” (Y/N) beamed up at him, her eyes beginning to well with tears. “And the engraving…‘Ner kar’ta.’ That means ‘My heart,’ right?” He nodded and watched as she examined his ring. “There’s no engraving on yours. Tomorrow, could you please engrave something on it for me?”

“Of course. What is it?”

She didn’t even hesitate to answer his timid question. “Ner ka’ra. My stars.”

Din’s own eyes prickled with unshed tears and he mustered up another nod, watching with a smile stretching across his face as she took his left hand and slipped the ring onto his third finger; he gently took hold of her left hand and did the same, the pads of his fingers caressing her knuckles and the ring that signified their lifelong bond. With another steadying breath, he reached up, removed his helmet and set it carefully on the balustrade before clasping her hands in his and grinning. “Hi.”

“Hi.” They both simply stood and admired one another, beaming in happiness while they savored the intimate and perfect moment; (Y/N) was even more beautiful without his helmet’s tinted visor obstructing his vision and judging by the way her eyes roamed across his features, she was thinking something similar about him. “On Naboo, a wedding vow isn’t complete until it’s sealed with a kiss.”

“Now that’s a Naboo tradition I can get behind.” Din chuckled to himself while (Y/N) rolled her eyes in mild exasperation. With their hands still joined, they slowly leaned in and their eyes closed as their lips met in a sweet but passionate kiss; the captain’s lips were soft and gentle, her hands holding steadfast to his and the faint scent of the flowers she wore engulfing his senses, and he reverently kissed her back, swallowing her hums of approval and moving closer so that they were nearly touching one another. After what felt like an eternity to Din, they finally pulled away but stayed close, their foreheads touching and their smiles growing as they both looked into each other’s eyes and worked on catching their breath. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar'ika riduur.”

(Y/N), smiling peacefully up at him, brushed the tip of her nose against his and kissed the corner of his mouth. “And I love you too, my darling husband.”

A happy coo drew their attention to the balustrade, where Grogu was seated and clapping his clawed hands together as his wide eyes stared up at them; Din chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to his wife’s cheek before gathering the child up in his arms. “That’s right, buddy, now we really are a Clan of Three.” Aliit. A family. He silently marveled at the word, scarcely believing that after all they’d gone through, they were finally able to come together as the family that he’d always dreamed of but never believed he deserved. With Grogu nestled in the crook of his arm and (Y/N) leaning into his warm embrace, however, he knew that he couldn’t possibly be imagining such a perfect moment of peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dusk had begun to settle over the clear Naboo sky when they finally put Grogu to bed. After the ceremony, they’d shared a delicious dinner and the uj’alayi Peli made for them before their departure from Tatooine, then spent the early evening playing with the rambunctious child on the shore of the lake; his eyes eventually grew heavy and as quietly as they could, Din and (Y/N) took him to the nursery and activated the nurse droid they’d hired for the duration of their stay. Din was a little wary of leaving the child in the care of a droid, but his anxious nerves were soothed when (Y/N) reminded him that Grogu could defeat a rickety old nurse droid with barely a flick of his wrist. Once they tucked the sleeping child into his bassinet, they took a peaceful stroll along the villa’s spacious veranda and stopped to admire the stars twinkling in the night sky above.

“Those two constellations up there are Set and Veré,” (Y/N) softly remarked, leaning back against Din’s chest and pointing up at a cluster of stars. “According to an ancient Futhork myth, they were complete opposites – Set filled with darkness and chaos and Veré a living embodiment of peace and light – but one day, they fell deeply in love. They bound themselves to one another in every conceivable way and when they died, it’s said that their souls transformed into a constellation of stars so that they could spend eternity together.”

Din’s arms tightened around her middle and he began to pepper light kisses onto his wife’s perfectly-styled hair. “Sounds like a nice way to spend eternity.” He looked down at her, admiring how the moonlight illuminated her face and the way the stars reflected in her eyes. “How does it feel being back on your home planet?”

(Y/N) thought his question over for a moment. “Good, I think. Naboo holds a lot of painful memories for me and I’ve never really tried to work though those emotions…but being married here helps. Now I’ve got some of the happiest memories of my life to focus on instead.” Her hand carded through his curls and guided his head down so that she could kiss him; her lips tasted of the sweet uj’alayi they’d eaten and Din groaned in satisfaction as he returned her kiss, breaking away after several long moments to start trailing kisses along her jawline and down her neck. “So, do you…ah…do you really like this dress, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hmm. I kriffing love it, alor’ad.”

While he continued kissing her neck, he felt her smile against the stubble of his cheek before moving closer and whispering, “That's good, because I also sewed a matching nightgown.”

(Y/N)’s giggles filled the cool night air when Din hastily gathered her into his arms and nearly ran into the villa, only pausing in his mission to get them to the bedroom long enough to capture the captain’s smiling lips with his own in the first of many, many passionate kisses of the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-One
The Apostate

While the swirling lights of hyperspace surrounded the gunmetal-silver Naboo N-1 Starfighter, (Y/N) continued on with her stitching and hummed an old lullaby from her homeworld to herself, mindful of her two companions still fast asleep. One of the many similarities that Din and Grogu shared was their ability to sleep anywhere and everywhere, a skill that (Y/N) couldn’t help but envy them for; even during her days as a smuggler, she found it challenging to get any sort of decent sleep while traveling in hyperspace. I guess there’s one thing that bounty hunters do better than smugglers, she thought with a small wry smile.

Right on cue, her husband’s arms tightened around her waist and he let out a deep yawn as he shifted in his seat behind her. “G’mornin’, alor’ad. You get any sleep?” When she didn’t answer, he heaved a sigh and brought a gloved hand up to gently coax her into looking at him. “You’ve gotta try to start getting more sleep, (Y/N); you haven’t been sleeping much since we left Naboo and it’s beginning to worry me a little.”

“I know, sweetheart. I think I just got so used to living a quiet life that returning to all this was…I guess it was a little jarring.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the cockpit of the starfighter; as their blissful honeymoon on Naboo came to an end, Din confided in her that he wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of the Mandalorian covert who’d taken him in as an orphaned child and while she supported his decision, it was no secret that she didn’t believe he needed to be redeemed for anything. In her eyes, he was a Mandalorian through and through and nothing the Children of the Watch said could ever change that, but over time he felt differently. They searched for proof that Mandalore hadn’t been entirely destroyed during the Purge and once they found what they needed from a Jawa trader, they set out to locate Din’s covert and show the Armorer that his redemption was possible. Din knew how she felt about their new quest and conversely, she knew that he felt guilty for shattering the brief moment of peace they’d found on Naboo to achieve his redemption.

Setting down her stitching, (Y/N) turned her head as best she could and gave her husband a relenting smile. “When we leave your covert and start our journey to Nevarro, I promise I’ll get some sleep.” She reached up and lifted the edge of his beskar helmet far enough to press a soft kiss onto his lips, smiling as he relaxed in his seat and instantly kissed her back. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika riduur.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad,” Din murmured against her lips, giving her one final kiss before pulling his helmet back down over his face. “So, what’ve you been working on?”

“It’s a knapsack for Grogu. He’s got more robes than he’ll ever be able to wear, so I thought that a matching knapsack would be nice…just as long as he doesn’t start using it to store bugs and other little critters he wants to eat.” The starfighter dropped out of hyperspace before the innocuous-looking planet, and (Y/N) arched a skeptical brow. “This isn’t exactly the sort of planet I’d choose to grow a covert on; it’s mostly barren.”

“I suppose they’re just grateful to be anywhere that provides privacy.” The Mandalorian took the controls and piloted the starfighter down into the planet’s upper atmosphere; while they flew through the pale blue skies over the rocky terrain, Grogu began to stir in his domed compartment but before either of them could address the child, they were met with a concerning sight. “Um, I don’t think this planet’s as barren as you thought it was…”

In the distance, an enormous long-toothed reptilian was attacking a gathering of Mandalorians on the sandy lakeshore; the creature barely registered the blaster fire as it roared and charged at the fearless warriors, who refused to back down despite their obvious disadvantage. Stubbornness must go hand-in-hand with the Way, she thought with a sardonic smile, bracing herself as Din fired at the creature and spun the ship around for another pass. Din fired another shot, which connected with the creature’s hide in a fiery explosion and resulted in its lifeless corpse collapsing onto the shore of the large lake.

“Nice shot, sweetheart,” (Y/N) praised as he expertly landed the starfighter on an empty stretch of sand, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the chunks of smoking meat and bloody intestines littered the lakeshore and flicking the switch to open the windshield. “You think that’ll make them a little happier to see us?”

They both looked over at the Mandalorians gathered across the way and Din released a heavy sigh. “Only one way to find out.”

After hopping down from the starfighter and onto the sand, Din helped her descend from the cockpit and let Grogu out of his compartment in the back, and the three of them walked across the shore to where the Armorer stood; the other Mandalorians watched them pass by and some even murmured to one another, but none of them stopped them from standing before their de facto leader and (Y/N) refused to cower under the intense weight of their stares. “Din Djarin, Captain (Y/L/N).”

“My riduur and I humbly request an audience with you.” Din’s hand move to rest on the small of her back as he addressed the Armorer. “It pertains to our last interaction on Glavis.”

The Armorer silently studied them for a moment before giving them a curt nod and leading them to the entrance of a nearby cave. Beside (Y/N), Din breathed a small sigh of relief before leading the way and all around them, the Mandalorians began to disperse and clean up after their battle with the reptilian; (Y/N)’s eyes found the familiar helmet of Paz Vizsla, the Mandalorian she’d butted heads with during their short time on Glavis, and she stubbornly held his gaze until they stepped into the cave, wordlessly showing him that she was still not an aruetiise to be trifled with. Her husband’s gloved hand flexed but stayed in its usual place against the small of her back and the child trotted along behind them as they followed the Armorer through the network of tunnels.

They found her standing in her cavernous forge beneath a beskar Mythosaur skull mounted onto the wall, leaning against one of tables and facing away from them as she quietly gathered her thoughts. “You have removed your helmet. What’s worse, you did so of your own free will.” The Armorer turned around before continuing with an air of finality, “You are no longer Mandalorian.”

Grogu softly cooed and (Y/N) flashed him a reassuring smile while Din took a step forward and stated, “The Creed teaches us of redemption.”

“Redemption is no longer possible, since the destruction of our homeworld.”

“But what if the Mines of Mandalore still exist?”

The Armorer shook her head in impatience. “All was destroyed in the Purge.”

Biting her lip to keep from voicing her more irritated thoughts, (Y/N) reached into her coat’s pocket and withdrew the thick shard of green-hued crystal. “Is this inscription not Mandalorian?”

While she set the artifact down on the table separating them, she could feel the Armorer’s eyes trained on her and sense her surprise as they took a seat to wait for her answer; after a brief moment’s hesitation, she moved to sit across from them at the table. “Where did you come upon this?”

“Jawas,” Din replied while (Y/N)’s fingers smoothed over Grogu’s wrinkled forehead. “They came upon it by trade from a traveler who claimed to have visited the surface of Mandalore.”

The artifact was only a small tablet inscribed with Mandalorian writing and embedded in crystal, but the Armorer picked it up and examined it as if it were a faulty thermal detonator. “Then this relic only proves that Mandalore’s entire surface has been crystalized by fusion rays.”

“But a traveler was able to retrieve this…so perhaps, it is not poisoned.” The Armorer remained silent and Din took it as a sign to continue. “If we visit the planet and we can bring you proof that I have bathed in the Living Waters beneath the Mines of Mandalore, then by Creed, the decree of exile will be lifted and I would be redeemed.”

(Y/N) had spent enough time around Din to master the ability of reading the emotions of anyone who donned a helmet and as the Armorer sat across from the three of them, she knew that she was considering more than just Din’s transgression and status as an apostate. But she held her tongue and merely watched the Armorer shift in her seat before finally speaking. “This is the Way.”

Din’s shoulders sagged in relief and once they got to their feet, he lifted Grogu into his arms and gave the Armorer a firm nod. “Then we will see you again.”

The both of them turned and began making their way back through the network of tunnels, and (Y/N) glanced over at her husband with a knowing smile on her lips. “So, Nevarro?”

“Mm-hmm. It’s time to recruit a little help for our new quest.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome to Nevarro, independent trade anchor and Outer Rim Hyperlane port. Please state the purpose of your visit.”

“We’re here to meet an old friend,” (Y/N) answered, expertly piloting the starfighter over the bustling city and easing into their descent as she took in the wondrous sight before them. “When we heard talk that Nevarro was thriving as of late, I had no idea that it’d be like this.”

“You should’ve seen what it looked like back when the Guild still operated here.” Din’s modulated voice was filled with awe and he leaned forward to get a closer look at the planet he’d once spent most of his time on. She landed the starfighter just beyond the city’s archway where dozens of other ships were stationed and allowed the Mandalorian to help her down from the cockpit, tilting his helmeted head down to give him a Keldabe Kiss and activating the mechanism to release Grogu’s floating pram from the ship.

The two of them walked hand-in-hand through the city’s archway while Grogu drifted along beside them, quietly admiring the thriving community that successfully emerged from the remnants of the Empire better and stronger than before. Vendors sold their wares along the streets to eager shoppers of all manner of species – (Y/N) craned her neck to see if there were any selling fabrics and sewing materials while Din gave her shoulder a loving bump – and stalls of chefs preparing various delicacies filled the air with mouth-watering aromas. She chuckled when she noticed Grogu staring up in interest at a tree filled with chattering Kowakian monkey-lizards and she listened in as they walked past a stationed white protocol droid.

“Welcome to the port of Nevarro, gem of the Outer Rim. Our esteemed High Magistrate welcomes you and hopes that your stay will be a prosperous one.”

“Greef Karga seems to be as humble a man as I remember,” (Y/N) remarked with a giggle as Din shook his head in exasperation. “Let’s just hope he’s not as big of a flirt; I’m a married woman now, after all.”

“He’ll get over his disappointment.” Din’s voice was filled with enough snark to make her chuckle and give his pauldron a reassuring kiss.

“We invite you to visit our shops and markets, enjoy local delicacies, marvel at the black lava canyons, or soak in the geothermal springs.”

Her brow arched in interest at the protocol droid’s spiel while they passed by; she knew it had been a while since they’d experienced the luxury of real lodgings, and nothing sounded as good to her in that moment as a relaxing bath and a good night’s sleep in an honest-to-Maker real bed. Maybe we’ll be able to spend a night before the next leg of our journey, she thought with a glimmer of hope.

Beside her, Din hummed in interest as they strolled past a street band and a group of children at play. “A lot has changed around here.”

They came upon the city square, where a statue of an IG-series assassin droid stood tall atop a jagged pedestal; Din and Grogu’s adventures with IG-11 happened long before (Y/N) joined their quest but she’d heard plenty of stories about the droid that saved both of their lives from Moff Gideon and his Imperial forces. IG-11 was the only droid that Din had ever called a friend and with the knowledge of the horrors he’d experienced when he was a child as the sole survivor of a Separatist droid attack, she understood why the droid’s noble sacrifice meant so much to him.

“It was thoughtful of Greef to erect a statue of him,” (Y/N) remarked as she studied the droid’s worn parts. “Now, all of Nevarro will remember the droid who sacrificed himself to rid their planet of Imperial remnants.”

Her husband nodded and glanced over at Grogu. “Do you remember your old friend?”

The child’s large green ears fell and when he let out a saddened coo, (Y/N) patted the top of his wrinkled head and gave him a comforting smile. “It’s okay, little guy.”

“Mando! (Y/N)!” They both turned to see a beaming Greef Karga making his way towards them, dressed in the elaborate robes of a High Magistrate complete with two droids holding the hem of his cape above the ground. “I heard that the both of you were back, but I didn’t believe it.”

There was a smile in Din’s modulated voice as he gave his old friend a nod. “Magistrate Karga.”

“That’s High Magistrate Karga to you,” Greef chuckled and firmly clasped Din’s arm in greeting before turning to (Y/N) with a charming smile. “But you may call me whatever you’d like, my dear. It’s so very good to see such a beauty once again grace our city with her presence.”

Just as he moved to place a kiss on her knuckles, (Y/N) calmly extricated her hand from his and extended her fingers to show off her wedding band. “You’re very kind, Greef, but I’m actually spoken for now; we were married several months ago on my homeworld of Naboo.”

Greef’s face illuminated with joy and he clasped his hands together. “Congratulations, my friends! Come, we’ll share a drink in honor of the happy couple and catch up on old times!” He looked down at Grogu and gave his nose a gentle tap. “And, of course, we’ll find a special treat for the little one as well.”

The child’s joyful giggles accompanied the trio as they entered the city’s main hall and Din’s helmet tilted to the side. “Doesn’t even look like the same place…”

“I know, we’ve done a lot with it! The citizens have been instrumental in making this all work, and look at this.”

(Y/N) smiled while she followed the High Magistrate upstairs to his office overlooking the sprawling cityscape. “The possibility of communities like this being able to thrive after the tyranny of the Empire was what many of us Rebels fought for. You all should be very proud of yourselves, Greef.”

“You’re far too kind, my dear,” Greef led them into his office and gave Din a mischievous wink. “And you are a very lucky man, Mando.”

“I know,” Her husband replied as he lifted Grogu out of his pram and set him down on one of the desk chairs. “Don’t spin it too much, okay, kid?”

Grogu babbled to himself and started to rotate the chair using the Force, and a chuckling (Y/N) caressed one of his ears while she followed Din and Greef out onto the office’s spacious balcony. “We are now an official trade spur of the Hydian Way. We’ve got a construction boom going on in the city, the belters are mining the asteroid fields at the edge of the system…” They all looked out at the stunning view before them. “There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro.”

“I can see.”

Greef’s eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. “I can set you up with a prime tract right over by the hot springs! You two and the little one, you can settle down, you can hang up your blasters, live off the fat of the land.” He turned to (Y/N) and gestured towards her impeccably-handmade clothing. “You’re a self-taught seamstress from a prominent Mid-Rim planet, (Y/N); you could open a shop right here in the heart of Nevarro!”

Taken aback by the casual mention of her life-long dream, all (Y/N) could think to say in response was one word. “Grogu.”

“…Come again?”

Din pointed at the child, who was still keeping himself entertained by spinning his chair in circles. “The kid. His name is Grogu.”

“Oh…If you say so! Come, I wanna show you something…” Greef walked back into the office and they followed, (Y/N) doing her best not to glance over at Din as the High Magistrate’s offer played on repeat in her mind; she’d always dreamed of living the quiet life of a seamstress, with a shop to call her own and the ability to practice the trade she’d studied as a child on Naboo. Din had known about her dream for some time, and (Y/N) didn’t need to see his face to tell he was riddled with guilt over not being able to give it to her. While she watched, Greef walked around his desk and activated a holo-map, smiling in self-assurance as he gestured to an empty portion of land. “Now, as I was saying, there’s a beautiful parcel available right down here by the flats-”

“We appreciate the offer, but we have some matters to look after,” Din interrupted with an apologetic shrug.

Greef’s brow furrowed. “Oh, I’m confused. I thought you two had completed your mission, but you’re still running around here with the same little critter.”

The Mandalorian reached out and held the back of Grogu’s chair to stop its spinning before replying, “It’s complicated; we completed our quest, but he returned to us. I removed my helmet, and now I’m an apostate.”

“Which is all the more reason for you all to stay here with us!” As Greef talked, Grogu used the Force to summon a piece of candy from the bowl on the desk and (Y/N) expertly snatched a second out of the air so he couldn’t eat it. “Where you’re from, you may be an apostate but here, you’d be landed gentry.”

Before either Din or (Y/N) could answer, a golden protocol droid entered the office. “Magistrate!”

“High Magistrate.”

“Y-Yes, High Magistrate, apologies-”

“Your timing couldn’t be any worse.”

“But it’s just that, there’s someone here to see you-”

Greef impatiently waved the droid off. “It can wait.”

“But it’s pirates!” Greef, (Y/N) and Din all froze at the protocol droid’s panicked interruption. “Pirates in the courtyard!”

The High Magistrate’s jaw clenched and he turned towards them both. “Could I ask a favor of you both?”

(Y/N) nodded and set Grogu back into his pram while Din asked, “I take it they’re not friends of yours?”

“They used to be,” Greef replied, and the three of them strode out of the office to the courtyard down below. “That’s the problem.”

Once they reached the courtyard just past the statue of IG-11, (Y/N) split away from Din and Grogu to lean a shoulder against the schoolhouse wall; her husband leaned against a nearby tree while Greef slowly approached the group of rowdy pirates preoccupied with threatening the school’s poor protocol droid standing guard at the door.

“Get out of my way, or I’ll split your circuits!” The droid whimpered in fear at the Nikto’s threat and (Y/N)’s nostrils flared in anger, but she stayed where she was and allowed Greef to talk to the pirates first. “Stand aside, droid, don’t you know who we are?”

“Come on, Vane.” The Nikto and his friends turned around in surprise at the sound of Greef’s voice. “That’ll be enough of that.”

Vane, the obvious leader of the group, opened his arms and grinned. “Greef Karga, my old friend. I knew you wouldn’t insult us. Come, join us for a drink!”

Greef chuckled humorlessly and gestured towards the city’s main hall. “Let’s continue this conversation back at my office. This is a school.”

“Well, that explains why she wouldn’t let me in.” The pirates laughed and (Y/N) bit her lip in anticipation. “I forgot, it was your cut of my boss’s treasure that built this saloon.”

“Pirate King Gorian Shard’s name is familiar to all in this sector.” (Y/N) refused to react to the name uttered by Greef but inside, she was filled with a sudden urge to shudder; she’d had dealings with the Pirate King as a young smuggler – none of them very pleasant for either party – and when she’d become a Rebellion captain, she’d hoped that her days of dealing with scum like Shard and his pirates were well behind her. Apparently not, she thought to herself and refocused on the tense scene playing out before her. “Come, join me for a drink back at my office. We’ll toast to your captain.”

Vane’s eyes narrowed in anger. “We drink here.”

“…That is a school now.”

“I say it’s still a bar. Now, bring us a drink.”

Din tilted his helmeted head to the side and called out, “Is there a problem here, Magistrate?”

“High Magistrate,” (Y/N) corrected as she pushed herself off the wall and strode over to stand near Greef. “There sure looks like a problem to me.”

His brow arched while the Nikto and his friends studied his two companions. “Is there a problem here? What do you think?”

Vane merely shrugged. “Not if you serve me a drink.”

“Not in my school.”

That made Vane chuckle. “You hear that, boys? His school!” The other pirates slowly flanked their leader as he walked into the center of the street. “You paid us for murder and mayhem inside these doors.” He brushed his coat aside to reveal the blaster holstered at his hip. “Sounds like you went soft.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw Din push himself away from the tree trunk and stand tall. “You think so?” Greef pushed his robes out of the way to reveal his own blaster. “Try me.”

The mounting tension in the air was palpable as Greef and Vane stared one another down; the group of pirates behind the Nikto held their breaths and hovered their hands over the hilts of their blasters while (Y/N) and Din did the same, both sides waiting for the other to make the first move. In the blink of an eye, Greef shot Vane’s hand just as he started to raise his blaster, causing him to groan in pain and hold his injured hand to his chest while frightened citizens of Nevarro scattered at the sound of blaster fire.

“Tell Captain Gorian Shard that Nevarro is no longer friendly to pirates,” The High Magistrate commanded without lowering his blaster. “Now get out of here.” Predictably, the other pirates started reaching for their blasters but before they could fully draw them, (Y/N) and Din shot all five of them dead while Vane cowered away from the multitude of blaster bolts. “Get out of here, Vane. Now.”

The Nikto threw Greef one final glare before turning and running down the street towards the edge of the city. “Sure you wanna let him go?” Din asked as he holstered his blaster and joined (Y/N) beside Grogu’s pram, resting a gloved hand on the small of her back while she pressed a comforting kiss onto the child’s wrinkled head.

“He’ll let it be known that Nevarro is respectable now and not to be trifled with.” Greef holstered his blaster before turning to address his protocol droid. “Have the service droids scrub up out there.”

“Yes, sir, right away.”

Greef led them back down the street towards the city’s square and sighed. “I’ve gotta level with you two, I need a marshal.”

(Y/N) frowned in confusion. “But what about Marshal Dune?”

“After she brought in Moff Gideon, she was recruited by Special Forces.”

Beside her, Din’s shoulders tensed. “And what came of Gideon?”

“He was sent off to a New Republic War Tribunal.” Although (Y/N) was unsurprised by the fate of their old enemy, she knew that a part of her husband wanted nothing more than to see the Imperial officer dead at his feet. “So, what do you say? You ready to put on the stripes and collect a healthy stipend? You’d make a very fine lawman, Mando, and you can even have (Y/N) here serve as your partner.”

It was Din’s turn to be confused. “Why not request one from the New Republic?”

“The last thing we intend is to bow down to yet another far-off bureaucracy,” Greef explained. “No, under my watch, Nevarro will become the first truly independent trade anchor in this entire sector.”

(Y/N) glanced over at Din before giving the High Magistrate an apologetic smile. “While we’re honored by your invitation, we can’t serve as your law enforcement. We have something pressing to attend to.”

“Apologies, I didn’t know you were here on business.” Greef bowed his head and extended his hands outwards. “What can we provide?”

Din turned and pointed at the nearby statue of IG-11. “I need him back.”

Greef’s brow arched as he chuckled in disbelief at the Mandalorian’s request. “IG-11 was destroyed on the lava river. This is just a statue!”

“These are his parts, are they not?”

“…I mean, what’s left of ‘em. We were lucky to recover any of his parts after he self-destructed.”

“We need a droid we can trust to help us explore Mandalore, and he’s that droid.”

The High Magistrate shook his head. “Mando, we’ve got plenty of droids around here, we’ll find you one. I guarantee it.”

“I already tried convincing him to look for a different droid, but he’s insistent that IG-11 is the best and only droid for the job.” (Y/N) looped her arm around her husband’s waist and gave Greef an imploring look. “Please, just let us give it a shot.”

With a deep sigh, Greef finally nodded in agreement. “Very well. Has anyone ever told you that you’re both as stubborn as massiffs?”

“Only once or twice…” Din shrugged and while the High Magistrate began making arrangements to have the droid’s parts disassembled and sent up to his office, (Y/N) kissed the side of his helmet. They were one step closer to completing their new quest and with it, one step closer to finally having peace in their lives again.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Two
The Droid

“If I knew that you were this skilled at rewiring I would’ve had you work on the Razor Crest much more often,” Din remarked as he worked alongside (Y/N) to repair IG-11; there wasn’t much of the droid left in the wake of its self-destruction to work on, but the wiring was complex and thanks to his wife’s precise touch, she could handle even the most delicate wires without inadvertently damaging them more than they already were.

(Y/N) smiled but kept her eyes focused on her work. “Just like a bounty hunter to suggest that. Would you have had me clean your weapons and carbon-freeze all your bounties for you, too?”

“Perhaps it’s better that you stuck to flying the ship; I hear that smugglers tend to think that anything outside of piloting is too taxing on them.”

His wife glanced away from her soldering long enough to give him a playful glare and as she went back to work, she mumbled under her breath, “Keep talking like that, and I might just have to put a stop to our usual nighttime activities; you know, since apparently anything outside of piloting is too taxing on me.”

Beneath his helmet, Din smirked at the captain’s teasing threat. “Mir’sheb.” While they both started to finish repairing the droid’s wiring, his smile slowly faded and he was filled with a familiar sense of guilt.

Their honeymoon on Naboo had been an absolute dream; they spent their days playing with Grogu and exploring the Lake Country of (Y/N)’s beloved homeworld, and their nights were spent locked in each other’s passionate embrace. But, as with all dreams, it came to an end when Din decided to seek out the Living Waters and atone for his transgression against the Creed. He felt guilty enough as he explained his plan to his wife, but his guilt compounded when she readily agreed and he spotted the quick flash of disappointment in her eyes before she could hide it. (Y/N) had lived a life that was nothing short of traumatic; she never knew her father, she’d lost her mother and was forced to flee her homeworld of Naboo when she was only twelve, she spent her adolescence engulfed in the dangerous life of a smuggler, and she’d witnessed the horrors of war firsthand as she worked to save thousands of lives on behalf of the Rebellion. If anyone was deserving of peace, it was her and yet, she chose to marry a Mandalorian apostate and become the co-caregiver to a powerful Force-wielding foundling. One day I’ll earn the love and trust she’s given me, he silently vowed as he studied her beautiful features, and one day she’ll have the peace she’s always desired but never truly experienced.

“There,” (Y/N) straightened and set down her soldering gun before removing her safety goggles and wiping the sweat off her brow. “He’s hooked up to power.”

“Let’s see if we can wake him up.” Din leaned past Grogu, who stood on the work table and had watched their progress with curious eyes, and held two exposed wires together until they finally sparked and smoked; when IG-11 remained motionless, Greef shot him a knowing look but Din remained hopeful that the droid would wake. After a tense moment, the droid’s hand began to twitch and his lights flickered on as he started to sit up, and Din started to smile underneath his helmet.

The High Magistrate chuckled in amazement. “There you go!”

(Y/N) beamed and Grogu let out a delighted coo as IG-11 struggled to speak. “Sub-paragraph sixteen-teen-teen…of t-the Bondsman Guild protocol w-waiver…” Din froze and his heart hammered in his chest as the droid’s familiar words. “Immediately produce said…the bounty is mine. Asset to be terminated.”

IG-11’s lights turned red and he lunged towards Grogu, but Din quickly scooped the child up into his arms and backed away; the droid rolled itself onto the ground and started to crawl towards them, and Din was forced to draw his blaster and fire. The blaster fire did nothing to deter IG-11, so he looked up and over at (Y/N). “Alor’ad!”

(Y/N) held her arms out and caught Grogu after Din tossed him across the room, cradling the child against her chest and drawing her own blaster as IG-11 started crawling in her direction. Greef wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her backwards as he shouted, “Mando, shoot it! Shoot it!”

Din and (Y/N)’s blaster fire started to slow the droid down, but it wasn’t until Greef’s protocol droid shoved a metallic bust of its master onto IG-11’s head that the droid finally shut down for good. The three of them breathed a sigh of relief and Din holstered his blaster with a weary shrug. “Now that’s using your head.”

His wife groaned at his terrible joke and shook her head in exasperation before giving the protocol droid a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“I think he defaulted to his old programming…”

Greef huffed out a humorless laugh. “You think? Come, I may have a solution to your problem…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s still a chance we could bypass IG-11’s old programming and rewire his circuitry,” (Y/N) remarked as she handed Grogu a piece of candy. The three of them walked down one of Nevarro’s less crowded streets, with Din pushing a hover-cart piled high with the droid’s parts and Grogu seated next to them and both Greef and (Y/N) walking alongside it. “It’ll be a two-person job, of course. One doing the rewiring while the other prepares to smash its head in just in case…”

“That’s too big a job for you two to do by yourself.” Greef gestured at the city surrounding them and smiled. “Fortunately, Nevarro has attracted the best droidsmiths of the Outer Rim; they’ll have IG back to his old self in no time!”

Beneath his helmet, Din grimaced in doubt. “Are you sure they’re up for it? I don’t think we can handle him with all his limbs if things go scud.”

“Why don’t you ask ‘em for yourself?”

Din frowned and glanced around the empty street. “Who?”

“The Anzellans.”

(Y/N) nudged Din’s arm and gestured to the base of the building beside them; there were two doors, one small and one slightly larger, and standing outside of the smaller door was a grumbling Anzellan with safety goggles resting on his wrinkled head. “Whadda want?”

Greef took a knee – careful not to get too much dirt on his High Magistrate robes – and pointed to the hover-cart. “Could you take a look at my friends’ droid and see if you can’t fix it?”

“C’mon, c’mon,” The Anzellan pointed to the larger door before disappearing back into the building.

Shrugging, (Y/N) got down onto the ground and crawled into the droidsmith’s workshop and as Grogu hopped down to follow, Din shot Greef a look; the High Magistrate simply shrugged and nodded towards the opening. “I promise you, these are the best droidsmiths that money can buy. Just give ‘em a chance, hey, Mando?”

Din heaved a sigh but relented, crawling into the workshop after his wife and foundling and doing his best to sit comfortably in the cramped space while Greef shoved the remains of IG-11 in for the Anzellans to examine. While they waited for the crew of droidsmiths to finish with their assessment, (Y/N) pulled out the knapsack she was making for Grogu and worked some more on it and Grogu, unused to seeing creatures that were his own size, watched the Anzellans work with unabashed fascination in his wide eyes.

After several minutes of unsuccessful soldering, the head droidsmith shook his tiny head in disappointment. “No. Can’t fix. No, no, no. The broken.”

“…Um, okay…”

“The broken. It broke.”

Din sighed. “I don’t understand. Do you speak Huttese?”

“Mando, he said he can’t fix it,” Greef called out from his spot at the workshop’s entrance.

“That’s no good, I need this one.” He pointed at the droid’s remains and then back at himself. “This one’s my friend.”

The Anzellan merely shook his head. “It no friend anymore. Memory circuit broken.”

“He says the memory circuit is shot!”

(Y/N) scooted forward and gave the head droidsmith a patient smile. “Can you put a new one in?”

“No, no, no, no. Not work,” The Anzellan declared and the other droidsmiths chattered in agreement. “Don’t make new one. Very hard to find.”

“He said they don’t make ‘em anymore! They’re very hard to find!”

Din’s jaw clenched in annoyance at Greef’s translation. “I got it.”

“Buy new droid, this one poodoo.” The droidsmiths all burst into laughter.

As (Y/N)’s hand gave the unarmored part of his arm a gentle squeeze of support, Din asked through gritted teeth, “Can you fix it without the memory circuit?”

“Yes, but IG no think.”

A sudden thought came to Din’s mind and after considering it for a moment, he followed the Anzellan’s statement with another question. “What if we find you the part?”

The lead droidsmith nodded. “Okay, now. Then no problem. We fix.”

(Y/N) was smiling as she turned to face Din. “You’re thinking of paying Peli a visit, aren’t you?”

“If anyone’s got an IG memory circuit, it’s her.” He rested his gloved hand atop hers and nodded. “We’ll visit her after we go to Kalevala-”

“No! No! No! No! No!” They quickly looked over to see Grogu pulling the lead droidsmith into a tight hug. “No, down, down!”

Din stretched an arm out across the workshop to separate the two. “No, Grogu, he’s not a pet.”

“No, squeezie, not squeeze! Not squeeze!” When Din set the droidsmith down away from the child’s eager arms, he shook his head and scolded, “Bad baby! Oh, he’s a bad baby!”

The captain winced and gave the Anzellan an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. He’s young.”

“Bad baby, bad baby.” Grogu waited for a beat before lunging at the screaming Anzellan again. “Oh!”

“No, Grogu!” Both Din and (Y/N) reached out to grab the overexcited foundling and once he was safely nestled in (Y/N)’s arms, he finally started to relax his tense shoulders; after a quick trip to see an old friend on Tatooine, IG-11 would be back online in no time and they’d finally be ready to visit Mandalore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, Greef watched as Din and (Y/N) climbed up into the starship and prepared for take-off. “We hope to see you three back here soon.”

“Keep IG-11 safe until we get back with that part,” Din requested as the captain input their coordinates for Kalevala.

The High Magistrate nodded but remained unconvinced of their plan. “If the Anzellans can’t find it, I don’t know who can.”

“Usually I’d agree, but I wouldn’t bet against Peli Motto,” (Y/N) remarked with a bright smile. “It was good to see you again, High Magistrate.”

Greef returned her grin with one of his own. “Safe travels.”

After sliding the windshield into place overhead, (Y/N) powered up the starfighter’s engines and eased the ship up into the clear blue sky. “All right, next stop: Bo-Katan.” They exited Nevarro’s upper atmosphere and the lights illuminating the ship’s dashboard began to flicker. “Dank farrik…” She gave the dashboard a light smack to fix it and chuckled as Grogu crawled into her lap with an inquisitive coo. “It’s okay, little guy, sometimes a planet’s atmosphere messes with a ship’s power. Our maps and charts are still functioning, so we’re good!”

“Being a Mandalorian’s not just learning about how to fight,” Din commented, resting one hand on his wife’s side and rubbing the child’s large ear with the other. “You also have to know how to navigate the galaxy, because you never know where you might be headed next.”

Grogu babbled in interest and looked between them both as (Y/N) began pointing at the various indicators on the ship’s dashboard. “This here’s your hyperspace map; you see how it shows the asteroid field we’re flying past? You determine your range by looking at your fuel gage, that’s right over here. And this-” An alarm began to blare and the cockpit was lit up with a red warning light. “Is your enemy proximity warning indicator.”

Din’s brow furrowed as he glanced around the empty space surrounding their starfighter and spotted the three snubfighters approaching from behind. “Hang on, kid, we got pirates…”

“Avast, Mandalorian!” The familiar voice of Vane the Nikto came through their ship’s communication radio. “You can’t just sneak away after cuttin’ down four of my brothers in cold blood. We’re Pirate King Gorian Shard’s men, now you’ll answer to him.”

(Y/N) rolled her shoulders and flexed her fingers in preparation before taking hold of the starship’s controls and replying, “Gorian Shard should stick to hijacking and ransoming.” Grogu slipped under the captain’s satchel strap and without warning, (Y/N) jerked the controls to send them shooting off into the nearby asteroid field.

Although he trusted (Y/N)’s piloting skills and had witnessed her pull off some remarkable flying in the past, he sat back and anxiously watched his wife dodge asteroids as the three pirates began firing at them. She steered the ship into a rapid corkscrew spin, and Din was forced to hold a giggling Grogu down to prevent him from falling out of his makeshift seat-belt; the three pirates continued their pursuit through the floating asteroids and as she smoothly exited the turning maneuver, the enemy proximity warning indicator sounded off while three more pirate ships approached from the side.

“Three more…” (Y/N) murmured under her breath but if anything, she sounded almost bored by the pirates’ attempt to lure her into a dogfight. Another sharp jerk of the controls sent them darting around more asteroids and after ducking under a particularly large one, she bent down to press a quick kiss onto Grogu’s wrinkled head. “Hold on tight, little guy.” She flipped the starfighter upside-down and sped over the top of the asteroid, firing at the unsuspecting pirates and managing to hit one of them, flying further into the asteroid field as the ship crashed into another asteroid and exploded. The five remaining pirate ships pursued them but with the dexterity of a true smuggler, (Y/N) maneuvered the starship behind a sizable asteroid without them noticing and waited for one to pass by before shooting it down.

“Head for that asteroid due east, it’s got a hollowed-out center,” Din suggested as he pointed to the asteroid floating in the distance.

(Y/N) sped off in its direction and flew the ship through the hollowed-out center, coming out of its other end just in time to shoot down a third pirate ship as it flew past. “Good call, sweetheart!” Twisting the controls to the side, the captain spun the ship around an asteroid and appeared behind the remaining three pirate ships, managing to shoot two of them down and race after the final ship but before she could shoot it, they came out of the asteroid field and were met with the sight of an enormous Cumulus Class Corsair before them. “Dank farrik,” (Y/N) cursed and Din’s eyes widened when he noticed the starship’s guns all pointed at their starfighter. “They’ve got a target lock on us…”

“Stop where you are, Pilot,” A grizzled voice came through the communication radio. “You’re outgunned.”

(Y/N) shifted in her seat but calmly replied, “It’s ‘Captain,’ actually.”

“Ah, Captain (Y/L/N), I might’ve known it was you!” Din’s brows shot up in surprise but he remained silent as the voice continued. “Turning your back on the smuggling life only to take up arms with a Mandalorian, I see.”

“We have no quarrel with you, Gorian Shard.”

“Ha! What a kind sentiment from a woman who just destroyed five of my fighters. Surrender your ship, and I will spare your lives…for old time’s sake.”

Din didn’t have to see his wife’s face to tell that she was rolling her eyes at the Pirate King’s offer. “Little guy?” Grogu cooed in interest as she flipped the cover off the Kineso-switch. “Never trust a pirate.”

With a push of the button, the starfighter shot off into space and past the Pirate King’s starship; while the child giggled in delight, she finished charting their course and launched them into hyperspace. “Well, that was exciting,” Din remarked with a proud smile, removing his helmet so that he could press kisses along her temple and down her cheek. “So, you had dealings with the Pirate King while you were a smuggler?”

“Only a handful, but Gorian Shard’s unpleasantness makes them pretty hard to forget.” (Y/N) took his helmet and held it upside-down so that Grogu could crawl inside, then turned her head to finally meet his gaze. “And apparently, I must’ve made quite the impression on him back in the day, otherwise he never would’ve remembered a scrappy smuggler like me.”

Din smiled at that. “You underestimate yourself, alor’ad. Everything about you, from your expert piloting skills down to your beautiful features, makes it impossible for one not to forget you. And speaking of your piloting skills, I’d happily show you just how much I admired them if we were alone right now.”

The captain grinned and kissed him as her fingers threaded through his hair, and she smiled against his lips when she finally pulled away. “In that case, can I possibly get a rain-check on that offer?”

“Mm-hmm,” He hummed and gave her another sweet kiss. “You can have whatever you want, alor’ad.”

While the starfighter traveled through the peaceful and quiet hyperspace and Grogu napped in his father’s beskar helmet, Din and (Y/N) spent their brief moments of calm engulfed in a world all their own, engaging in murmured conversation interspersed with plenty of kisses. It wasn’t much, of course, but it was time spent that Din cherished with all his heart, even more so as they came even closer to completing their newest mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is Kalevala,” Din spoke to Grogu as (Y/N) piloted the starfighter through the planet’s cloudy skies, smiling to himself when the child babbled in interest from his compartment in the back. “It’s another planet in the Mandalorian system, and that is a Mandalorian castle.”

 (Y/N) whistled lowly as the grand Mandalorian castle perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean grew closer. “And here I thought my people were the dramatic ones when it comes to architecture…”

The starfighter lowered gracefully onto the castle’s landing pad and once the engines switched off, the windshield slid open and they were both pelted with rain as they climbed down. After releasing Grogu’s pram from his compartment, they walked up the stone steps and past a footman droid, entering the eerily silent castle and making their way down the main hall. Bo-Katan Kryze lounged across her throne, her expression blasé and almost disconnected as she looked away from the nearby window to fix their trio with a stare.

Din anxiously wet his lips before calling out, “Bo-Katan. It is Din Djarin and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” They came to a stop before her throne’s dais. “We are here to join you.”

Bo-Katan’s expression didn’t change. “There’s nothing left to join.”

“What of your plans to retake Mandalore?” (Y/N) asked in confusion as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“When I returned without the Darksaber, my forces melted away.”

With a slight sense of guilt, Din exchanged a brief look with the captain standing beside him before glancing back up at the somber Mandalorian. “Where is the stolen fleet?”

“Making their way through the galaxy as mercenaries,” Bo-Katan replied, her eyes flicking over his form as she continued. “Do you still have the saber?”

“I do.”

“Then you lead them. Wave that thing around and they’ll do whatever you say.”

Din weighed his next words carefully. “So, you gave up your designs to retake Mandalore?”

The Mandalorian’s eyes hardened. “Your cult gave up on Mandalore long before the Purge. Where were you then?”

“Are you seriously blaming my husband for a massacre that happened when he was only a foundling?” (Y/N) demanded, her (Y/E/C) eyes filling with a dangerous gleam as she stepped forward. “Perhaps you should reflect on the failures of your homeworld’s leadership before placing the mark of blame on others.”

Bo-Katan hardly flinched at (Y/N)’s scathing retort. “The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before fractured and shattered our people. No matter what conclusions can be drawn about my family’s leadership of Mandalore, Captain (Y/L/N), that remains an unmovable fact. Go home. There’s nothing left.”

(Y/N)’s jaw clenched but Din spoke up before she could. “We are going to Mandalore so that I may bathe in the Living Waters and be forgiven for my transgressions.”

“You are a fool,” She shook her head in derision. “There’s nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore; they supplied beskar ore to our ancestors and the rest is superstition. That planet has been ravaged, plundered and poisoned.”

“You said that the curse was a lie,” Din countered, his own irritation beginning to rise. “Make up your mind.”

Bo-Katan took a deep breath. “If you want to go to the mines, be my guest. They’re beneath the Civic Center in the city of Sundari.”

“Thank you.” Din placed a hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back and nodded. “And we will find out of the planet is really poisoned.”

They turned and as they walked back down the main hall, Din’s hand drifted down to slip into (Y/N)’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze as they walked out into the pelting rain.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Three
The Mines of Mandalore

“Whoo-hoo! You hear that? She’s purring like a nuzzle shrew!”

(Y/N) grinned at Peli’s colloquial turn of phrase as she switched the starfighter’s engines off. “No complaints so far, but she’s still a little faster than I know what to do with.”

“Well, I’ll tune her up just the same,” The mechanic gave them a wide smile, showing off the gap in her teeth caused during the skirmish between Boba Fett and the Pyke Syndicate not too long ago. “So, uh, where’s my guy?” Before either (Y/N) or Din could reply, Grogu popped up from his seat on her lap and Peli clapped her hands in delight. “There he is!” The child expertly leapt out of the cockpit and into Peli’s open arms. “Now, who taught you how to leap like a Lurmen, huh?”

Din leapt down from the starfighter and extended a hand up to help (Y/N) down, lowering his modulated voice as the mechanic continued fawning over the babbling child. “You know she’s gonna try and rip us off again, right?”

“Her and every other kriffing mechanic in the galaxy, but at least she’s got a nice sense of humor,” (Y/N) shrugged and allowed him to give her a Keldabe Kiss before turning her attention back to Peli. “It’s good to see you again, Peli. How’ve you been?”

“Always so polite! You sure snagged yourself a real lady, Mando; there’s not too many of us out there in the galaxy…” Peli winked at him and (Y/N) hid her smile as he mutely stared back. “Well, it’s Boonta Week and I’ve been making a pretty good killing here, so no complaints. Are you three here for Boonta Eve?”

Din shook his head. “No, we’re here on business.”

“Oh, are the Hutts back? Are you takin’ out Boba Fett?”

“We need a droid part.”

Peli’s excited expression fell and she rolled her eyes. “Urgh, boring!” She turned to the pit droids working on a blue and silver speeder in the hangar’s corner. “Hey, get the Jawas back in here before they hit the cantina.” The pit droids chattered amongst themselves as they followed the mechanic’s order. “You know how Mos Eisley gets during Boonta week…” She held an invisible glass and mimed guzzling down a drink, much to Grogu’s amusement and Din’s exasperation.

“The Anzellans on Nevarro weren’t able to help us, but we were hoping that you’d be able to,” Din explained as Peli led them further into the hangar. “We’re looking for a replacement IG memory circuit.”

The mechanic scoffed. “Oh hey, grandpa. They haven’t made those for a while.” The pit droids led three irritated Jawas into the hangar and Peli addressed them in Jawaese, but the Jawas soon shook their hooded heads and scampered away. “Sorry, pal, no chance cubes.”

“They can’t find the part?”

“Nope.”

“We need our droid fixed now.”

(Y/N) rested a soothing hand on her husband’s beskar chestplate and gave him a gentle smile. “In the meantime, I’m sure that there’s something that Peli can do for us. We’re a couple of her favorite clients, after all.”

“Right as usual! Which is why I think you should buy this beauty here.” Peli stood beside a red and white astromech droid and patted its top, ignoring the puff of smoke and the panel popping off its center.

Din looked between the mechanic and the droid in incredulity. “We can’t use an astromech; we need a droid that’s rated for spelunking.”

“Spelunking? What are you spelunking?”

“We’re going to Mandalore,” Din explained and (Y/N) nodded. “We need a droid that can explore ahead of us and test the atmosphere, make sure it’s safe to breathe.”

Peli sighed. “Okay, well…” The frightened astromech droid started to roll backwards but was quickly spotted by the mechanic. “Uh-uh-uh-uh, get right back here! Right back here, scaredy droid! Come on, now, you gotta shine.” She chuckled and patted the droid’s top again. “This R5 astromech is built for adventure-” The astromech interrupted her with a series of timid beeps, but she only rolled her eyes. “What? Of course you are! You’re supposed to be piloting starfighters across the galaxy and fighting tyranny!”

(Y/N) looked over at Din beside her and watched as he shook his helmeted head in irritation. “It’s falling apart and besides, we’ve got no room for it on the N-1.”

“Nonsense, R5-D4 is as good as the day it came back from serving in the Rebellion! And I’ll reinstall your droid port so this little baby here can even co-pilot.” The droid shuddered and Peli fixed it with a hard glare. “Hey, if you don’t settle your bolts, I’ll sell you back to the Jawas.” She turned back to them with a toothy smile. “And because it’s Boonta, what I’m gonna do is I’m gonna give you this for half the price and throw in a free oil bath.”

Turning to face Din, (Y/N) lowered her voice and pointed out, “We don’t know how long it’ll take to track down that memory circuit or if we’ll even be able to, and an astromech could still really come in handy on Mandalore.”

Din heaved a deep sigh before looking over her shoulder at Peli. “Fine, we’ll take it.”

“I knew you’d make the smart business decision, Mando! Hey, pit droids!” Peli shouted, setting Grogu down and marching across the hangar towards their starfighter. “Bring me my tool chest and prep the oil tank, and be quick about it!”

While the mechanic barked out orders and started working on the starfighter, (Y/N) knelt in front of the timid astromech and smiled. “Hi, R5. It’s always nice to meet a fellow veteran of the Rebellion; I was a captain in the Alliance Fleet, but I never had the honor of flying with an astromech.” She picked up the panel that had popped off and carefully fixed it back on. “There you go, all fixed.” The R5 unit beeped and whistled, and she grinned at his binary message of thanks. “You’re welcome. Enjoy your oil bath!” She got to her feet and brushed the sand off her trousers as the astromech rolled away, but she stopped when she noticed Din staring at her. “What?”

“I thought you weren’t a fan of astromechs.”

“I’m usually not, but he’s a Rebellion veteran,” (Y/N) shrugged. “He might be a droid, but he chose to help us fight the Empire and his service deserves to be as appreciated as any other being’s would be.”

The Mandalorian rested a gloved hand on her waist and lowered his forehead to rest against hers. “Ner cyar’ika alor’ad. Every day since the day I met you, I’ve admired that kind heart of yours.”

(Y/N) felt her face warm at her husband’s words but before she could reply, Peli shouted across the hangar, “Hey, lovebirds! I’ll knock a couple of credits off your bill if you can tear yourselves away from one another and give us a hand over here!”

Chuckling, (Y/N) pressed a fleeting kiss onto the beskar covering Din’s mouth and scooped Grogu up into her arms. “C’mon, you two, let’s go help Peli so we can leave Tatooine before the Boonta Eve festivities get too out of hand…”

The three of them spent the afternoon reinstalling the starfighter’s droid port and tuning the engines and by the time they finished, night had fallen over Mos Eisley and its citizens had begun lighting fireworks to celebrate Boonta Eve. After a quick meal of bantha jerky and biscuits, (Y/N) and Din climbed up into the starfighter’s cockpit and as Grogu jumped up onto (Y/N)’s lap, Peli helped R5 settle into the starfighter’s new droid port.

“Oh, come on, now, don’t be a coward. You’re an astromech, act like one!” Peli scolded before fixing (Y/N) and Din with a knowing look. “I wouldn’t rely too much on this one. Its circuitry’s a little fragile.”

“I thought you said it was built for adventu-?”

The mechanic suddenly slammed the windshield shut and shouted over the engines and the fireworks exploding overhead. “What? Sorry, I can’t hear you!”

Biting her lip to keep from smiling while Din grumbled under his breath, (Y/N) steered the starfighter upwards and remarked, “Peli really is one of a kind, isn’t she?”

While her husband mumbled something in Mando’a, Peli waved alongside her pit droids and called out, “May the Force be with you!”

(Y/N) flew the starfighter over the streets of Mos Eisley and her heart warmed when she noticed Grogu watching the colorful fireworks illuminating the sky in silent awe; Din noticed too, lifting a gloved hand from her waist to stabilize the child as he sat on (Y/N)’s shoulder and pressed his little clawed hands against the windshield. “All right, kid. You ready for an adventure?”

Grogu squealed in delight and R5 anxiously beeped away in the droid port as the starfighter made its way through Tatooine’s upper atmosphere and shot off into hyperspace, charting a course to Mandalore and to Din’s imminent redemption.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, (Y/N) was nervously biting her lip and trying her hardest to think positive thoughts as the starfighter came out of hyperspace. “I knew that the Empire did a number on Mandalore, but this…?”

The planet’s surface had been completely destroyed in the Purge and from what little they could make out through the intense weather patterns sweeping through its atmosphere, it was indeed crystalized and barren of the usual signs of life. It was a sight that (Y/N) had seen time and time again throughout the Rebellion, but knowing that the planet before them was near and dear to her husband and his religion made her blood run cold and led to her silently cursing the Empire for what they’d done.

Grogu whimpered in fright but Din was quick to console him. “It looks scary, I know. But it was once green and beautiful, back when the songs were written. It’s Mandalore, the homeworld of our people; every Mandalorian can trace their roots back to this planet, and the beskar mines deep within. And you know what? I’ve never been there, either.” Din pointed to one of the planet’s distant moons. “I grew up there, on that moon. Concordia.”

“And that’s Kalevala, where we visited Bo-Katan,” (Y/N) added and gestured towards a dot on the starfighter’s scope. “It’s in the same system.”

Grogu cooed and wrapped his hand around one of Din’s fingers as the Mandalorian continued, “A Mandalorian has to understand maps and know their way around. That way, you’ll never be lost.”

Tightening her grip on the controls, (Y/N) surveyed Mandalore’s upper atmosphere with cautious eyes and nodded. “I think I can get us through all that, but it’ll be a bumpy ride.” She leaned down to press a kiss onto Grogu’s wrinkled head. “Hold on tight, little guy.” With a sharp twist of the controls, she piloted the starfighter down through the planet’s storm-filled sky, looking past the sleet and rain pummeling the windshield to avoid the sporadic lightning strikes that lit up the darkened clouds. After several tense moments, they emerged from the storm and flew across the clear skies of Mandalore’s capital city. “See? I told you I could get us through all that,” (Y/N) chuckled after breathing a sigh of relief.

“We never doubted you once, alor’ad. Did we, kid?”

Grogu cuddled up against (Y/N)’s chest and she gave his head a quick pat before smacking the starfighter’s blinking console. “Looks like the fusion bombs from the Purge disrupted the magnetic field around the planet. From the surface, we won’t be able to communicate with anyone out of atmosphere, so we have to be careful.”

She could feel Din nod behind her. “Down here, we’re completely cut off from the rest of the galaxy.”

Spotting a flat patch of crystalized earth, (Y/N) landed the starfighter down onto it and switched off the engines before addressing the astromech through the comms. “Okay, R5, we’re gonna need you to scout ahead and analyze the atmosphere.”

R5’s beeps and whistles were interrupted by an impatient Din. “That wasn’t a question.” He reached past (Y/N) and unceremoniously released the astromech from his droid port, ignoring the pointed look that (Y/N) gave him as he pointed towards a cluster of green-colored crystals nearby. “Go over to that split in the rock, and take an air sample of the ruins below.”

The three of them watched the astromech reluctantly wheel itself towards the rocks and (Y/N) stroked one of Grogu’s ears to soothe his anxious whimpers. “R5 will be fine, little guy, we just need him to take some readings to make sure it’s safe for us.”

The astromech stopped and turned his top to look back at the ship and beep. “Don’t be a baby. Just get the samples we need, and hurry up.”

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to be just a little nicer to the poor droid. I think he’s intimidated by you…” (Y/N) pointed out but before her husband could reply, R5 disappeared from view and Grogu let out a fearful wail. “Here, Grogu, look. You can watch him on the scope.” The child watched the red dot that represented R5 move farther and farther away, and (Y/N)’s brow shot up in surprise when the dot vanished from the scope altogether. “…Dank farrik.”

“R5, come in. Do you read me?” There was only static coming through the comms. “It’s probably just interference.”

Grogu stared up at Din with eyes wide in fear and even (Y/N) was beginning to feel that something was wrong. “Sweetheart, I’ve got a bad feeling about this and so does Grogu. R5 could be in some serious trouble right now.”

Her husband looked between the both of them before sighing and giving them a nod. “Fine, I’ll go get him. Normally, this is droid work; I was hoping to avoid going out there.”

“Wait, I’m going with you-”

“Alor’ad, someone has to watch Grogu and the ship in case the droid’s disappearance is some sort of diversion.” Din lifted the edge of his helmet so he could kiss her furrowed brow. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” He waited for her to nod before reaching into one of the side compartments and pulling out a portable oxygen mask. “I’ll pressurize my helmet, but you’ll need to wear this while I open the top and Grogu, you’ll need to seal yourself in your pod.”

Grogu closed his pram and (Y/N) fastened the oxygen pack onto her blaster belt. “Be careful, Din.”

“I’ll be right back.” Din waited for her to secure the mask over her mouth and nose before opening the starfighter’s windshield and climbing down; as soon as it slid back into place, she pulled the mask off and the child emerged from his pram, his large ears drooping at the sight of the Mandalorian walking off towards the rocks in the distance.

“It’s okay, little guy, he’ll be right back,” (Y/N) reassured him, but the ominous feeling remained festering in the pit of her stomach and judging by the way Grogu was looking at her, she suspected that he felt the same way. “I don’t like this. I’m gonna go and help him, all right?” Grogu cooed and patted her hand before closing himself up in his pram again, and she took a deep breath, slipping her oxygen mask back on and climbing down from the cockpit. With a small wave to Grogu anxiously watching her, (Y/N) drew her blaster and slowly crossed the clearing to the jagged crevice in the rock. She entered the dimly-lit tunnel with the intent of quietly reconnoitering, but the sounds of battle ahead urged her forward into a run.

When she turned another corner, she was met with the terrifying sight of Din fighting off three snarling humanoid creatures; he held the Darksaber in his hand and as she watched, he cut one of the creatures along its torso and let it roll off the nearby cliff overlooking a massive cavern housing the ruins of a sprawling city. He sidestepped the second’s attack and shoved it hard over the cliff, but the third creature slammed its club against his back; before it could strike him again, (Y/N) shot it in its torso and bought Din enough time to counter its strikes and stab it through the chest with the Darksaber. He retracted the illuminated blade and pushed the corpse over the cliff as (Y/N) hurried over to him.

“I told you I didn’t have a good feeling about all this,” She joked and handed him his dropped blaster. “Are you okay?”

Din nodded, holstering his weapons and giving her hand a squeeze before gesturing to the opposite side of the tunnel. “I’m fine, and I think the droid is too.” R5 beeped and whistled in indignation as he laid on a pile of crystalized earth, and the both of them exchanged a look before striding over to him. They both righted the weighty astromech and while (Y/N) brushed off his sides, Din gave his domed top a pat. “Okay, you’re all right. Now come on, let’s get you back to the ship.”

They followed R5 out of the tunnels and crossed the clearing to the starfighter; Grogu’s face brightened in relief when they came into view and he tapped an impatient hand against the windshield as they stopped beside the ship. “Hang on, little guy. Not until we check the toxicity.”

“You got an analysis on the atmosphere yet?” Din asked the astromech. R5 replied in binary and projected a graph into the space before them, and both Din and (Y/N) exchanged a look of surprise. “The charts were wrong; the atmosphere is breathable.”

“Which means that Bo-Katan was right,” (Y/N) breathed in realization, slipping off her oxygen mask and opening the starfighter’s windshield. “Mandalore’s not cursed. It was all a lie spread by the Empire to keep the Mandalorians in exile.”

After situating Grogu in his pram and helping R5 back into the starfighter’s droid port, they drew their blasters and cautiously navigated the tunnels, their senses on high alert after Din’s ambush. They found themselves standing on the same cliff overlooking the ruined city, and they both holstered their blasters. “That’s the Civic Center; this is where Bo-Katan said to go.” He wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist. “Hold on tight.”

(Y/N) flung both arms around Din’s neck just as he jumped off the cliff and activated his jetpack, pressing her face against his chestplate to avoid looking down and watching their slow descent. When their feet finally touched the ground, she leaned back far enough to meet the visor of Din’s helmet and sighed. “I still can’t help but think this would be less terrifying if I had my own jetpack.”

“You’re perfectly safe with me, alor’ad.” Her husband suddenly scooped her up so that one arm supported her back while the other curled under the crook of her knees, and she could hear the smile in his voice as she clung tighter to him. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to hold you like this if you had your own jetpack.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and glanced around, realizing that they were standing on a crumbling walkway only halfway down the chasm. “The mines should be further down. I guess we’re on our own from here.”

Grogu babbled in agreement from his pram and Din jumped down from the walkway, the gentle hum of the jetpack echoing off the walls and structures they passed on their way down. When they reached the bottom, Din gently set her down and she drew her blaster as he switched on his helmet’s flashlight; she studied the massive pipes that they walked past and looked down at the water dripping from the walls. “Well, I think it’s safe to assume that these waters lead down to the mines and the Living Waters. We follow the water and we’ll find the mines in no time.”

Din nudged her arm and nodded towards an opening on their left. “Look, that passage heads down.”

They climbed down the slight slope and walked through the opening, silently examining the debris littering the ground. Spotting the familiar t-shaped visor of a Mandalorian helmet poking out of the dirt, Din knelt down and (Y/N) followed as he carefully tugged the sculpted beskar loose; Grogu cooed sadly and (Y/N) rested a comforting hand on her husband’s pauldron, but before either of them could say anything, the earth around them exploded and they were tightly encased in metal brackets. The trap flipped over, pressing Din’s body into (Y/N)’s and her back against the brackets, and two needles stabbed themselves into their necks, causing (Y/N)’s vision to darken and eventually turn black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“…wake up. C’mon, alor’ad, open your eyes for me…please, (Y/N), you’ve gotta open your eyes…”

Groaning in pain, (Y/N) struggled to open her heavy eyes and when she finally succeeded, she was met with the sight of Din’s helmet directly in front of her. “D-Din? What happened?”

“Thank the Maker,” He breathed a sigh of relief. “We were caught in some sort of cyborg’s trap. I saw some beskar helmets when it brought us in here; I think it harvests Mandalorians.”

She was unable to move her head much but she could tell that their bracketed trap was suspended above the ground in a dimly-lit chamber. Before she could ask about Grogu, the cyborg approached their trap and reached a mechanized hand through the brackets to remove Din’s blaster and the Darksaber. It tossed the weapons onto the ground and chattered to itself as it crawled across the chamber; when she could no longer hear it, she shakily released the breath she’d been holding and whispered, “My blaster’s wedged between my back and the brackets, but I can’t move my arms.”

“Neither can I…” Din shifted above her and grunted in annoyance. “I don’t know what that thing injected us with, but my head feels like it’s been trampled by a bantha.”

A quiet shuffling nearby drew his attention and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed at his small gasp. “What is it, Din?”

“Grogu.” They both craned their necks to look at the child, who was standing near the trap and holding a clawed hand out towards them; he closed his eyes and after a moment’s pause, the trap began to shake but it loudly clanged against its control panel, drawing the cyborg’s attention and spurring Din into calling out, “Get to Bo-Katan!”

Grogu jumped out of the way of the electrical blast that the cyborg fired from its staff, leapt into his pram and sped out of the chamber. The cyborg disappeared into a separate area of the chamber, and (Y/N)’s eyes prickled with unshed tears. “He’s gonna be okay. He’s gonna find Bo-Katan, and we’ll be out of this mess in no time.”

“Of course we will,” Din agreed, trying his hardest to keep his voice even and calm. “We’re gonna be fine, alor’ad, I promise.”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure how long it took for her to realize that she was taking shallow breaths or that her limbs were beginning to grow numb but when she did, she couldn’t help but wheeze out a breathless chuckle. “Usually, I’m quite fond of having you on top of me but I think I prefer it without all the beskar.”

Her husband didn’t laugh or make another quip, instead trying to lift some of his weight off of her chest but to no avail. “You need to take slower breaths…regulate your breathing…do that for me, alor’ad?”

Din’s voice was cutting in and out and after (Y/N) blinked hard in an attempt to clear her eyes, she noticed the black dots starting to litter her vision. “D-Din? I can’t…can’t breathe…”

“I know, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I know, but you’ve…eyes open for me, okay? Don’t fall asleep…”

Everything around her began to fade away, from her husband’s panicked voice and the distant creaking of the cyborg to the pain encasing her entire body, and the last thing she did was thank whatever deity that was watching over them that her end was painless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dreams of Naboo and a woman’s mournful yet beautiful singing abruptly ended when (Y/N) gasped for air, her eyes flying open and her hand reaching for her blaster when memories of their capture filled her foggy mind.

“Easy, Captain,” Bo-Katan soothed and held her hands out in a peaceful gesture; the Nite Owl was seated by a small fire beside Grogu, who squealed in delight when he saw that (Y/N) was conscious, and it appeared as though they were back on the cliff that overlooked the ruined Civic Center. “You were out for a while – lack of oxygen mixed with a bad reaction to whatever that thing injected you with – but you’re safe now.”

(Y/N) lowered her blaster and smiled a little when the child hurried over to her and crawled into her lap. “I knew you’d be able to find Bo-Katan. Good job, my little hero.” Hugging Grogu to her chest, she glanced up at Bo-Katan with a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The Nite Owl’s lips curved into a smile and she gestured to the cups she was heating over the fire. “I’m making pog soup; trust me, it’ll make you feel better in no time.”

Grogu cooed in interest and returned to his spot by the fire while (Y/N) looked over at the unconscious Mandalorian lying beside her; his beskar-covered chest was slowly rising and falling and when she realized that he didn’t have any visible injuries, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief before scooting closer to lean over him. “Din?” She placed a hand on the beskar covering his cheek and caressed her thumb along the metal. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”

A moment passed and Din slowly began to stir. “(Y/N)?” His gloved hand moved to hold her waist and gently tug her down into his embrace. “Maker, I thought that you’d…you wouldn’t wake up, and I thought…” He choked up, unable to finish his sentence; his free hand cupped her cheek as she rested her forehead against his in a Keldabe Kiss. “I think I’d prefer having you on top of me from now on, alor’ad.”

(Y/N) let out a watery laugh at that. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad,” Din murmured and took hold of her hand, slipping it beneath the edge of his helmet and pressing his lips against her fingertips.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika riduur.”

With a final smile, (Y/N) sat up and helped the Mandalorian sit next to her, and he finally looked over at where Bo-Katan was preparing the soup by the fire. “What happened?”

The Nite Owl shrugged. “I saved your lives.”

“How did you find us?”

“Your kid.” Bo-Katan smiled and nodded towards Grogu. “He’s tougher than he looks, and he’s quite the navigator.”

Din sat up straighter with (Y/N)’s help. “Thank you for rescuing us.” She nodded again but remained silent as she worked. “You were right: Mandalore is not cursed.”

“Was I?” Bo-Katan asked jadedly. “Look around, there’s nothing left. A great society is now a memory. I once ruled here for a brief time…now, it’s destroyed.” She sighed and stood, handing one cup of soup to (Y/N) and another to Din. “Nothing to cling to but ashes.”

(Y/N) drank her soup and smiled to herself when warmth returned to her limbs, but Din’s helmeted head tilted to the side in confusion as he studied the cup in his hand. “What is this?”

“You’ve never eaten pog soup?”

“…No.”

Bo-Katan chuckled and turned to pack her rations away while Din lifted his helmet up to take a drink; when he had his fill, he gave the rest to Grogu, who downed the soup in record time. “Can you appreciate the irony? Any Mandalorian worth their armor was raised on this since they were his size.” Din slowly got to his feet and (Y/N) followed, picking the child up and placing him in his pram while Din retrieved his weapons. “You should rest. I’ll get you all back to my ship soon enough.”

“I’m not going with you.”

The Nite Owl frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I must continue to the Mines of Mandalore so that I may be redeemed.”

“We must continue,” (Y/N) corrected and met the visor of his helmet with a firm stare. “We’re not letting you go back down there by yourself.”

Din sighed but nodded in agreement as an exasperated Bo-Katan rolled her eyes. “I honestly think it’s adorable that you actually believe these children’s stories, but there is nothing magic about the waters.”

“Without the Creed, what are we? What do we stand for?” The Mandalorian demanded, reattaching his jetpack while (Y/N) patted Grogu’s wrinkled head. “Our people are scattered like stars in the galaxy; the Creed is how we survived. You rescued my wife and myself and I’ll always be in your debt, but I can’t – we can’t – go with you until I fulfill my obligation.”

Bo-Katan took a deep breath. “I will take you.”

(Y/N) arched a brow in surprise. “To the Living Waters?”

“Yes. You’ll never find them on your own…not in all this wreckage.”

Din exchanged a brief look with (Y/N) before giving the Nite Owl a nod. “Thank you.”

She smiled humorlessly. “Don’t thank me until you see them.”

They stomped out the fire and once Din scooped (Y/N) into his arms, they stepped off the cliff and flew down to the bottom of the chasm. Hopefully we won’t stumble across any more surprises, she thought to herself as she drew her blaster and walked between the two Mandalorians down a pathway.

“It’s hard to believe that this all was once filled with our kind…”

“It wasn’t that long ago,” Bo-Katan replied, her gloved fingers tightening around the helmet she carried against her hip. “You’d never know it, looking at all this destruction.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “It looks like it’s been centuries. While I was in the Rebellion, I saw many of the cities and planets destroyed by the Empire, but none of them looked quite like this.”

“The Empire set out to punish us Mandalorians, to wipe away our memory.”

With her heart filling with sympathy for the Nite Owl walking beside her, (Y/N) quietly remarked, “It must pain you to see it like this after witnessing its beauty.”

Bo-Katan spared her a brief glance. “What pains me is seeing our own kind fight one another time and time again. Killing each other for reasons too confusion to explain. It made us weak; we had no hope to resist being smashed by the fist of the Empire.” Din shifted uncomfortably, no doubt reminded that the Children of the Watch had broken away first and were not there in Mandalore’s time of need, and (Y/N) gave his hand a comforting squeeze as Bo-Katan pointed at a crevice in the rock ahead. “There. The entrance to the Mines of Mandalore.”

They followed the Nite Owl into the crevice and after (Y/N)’s eyes adjusted when she tossed a hovering light sphere into the air above them, she glanced around the space in interest. “This area looks much older.”

“The mines have been here for thousands of years,” Bo-Katan replied. “The Living Waters are in the chambers below.”

It was then that Din finally spoke up. “Have you been there?”

“Yes, when I was a child.”

“Really?”

A small smile began to play across Bo-Katan’s face. “I was part of the royal family. I took the Creed and was showered with gifts, but the rituals were all just theatre for our subjects. They loved watching the princess recite the Mandalorian tenets as her father looked on proudly.” She snorted in amusement. “Such a heartwarming spectacle.”

“Maybe he was proud,” Din speculated, and (Y/N) knew it was more for Bo-Katan’s sake than his own.

“I know he was. I didn’t embarrass him in front of everyone.”

The tunnel was silent for a moment before Din spoke again. “Your father sounds like an interesting man. I would’ve liked to have known him.”

“He was a great man.” Bo-Katan swallowed thickly and kept her gaze trained ahead. “He died defending Mandalore.”

Din stopped in his tracks, leading (Y/N) and the Nite Owl to stop walking and Grogu’s pram to hover in the air nearby, and he bowed his head in respect. “This is the Way.”

They continued down the tunnel, the silence amongst their small group accompanied only by the steady dripping of water. As they walked, (Y/N) thought about Bo-Katan’s glowing praise of her father and felt a familiar pang in her chest; she’d never known her own father – not even his name – and all her mother told her was that it was because of his choice that he wasn’t in their lives. When she was a child, she often wondered what her father was like and grew envious of the other children in her town who had two parents, and when she was a teenager and already suffered her mother’s untimely death, that childlike curiosity soured and turned to anger. Now that she was grown, the fiery anger was gone and had been replaced by an empty feeling, not quite sadness but a little like grief. Grief for the little girl who was forced to fend for herself after the only person in the galaxy who loved her passed away, grief for the young woman who spent years alone with only her pain and fury for company, and grief for the woman who would never have the chance to introduce her honorable husband and adoptive son to a father filled with pride for his daughter.

“Alor’ad? Everything okay?”

(Y/N) blinked and gave Din a brief smile. “Yep, just lost in thought.”

The Mandalorian’s gloved hand tightened around hers, keeping her grounded in the present and focused on the end of tunnel as it widened to reveal a massive chamber filled with inky-black water that was smooth as glass. “Here you go: The Living Waters. I want you two to get the full tour.” Bo-Katan chuckled and walked over to a tarnished plaque on the wall. “‘These mines date back to the age of the first Mandalore. According to ancient folklore, the mines were once a Mythosaur lair; Mandalore the Great is said to have tamed the mythical beast. It is from these legends that the skull signet was adopted and became the symbol of our planet.’”

While Bo-Katan teasingly read from the plaque, Din and (Y/N) stood by the steps that led down into the waters; she looked over at her husband and although she couldn’t see his face, she could tell from the way he stared out at the waters that he was overcome with emotion. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Din silently nodded and went about removing his cowl, weapons and jetpack, setting them down on the stone floor and turning back to (Y/N); he leaned down and gave her a lingering Keldabe Kiss before slowly descending the steps into the waters. “I swear on my name and the names of the Ancestors…” (Y/N) anxiously bit her lip and both Bo-Katan and Grogu moved closer as the water quickly covered Din’s boots. “That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…” The water soon encased his torso. “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

Just as Din finished reciting the Mandalorian Creed and (Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed, he dropped down into the waters and entirely disappeared from view. “Din!” Bo-Katan quickly put her helmet on and jumped into the waters after him while Grogu wailed in alarm. “It’s okay, little guy, your dad’s gonna be okay…” She scooped the child into her arms and held him close, worry filling her heart as she stared down at the inky-black waters that were meant to redeem her husband, not condemn him.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Four
The Convert

Din’s eyes flew open and he turned his head to cough up the water he’d accidentally swallowed, barely aware of the hands holding his helmeted head steady and the concerned coos nearby.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re all right. Just breathe…” (Y/N) soothed, adjusting herself so that his head could rest more comfortably on her lap; although the worried line that often formed between her brows was still present, the captain smiled down at him as she continued. “You did it, Din.”

Grogu nodded in agreement and after slowly sitting up with his wife’s assistance, Din looked out at the Living Waters they were seated before and started to regain his breath; he felt lighter, somehow, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and his lips curved into a disbelieving grin when he realized what that meant. “I am redeemed.”

“We witnessed it,” Bo-Katan remarked from her spot across the chamber. “You bathed in the Living Waters. You are a Mandalorian again.” She abruptly stood and began walking towards the tunnel that they came through. “Can we leave now?”

Instead of answering, Din took an empty vial from the pouch at his waist and leaned down, scooping up a fair amount of water and fastening its stopper onto it before tucking it back into his pouch. When he ascended the stone steps, (Y/N) helped him reattach his jetpack and wrap his cowl around his neck. “Grogu, we’re leaving now; can you get into your pram for me, please?” The child leapt into the pram and (Y/N) smiled as she clipped the Darksaber onto Din’s belt for him. “Thank you.”

“And thank you, alor’ad,” Din murmured, placing his hands on her waist and stepping closer to her. “I could never have done this without you.”

“I’m not so sure of that, sweetheart, but you’re welcome.” With another smile, (Y/N) cupped the sides of his helmet and tilted his head down to kiss the beskar covering his forehead.

Bo-Katan turned back to face them and tilted her helmeted head to the side. “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“You see anything down there?”

Din frowned and shook his head. “I saw the chasm passing me as I fell. I didn’t realize it was so deep.”

“It wasn’t; the bombings from the Purge must’ve triggered seismic activities.” The Nite Owl absentmindedly brushed her gloved hands off. “Did you see anything alive?”

(Y/N) looked up from rolling her coat sleeves to fix Bo-Katan with a curious stare. “Alive? Like what?”

“Nothing,” She shook her head and started towards the tunnel again. “Let’s get out of here.”

Din and (Y/N) exchanged a glance before following the Mandalorian through the network of tunnels, confused by her strange questions and unsure of why she was acting so odd after jumping into the Living Waters after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On board the Gauntlet, Bo-Katan’s Kom’rk-class starfighter, Din watched (Y/N) carefully clean off the scuffs R5 obtained during their lively adventure on Mandalore with a tender grin on his covered face while the Nite Owl flew them back to Kalevala. Grogu fiddled with his small silver sphere as they exited Mandalore’s upper atmosphere and flew through space, and Din decided to be the one to break the oddly-stilted silence.

“Once you bring us to our ship, we’ll be on our way. You will forever have our gratitude.”

He could hear the smile in Bo-Katan’s voice when she replied, “I would invite you all in for a feast, but I’m guessing that helmet isn’t coming off again.”

Din nodded. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

From his pram, Grogu babbled something that sounded suspiciously like an attempt to form words and Din turned around in surprise; (Y/N)’s eyes were widened in shock but before either of them could say anything, the Gauntlet shook as a blaster cannon found its target and they could see the brief explosion from the viewport. “We took a hit!”

“Something’s coming up on us fast,” Bo-Katan called out as she read the starfighter’s console. “It looks like a squadron of TIE Interceptors.”

(Y/N) leapt up from her seat and hurried over to the nearest monitor. “How close are we to Kalevala?”

“Not far.”

“Get us back there and I’ll reinforce from the N-1.” The captain’s eyes forced on the charts she was scanning as she continued. “Trust me, those TIE Interceptors won’t last long against a Mandalorian and a retired Alliance Starfleet captain.”

Din looked up from his own monitor towards the Nite Owl. “Can you evade them?”

She nodded and increased power to the starfighter’s thrusters. “Our shields aren’t gonna hold; I need you to back them off!”

The Gauntlet shuddered again as Din crossed over to the rear gunner’s seat and began firing at the closest TIE Interceptors. “Where’d they come from?”

“I’ve scugged off a lot of Imperial warlords.”

Din sighed in exasperation and continued firing their rear blaster cannon at their enemies. “They tend to get mad when you hijack their ships.”

He could hear the humor lacing Bo-Katan’s voice as she replied, “Now you tell me.” They entered Kalevala’s upper atmosphere and sped through its grey-hued skies, spinning and twirling to avoid enemy fire and save their flimsy shields. “Get ready, we’re comin’ in hot!”

“Dank farrik, you won’t be able to slow down for the drop,” (Y/N) swore and moved to clutch the back of Din’s seat while another hit shook the starfighter. “I don’t remember Interceptors being this much tougher than TIE Fighters.”

“Din, do you have any bright ideas for the transfer that won’t inadvertently kill the captain?”

“Yeah, I’ll fly her down to the N-1 and she can take over from there,” Din answered, blowing up two of the Interceptors before standing and pulling (Y/N) to stand beside the Gauntlet’s bomb bay. “Hold on tight, okay, alor’ad?”

His wife nervously bit her lip but nodded, tightly wrapping her arms around him while he pressed the button to activate the bomb bay doors; once he was certain that her grip on him was secure, he jumped through the bomb bay and free-fell through the wind-swept air. The TIE Interceptors sped overhead after the Gauntlet as Bo-Katan flew towards Kalevala’s high peaks and cliffs and as the castle’s landing pad grew closer, Din activated his jetpack and straightened them both in preparation for touchdown; their landing was less than grateful, with the both of them rolling across the landing pad, but they were quick to jump up and climb into the starfighter’s cockpit while a lone TIE Interceptor began to fire at them. “Brace yourself,” (Y/N) distractedly ordered as she started the engines and slammed the windshield closed, not waiting for an answer before wrenching the controls and shooting off into a perpendicular take-off.

“Persistent, isn’t he?” Din remarked, glancing over his shoulder to see the TIE Interceptor following their climb into the skies of Kalevala.

(Y/N) huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Not for long.” She switched off the engines and let the starfighter fall backwards, turning the engines back on to maneuver into a corkscrew spin that dodged the TIE Interceptor’s blaster cannons; firing a single shot, (Y/N) steered the starfighter out of its nosedive while avoiding the burning wreckage of the Imperial ship, calling into the communication radio, “We made it to the N-1. Heading to you.”

They sped off towards the planet’s many cliffs and navigated a narrow canyon, coming up behind the three TIE Interceptors pursuing the Gauntlet and shooting one of them down. “Thanks for the back-up.”

“Two more to go.”

When they started to approach more outcroppings of peaks emerging from the waters, Bo-Katan ordered through the communication radio, “Go right, I’ll meet you on the other side.”

(Y/N) did as the Nite Owl said, veering right behind a towering rock formation and emerging just in time to shoot down one of the TIE Interceptors unsuspectingly flying past. “One down, one more to go.”

“On it.”

They watched as Bo-Katan suddenly switched off her starfighter’s engines and spun around, shooting the last TIE Interceptor out of the sky and turning her engines back on just before they reached the choppy waters; when she caught up to their starfighter, (Y/N) remarked, “It’s nice to see someone share my appreciation for semi-dangerous flying stunts.”

“Same. Not bad, Captain…for an antique.”

“You take any damage?” Din asked.

“Just shields. You?”

“Not a scratch,” (Y/N) replied, and he could detect the amusement in her tone as she continued. “Not bad for an antique, huh?”

The Nite Owl chuckled. “Touché, Captain, but let’s take ‘em in just to be sure.”

Just as (Y/N) was beginning to relax against Din’s chest, the enemy proximity warning indicator sounded throughout the cockpit. “Hang on, we’re seeing something on the scope.” Din’s eyes flicked up from the scope and glanced out the windshield, his heart sinking into his stomach when he caught sight of the plumes of smoke and fire coming from the direction of Bo-Katan’s castle. “Dank farrik…”

“No!” Both ships flew over the peaks in time to see three TIE Interceptors finish dropping explosives onto the smoldering castle and fly away. “Those mud-scuffers bombed my home!”

Bo-Katan pursued the three ships and began firing on them without mercy as the starfighter’s enemy proximity warning indicator went off again. “Shit…” (Y/N) breathed in horror when more and more TIE Fighters fly through Kalevala’s upper atmosphere. “Bo, we’ve got company!”

The Nite Owl didn’t heed the captain’s warning, so Din tried his hand at talking her down. “Bo, listen to me, you have to get out of there!”

When she didn’t answer, (Y/N) increased their speed and flew through the narrowing gap between the Gauntlet and the squadron of TIE Fighters in an attempt to grab her attention. “There’s too many of them, we’ve got to get out of here!”

Din breathed a sigh of relief when Bo-Katan finally peeled away and followed them up into the clouds, and he started pressing buttons on the console while (Y/N) continued piloting. “That’s a lot of ships for an Imperial warlord.”

“We’re sending jump coordinates.”

“To where?”

“Someplace they won’t find us,” Din replied and when he finished sending the planet’s coordinates to the Gauntlet, he rested a gloved hand on his worried wife’s waist. “Once I prove that I’m no longer an apostate, the Covert will help us however way they can.”

The tension in (Y/N)’s shoulders didn’t loosen until both of their ships left Kalevala and entered hyperspace, and it was then that she leaned against his chest in exhaustion and nodded. “I sure hope so.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their trip through hyperspace – although relatively short – caused the worn-out captain to fall fast asleep, so Din took over the controls when their ships switched to sub-light travel and flew them down through the familiar planet’s upper atmosphere; they’d had a long and trying day, of course, and he was simply glad that she was getting the rest that she’d sorely needed.

“I’m bringing you to a Mandalorian covert,” Din quietly explained through the communication radio as both ships flew over the rocky mountain ranges. “This is how we have survived in exile.”

“I’m familiar.”

He worriedly bit his lip and thought over how best to broach the subject of the Way to Bo-Katan before stating, “It’s a secret location and you are my guest…”

“They still live by the old ways.”

“Yes. It will go smoother of you keep your helmet on. Trust me.”

Over the communication radio, he could make out the Nite Owl’s incredulous scoff. “Of course.”

Din initiated the starfighter’s landing sequence and as they began their descent, he gently shook (Y/N)’s shoulders and murmured, “Alor’ad? Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, we’re here now.”

“Mm-hmm.” With a tired yawn, (Y/N) started to stir and took a moment to rub the sleep out of her eyes before glancing over her shoulder with a small smile. “Thank you for taking over the controls for me, sweetheart.”

His gloved finger brushed an errant strand of hair out of her face and caressed her cheek. “You needed the sleep; if the covert accepts my redemption, we will be granted living quarters and both you and Grogu will finally be able to rest.”

“You too, Din,” (Y/N) lightly chided, the knowing looking her gaze causing him to let out a relenting sigh. “You’ve had a difficult journey that has more than earned you some relaxation. Besides, I seem to remember you offering to show me how much you appreciated my superior piloting skills.”

That made Din chuckle and shake his helmeted head in exasperation. “I don’t remember saying anything about them being ‘superior,’ but you’re correct, I did make a promise and believe me, I still fully intend on seeing it through.”

The starfighter landed and they climbed down from the cockpit, walking along the shore of the lake to join Bo-Katan and Grogu and continue towards the mouth of the cave. A group of Mandalorians, led by Paz Vizsla, emerged and formed a blockade to halt their progress, and the towering Mandalorian was the first to speak. “Come no further. You are an apostate, Din Djarin.”

Din shook his head. “No longer. I have been to the Mines of Mandalore.”

“Impossible. The mines were collapsed in the Purge, the planet is cursed.”

“These are lies meant to keep us in exile,” Din insisted, noticing several Mandalorians exchanging glances with one another and hearing their faint whispers.

Unlike the others, Paz remained unconvinced. “How do we know that it is not you who is lying?”

(Y/N) took a step forward and bravely stared down the much-larger Mandalorian before her. “Because I was there with him. It was a dangerous journey, but we were able to navigate the ruins of Sundari and reach the Mines of Mandalore.”

“The word of an apostate’s riduur means nothing to us.”

As Din’s hand wrapped around the indignant captain’s arm to keep her from angrily starting forward, Bo-Katan interjected, “They speak the truth. I was witness.”

Paz’s helmeted head tilted to the side as he considered her for a moment. “And who are you, Nite Owl?”

“I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze.”

The hushed conversations amongst the Mandalorians seemingly intensified and Din could see the Nite Owl attempting to hide her discomfort while Paz scoffed. “Your House has fallen from the Way. You are both apostates.”

“We have been to the Living Waters.” Din’s teeth were gritted in impatience and he reached into his belt’s pouch to pull out the vial of water he’d taken before they departed Mandalore. “I bring proof.”

Paz was silent for a long moment, considering their words and the vial in Din’s grasp before eventually speaking. “We shall see.” He stepped aside and Din nodded shortly, leading the others into the cave and through the tunnels to the Armorer’s forge; his hand traveled down to slip into (Y/N)’s and Grogu softly cooed from his pram, and the knowledge that his family was beside him gave him the strength to walk into the forge and stand across from the Armorer as she worked. The rest of the Mandalorians filtered into the cavernous forge and Paz stepped forward. “Din Djarin claims to have bathed in the Living Waters.”

The Armorer remained focused on her work as she asked, “Is this true?”

“It is. I have proof.”

She slowly turned around and held a gloved hand out; while he crossed the room and placed the vial into her hand, (Y/N) stood beside Bo-Katan and addressed the covert’s de-facto leader. “We were witness. He fell into the depths and Bo pulled him out.”

The Armorer took the vial of water to the forge’s trough and after removing its cork, she held it above the still water and slowly poured its contents out; the trough’s water briefly shimmered with a ripple of blue light before returning to its normal state, albeit brighter than before. “He speaks the truth. These are indeed the Living Waters.” She turned around and the visor of her horned helmet met his. “Din Djarin, you are redeemed. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” The other Mandalorians echoed while (Y/N)’s hands squeezed one of his own.

“And Bo-Katan Kryze, by Creed, you too are redeemed.”

The three of them looked over at the Armorer in surprise and the Nite Owl shifted in discomfort. “…But I do not walk the Way.”

Din’s brow furrowed as he watched the Armorer slowly cross the forge. “Did you bathe in the waters?”

“I did.”

“And have you removed your helmet since?”

Bo-Katan shook her head. “No, I have not.”

“Then you may join our covert and live as your ancestors once did,” The Armorer concluded. “You may leave anytime you wish. Until then, you are one of us. Welcome, Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

The Mandalorians gathered around Din and Bo-Katan, clapping them on the shoulders to welcome them both into their covert, and Din couldn’t help but to breathe a sigh of relief; his brothers and sisters-in-arms, the only family he’d truly known, hadn’t rejected his redemption and he was free to raise his foundling as a true Mandalorian. In his near-elated state, he hadn’t noticed (Y/N) moving to stand near the cavern’s wall alongside Grogu’s pram but once he did, he immediately registered the conflicted expression she was struggling to hide behind a happy smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just as Din predicted, they were given living quarters within the covert’s tunneled-out home and plenty of food for the three of them; Grogu finished his rations in record-time and promptly fell asleep in his closed pram, and both Din and (Y/N) were finally able to enjoy an evening of peaceful calm that resulted in their tired limbs tightly intertwined around one another and lazy caresses along their heated skin.

“I’ve missed this,” Din murmured, his bare fingers tracing (Y/N)’s cheekbone and caressing the smile lines etched into the skin around the corner of her eye. “I’ve missed being able to see your beautiful face with my own eyes.”

The captain smiled and continued mapping out the many raised scars that littered his chest with her soft fingertips. “The last place we were able to be with one another like this was on Naboo. It feels like ages ago…” She bit her lip, an anxious gesture that told him that something was weighing on her mind, and she was silent for a moment before finally speaking up. “Can I ask you a question, Din?”

“Of course. What is it, alor’ad?”

“How’re you able to forgive your covert so easily for exiling you, and how are they able to move past everything like it didn’t happen?”

Din’s fingers stilled as he considered his wife’s questions. “I suppose it wouldn’t make much sense to someone who wasn’t raised as a Mandalorian, but…This is the Way. After the Purge, our people are smaller in numbers than we’ve ever been before and if we were to stop following the Way, then the Empire would’ve succeeded in killing us off and burying our culture forever.” He rolled onto his back and studied the jagged rocks that made up their bedroom ceiling. “The Creed teaches us redemption, that there’s always a path back for those who lose the Way; I sought to redeem myself in the eyes of my brothers and sisters-in-arms and when I succeeded, they were bound by our Creed to accept my redemption. It’s our mutual respect and honor for the Way that allowed me to forgive them and for them to welcome me back with open arms.”

Scooting closer, (Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder and draped an arm around his waist. “I may not understand the Way like you do, but I can see that this covert’s your family. Family can be challenging, but they still forgive one another.” The bedroom was filled with a heavy silence and while Din patiently waited for her to continue, he trailed his fingers up and down her spine. “Before you and Grogu came along, I hadn’t had a family since I was twelve years old. The loneliness I experienced is something that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy; I’m just…I’m glad that you were never forced to live like that.”

The slight tremble in the captain’s voice as she uttered those words and the way that her arm tightened around his waist nearly made his heart break; he recalled the thoughts he’d had back on Nevarro about his wife’s turbulent past and while they’d filled him with a sense of sadness, it was nothing compared to hearing her speak on them herself. “I know they’re not what some would consider to be a normal family, but this covert…if you give them a chance, you’ll see how loyal and embracing they are towards their own.” Din brought his free hand up to coax her into looking at him. “And through our riduurok, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, you are now their own. This is the Way.”

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears as she smiled and propped herself up to capture his lips in a slow and passionate kiss.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Five
The Foundling

The day after they arrived at the Mandalorian covert and were welcomed into their ranks, (Y/N) found herself to be the center of attention for the covert’s younger members and even a handful of the adults. They hadn’t grown up around non-Mandalorians and were rarely exposed to cultures outside of their own, so it was understandable that they were drawn to her and wanted to learn as much as they could about her adventurous life; while the rest of the covert ran through their drills – shooting, flying, climbing and hand-to-hand combat techniques – on the shore of the great lake, several young apprentices managed to sneak away from their training to visit (Y/N), who was working on tuning up their N-1 Starfighter after all the recent battles it had gone through.

“Is this starfighter really from Naboo?”

(Y/N) smiled and gave the red-helmeted girl a nod before continuing to tighten one of the engines’ loose bolts. “Mm-hmm, they were once originally commissioned by the Queen of Naboo. Din and I bought this one on Tatooine and after a little bit of work, it flies better than it ever did when it was brand new.”

An older boy lifted one of the younger ones so that he could see into the open cockpit. “Have you been flying long?”

“Since I was about his age,” She gestured to the boy he’d just set back down and grabbed a bundle of steel wool to begin scrubbing at the carbon scoring near the droid port. “I actually first learned to fly in an old starfighter just like this one.”

“Can you teach us how to fly?”

“Um…”

(Y/N) was spared from answering by an older Mandalorian, who approached them with his arms crossed over his beskar-covered chest. “It is time to focus on your drills now, young ones.” The group of children bid her goodbye and the older Mandalorian gave her a nod before following them back towards the active part of the shoreline.

“You’re pretty popular around here.”

She glanced over to see Bo-Katan leaning against the side of the starfighter. “With the kids, sure, but I’m not too certain about the adults; it’s hard to get a read on people who cover their faces and don’t speak unless they have to.”

The Nite Owl shrugged noncommittally. “They like you. They’re just taking the time to feel you out before they start opening up around you.” She looked past (Y/N) and chuckled. “Speaking of the kids, I think that husband of yours is trying to introduce your foundling to the drills.”

(Y/N) turned around and looked across the crowded shoreline to see Din placing Grogu down on the sand outside the semicircle of Mandalorians watching two children wrestle; she tossed the bundle of steel wool aside and marched down the beach towards the pair, reaching them just as the boy wearing a blue-colored helmet won his match. “Din, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“If he is ever to rise from foundling to apprentice, he must learn.” Her husband looked up and over at her, and she could hear the gentle reassurance in his modulated voice when he quietly added, “He’ll be okay, alor’ad. I promise.”

“He’s not the one that I’m worried about,” (Y/N) mumbled back, causing Bo-Katan to snort in amusement as she joined them at the edge of the gathering. The only real training that Grogu received to hone his skills with the Force came from his brief time with Luke Skywalker, and (Y/N) often wondered if the child had truly gotten enough instruction with the Jedi; she didn’t want him to overexert himself or accidentally hurt someone while using the Force, and she wasn’t exactly keen on him trying his powers out on an unsuspecting Mandalorian apprentice only a day after they’d been welcomed into the covert.

Din raised a gloved hand. “Judge!” One of the older Mandalorians turned and strode across the semicircle to stand before them. “He challenges.”

The judge glanced down at Grogu, who cooed in curiosity, before looking back up at Din. “He is too small.”

“I am his ward. Proceed.”

The judge turned to (Y/N) and after she gave him a nod, he asked, “What weapon?”

Din nodded towards the boy with the blue-colored helmet. “Let the challenged decide.”

The young apprentice crossed his arms over his chest and defiantly stared down at his small challenger. “Darts.”

“Bring the training darts!”

As another Mandalorian left to fetch the practice weapons, the boy tilted his helmeted head to the side. “Why doesn’t he wear a helmet?”

“He is too young to speak the Creed,” Din patiently explained. “And so, too young to wear a helmet.”

“Then he’s too young to fight.”

(Y/N) arched a brow at the boy’s blatant attitude and bit her lip to keep from retorting, but her husband had no compunction about countering his pointed words. “‘One does not speak unless one knows.’ Is that not the Creed?”

The boy shrugged his shoulder. “Well, I know.”

“Perhaps this lesson is for you, then.”

The defensive edge to the Mandalorian’s modulated voice as he verbally sparred with the apprentice forced (Y/N) to clear her throat to mask her chuckles. The judge’s assistant returned with a metal box and promptly handed it over. “The training darts.”

Kneeling on the sand, the judge set the box down and opened its lid. “Fighters, arm yourselves.”

Bo-Katan volunteered to help Grogu prepare for his match, taking one of the devices and kneeling before him to fasten it around his tiny wrist. “Don’t worry, my dad was the same way. He’s just proud of you.”

“We both are,” (Y/N) added, bending over to roll up the cuff of his sleeve and affectionately rub his large ear. “You take it easy on him, little guy. Okay?”

Grogu babbled in response and when both women moved to stand on either side of Din, the judge took a step forward. “Each has three darts. You may fire the darts in any order. Each direct hit scores one point. A mark must be visible to score. One round, highest score wins.”

When the child looked uncertainly over his shoulder at them, Din crouched down and mimed what to do for his benefit. “Squeeze your fist to launch the darts.” Grogu cooed and Din nodded. “You’ll be fine.”

“He doesn’t know how to fire darts?” Bo-Katan quietly asked, and (Y/N) could imagine that her eyes were widening in disbelief beneath her beskar helmet.

“He’s got this,” Din reassured her as he straightened and rested a gloved hand against the small of (Y/N)’s back. “Trust me.”

The judge stepped back to give both combatants their space. “Ready…begin!” Quick as a flash, the apprentice fired a dart and hit Grogu directly in the chest, its yellow paint splattering across his robe and drawing an indignant squeal from the child. “Point!”

Grogu looked over his shoulder at Din in obvious displeasure, but he merely shrugged and gestured towards the apprentice. “Don’t look at me, look at him.”

“Ready…begin!” The apprentice’s second dart hit Grogu’s chest. “Point!”

(Y/N) impulsively took a knee. “Grogu?” She gave the child a patient smile when he turned around to face her and she quietly continued. “I’ve seen what you can do. It’s okay, show them.”

Grogu cooed and his large eyes gleamed in understanding as she got to her feet, and he turned back around to stare down his opponent. “Ready…begin!” The apprentice fired his third dart but Grogu leapt out of its way, flipping over the young Mandalorian’s head and immediately flipping back around to face him; he took advantage of his opponent’s disorientation and fired all three of his darts, hitting him in the center of his chest and stunning every Mandalorian in the vicinity. “Three points. Winner!”

“There you go!” Din exclaimed with a prideful edge to his modulated voice.

While the Mandalorians surrounding them applauded Grogu’s win, (Y/N) scooped the child up into her arms and pressed kisses across his smiling face. “You were wonderful, little guy! You keep it up, and you’ll be an apprentice in no time!”

Bo-Katan nodded appreciatively and looked over at them. “Did you guys teach him that?”

“Not us.” Din wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and gave Grogu’s ear an affectionate rub. “Great job, kid.”

As Grogu cooed and babbled in her arms, (Y/N) tentatively prodded the half-stained paint splatters on the front of his robes. “I hope this paint doesn’t stain.”

“It doesn’t. As his ward, it’s my responsibility to wash his training robes…” Din pointed to the seam of his sleeve and the loosening stitches. “Just so long as you handle the sewing.”

“Dank farrik, I just repaired that seam. I-”

A child’s scream caused them all to turn around and they watched in horror as the apprentice that Grogu just defeated was snatched off the lakeshore by a swooping raptor and carried away. Din drew his blaster to shoot the creature down, but Paz appeared out of nowhere and lowered his arm before he could. “No blasters, it will kill the child! Follow it to its lair!”

While the older Mandalorians ushered the children into the tunnels, both Mandalorians took to the sky and were soon joined by two more. Knowing that their jetpacks would eventually run out of fuel, (Y/N) exchanged a look with Bo-Katan and both women sprinted towards their respective ships, with the Nite Owl running up the Gauntlet’s ramp and (Y/N) climbing into the N-1’s cockpit; she allowed Grogu to sit on her lap as she piloted the starfighter after the raptor and the Mandalorians.

“It’s flying down into the ravine,” Bo-Katan’s voice called through the communication radio. “Keep tailing it and I’ll follow from above.”

“I’m on it.” (Y/N) steered the starfighter into the narrow and winding ravine and spared Grogu a comforting pat on the head when he let out a worried coo. “It’s okay, little guy, we’ll get him back.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the bottom of the ravine and she bit her lip when she realized that the Mandalorians had all run out of fuel and were grounded. “Son of a mud-scuffer. Looks like you and I are on our own, Bo.”

“We’ll do a loose follow and stay up high, that way it’ll hopefully lead us to its lair.”

(Y/N) eased the controls up and joined the Gauntlet as it flew just above the clouds; while they followed after the raptor, she prayed to the Maker that the young Mandalorian child would make it back home to his covert alive and unharmed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After an hour of flying, the raptor finally returned to its nest but because of their unpreparedness to carry out a rescue mission, (Y/N) and Bo-Katan were forced to turn around and fly back to the covert with only a set of coordinates. They landed on the shoreline and several Mandalorians hurried out of the cave to hear their news, including Din, the Armorer and Paz Vizsla.

“We kept a high altitude and followed it to its lair,” (Y/N) remarked as they joined the group of Mandalorians, passing Grogu over to Din and giving the unarmored part of his arm a reassuring squeeze. “We know how to get there.”

Bo-Katan glanced around at the other Mandalorians. “We should muster up a hunting party and go after him.” After exchanging a look with Paz, the Armorer followed the Nite Owl into the Gauntlet while the three of them trailed behind, stepping into the ship as she pulled up a holographic map. “Captain (Y/L/N) scouted where it lives and I mapped the location.” She pointed a gloved finger at the top of one of the planet’s highest peaks. “There. The nest.”

“It flew a long way,” Din remarked as they all studied the map before them.

“I will go get him.”

“The mountains are too high,” Paz pointed out. “If we use jetpacks, the beast will hear.”

The Armorer nodded in agreement. “It would kill the child.”

“These are no higher than the peaks of Kyrimorut; I used to climb them in basic training.” Bo-Katan’s modulated voice was filled with self-assurance as she continued. “I’ll fly to the foothills, scale the rest of the way on foot.”

Din gave her a firm nod. “I’ll join you.”

“So will I.” The other four all looked over at (Y/N) at the same time, and she forced herself not to shrink under their scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

“Alor’ad, I’m not sure that this mission will be safe for you,” Her husband gently remarked. “You don’t wear beskar armor, so you’ll have no protection, and the climb will be challenging for even a highly-trained Mandalorian to complete.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders sagged as she absorbed his words and after a moment, she nodded and gave him a fleeting smile. “You’re right. I’d only slow you down, and you need all the time you can get to rescue that boy.”

As Din reached out to touch her but thought better of it and dropped his gloved hand, the Armorer looked at Paz standing beside her. “Paz Vizsla, enjoin the Shriek-hawk Training team to accompany you. I will pack extended lariats for your launchers; we must avoid explosives and blasters for the safety of the foundling.”

While the Mandalorians all prepared for the rescue mission, (Y/N) helped Grogu change into a clean robe and watched the warriors file into the Gauntlet with a heavy heart; in the rest of the galaxy, there wasn’t much that she couldn’t do using all the skills she spent most of her life honing but living among the Mandalorians, she couldn’t help but feel useless. They were fighters, trained from birth in the art of warfare and weaponry, and everything that she could do they could do with their eyes closed and a hand tied behind their back. They hadn’t discussed it yet but (Y/N) knew that Din would want to stay with the covert now that he was no longer an apostate, which would allow him to train Grogu as a Mandalorian but also meant that the inadequacy she felt would only come to intensify. It’s only been one day, she silently reasoned with herself, maybe things will begin to look better the longer you stay here.

(Y/N) and Grogu said their goodbyes to Din, both stoically watching the Gauntlet take off and fly through the sky towards the raptor’s far-off nest. “You are unequipped to join them.” The Armorer moved to stand beside them and although her helmet’s visor was fixed on the retreating starfighter in the distance, (Y/N) could still feel the heavy weight of her gaze on her. “And you are too young to join them.” Grogu cooed and the Armorer looked down at him. “All in good time. Come, Captain (Y/L/N) and Grogu. If you both wish to understand the Way of the Mandalore, there is much work to attend to.”

While the Armorer walked back into the cave, (Y/N) exchanged a look with Grogu and jutted her chin towards the wide crevice in the rock. “It’s okay, little guy. A little learning will do us both some good.”

They both entered the tunnels and followed the Armorer to her cavernous forge, finding her as she stood heating a ladle of molten beskar over the open flame of the cryo-furnace. Grogu waddled ahead and climbed to sit on the nearby bench, and (Y/N) carefully studied the Mandalorian as she sat beside him. “This is the Forge. It is the heart of Mandalorian culture.” She carried the ladle across the chamber and carefully poured the molten beskar into two molds. “Just as we shape the Mandalorian steel, we shape ourselves. We all begin as raw ore…” Crossing back to the forge, she heated a flattened circle of beskar and continued. “We refine ourselves through trials and adversity.” The child whimpered when the Armorer suspended the circle below the forge’s hammering mechanism and (Y/N) took one of his tiny clawed hands between her fingers. “The Forge can reveal weaknesses.”

Grogu flinched when the device pounded down onto the beskar and before (Y/N) could ask what was wrong, the forge around her faded away and was replaced with the sight of a door being forced open by blaster fire; the pounding of blaster bolts against the door was joined by the electric cackling of lightsabers as brown-robed Jedi came into view.

“Get him to Kelleran!” One of the Jedi shouted and the door burst open to reveal a garrison of Clone Troopers; they fired their blasters into the hall and while some of the Jedi were able to deflect the bolts, two were hit and collapsed onto the ground. The remaining two Jedi blocked Grogu’s pram as they defeated the garrison and led the way down a different hall, but more Clone Troopers appeared and the two Jedi were overwhelmed. “The elevator! Get the youngling to Kelleran! Go!”

The female Jedi used the Force to shove Grogu’s pram into an open elevator and was shot as she hurried in after him; her body lay motionless on the elevator floor and (Y/N) could sense Grogu’s fear while the elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open to reveal another Jedi, with intricately-embroidered robes and an expression of grim determination on his face as he lowered his green-colored lightsaber and addressed the child. “Everything’s gonna be all right, kid.”

Kelleran picked up his fallen comrade’s lightsaber hilt and ignited it, turning around just in time to fight off another wave of Clone Troopers with both blades. He blocked blaster bolt after blaster bolt, both blades whirling and spinning with expert ease, until all his enemies lay dead on the ground. A wide-eyed Grogu used the Force to settle his pram onto one of the fallen Clone Trooper’s speeder bikes and watched as the Jedi fought off an onslaught of blaster fire from a larger garrison of soldiers; the Jedi holstered his weapons and mounted the speeder bike, flying away from the burning structure and further into what appeared to be Coruscant.

A Clone transport ship appeared behind them and a chase through Coruscant’s heavy air traffic ensued, only ending when Kelleran flew their speeder through a hovertrain tunnel and the transport was destroyed by an oncoming train. Their speeder emerged from one of the train stations and weaved in between the city’s towering skyscrapers until they came upon a landing platform.

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna meet up with some friends of mine,” Kelleran reassured Grogu. “But hold on, it’s gonna be a bumpy landing.”

The speeder skidded across the landing platform and the Jedi was ejected from his seat; when he picked himself up, he ran over to the speeder’s remnants and removed Grogu’s pram and (Y/N)’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief when she saw what awaited them: a J-Type 327 Nubian Starship, the spacecraft commissioned and owned by the Royal House of Naboo. Several figures wearing the uniforms of the Naboo Royal Guard emerged from the starship and hurried over to the pair.

“Kelleran Beq?”

The Jedi nodded at the Guard Captain’s question. “They’re right behind me.”

“What about the others?”

“There are no others.”

Another Clone transport flew down and landed on the platform and under a hail of blaster fire, the Guard Captain shouted, “Take the ship, it’s fueled and ready to go!”

Kelleran ushered Grogu’s pram onto the starship and took to the sky, piloting the starship out of the planet’s atmosphere and then…

(Y/N) blinked and found herself back in the Armorer’s forge, the sound of hammering filling the cavernous space instead of screams and blaster fire. She looked down at Grogu, who was looking up at her with imploring eyes, but before she could ask him about the vision, the Armorer spoke. “Captain (Y/L/N). You worry that you do not fit in here amongst your riduur’s people.”

“I…Yes, I do.” Shaking her head to clear her mind of the befuddling vision, (Y/N) sat straighter and watched the Mandalorian across from her cool the circle of beskar in the water trough. “I’m not Mandalorian, so there’s not much I can contribute to the covert.”

“On the contrary, you contribute a great deal to us.” (Y/N) blinked in surprise but remained silent while the Armorer took the circle of beskar and began soldering a design onto its bowed surface. “You provide us with insight into the galaxy. From your homeworld of Naboo and your noble involvement in the Rebellion against the Empire to your travels with Din Djarin, you offer us the ability to see into parts of the galaxy, its many cultures and years of history that we may never have learned of before. Mandalorians respect wisdom and knowledge, and you provide our covert with both in spades.” The Armorer looked up from her work and (Y/N) could feel her eyes meeting hers. “You are also raising a foundling. You saved the foundling Grogu’s life and in so doing, you have achieved the highest honor of the Creed. You may not follow the Way or don a set of beskar armor, but that does not make you any lesser than the ones who do. This is the Way.”

As the Armorer turned her focus back onto her work, (Y/N) nodded and quietly murmured, “This is the Way.”

“It is a tradition in our culture for each to donate a small portion of what they earn to the foundlings.” The Armorer set her soldering tools down and carried the circle of beskar over to where they sat; it was a rondel and on its beveled surface, the signet of a mudhorn was proudly fastened. “It is with these scraps of beskar that I forged your next piece of armor, young one.” Grogu cooed in interest as he recognized the symbol of their small clan. “Mandalorian steel shall keep you safe as you grow stronger.” With a small smile, (Y/N) held the child’s robe open and watched as the Armorer fastened the armor onto his chainmail shirt. “You will grow into this rondel as you grow into your station, foundling Grogu.”

Grogu’s clawed hand tugged on the sleeve of (Y/N)’s coat and she chuckled. “Yes, I see it, little guy. It looks wonderful on you!”

The Armorer dismissed them and while they walked back to the starfighter to finish up its tune-up, all (Y/N) could think of was the Mandalorian’s words and her adoptive son’s troubling vision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Grogu, can I ask you a little about what you showed me in the forge?” (Y/N) asked later that night; she and the child had retired to their living quarters and while she was working on a new shirt for herself, he kept himself entertained by hovering his silver sphere with the Force. At her question, Grogu jumped up onto the bed and babbled out an incomprehensible answer while nodding his head. “That was the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, wasn’t it? Ahsoka Tano told us about it when we first met her on Corvus. You were thinking about your escape at the end of the Clone Wars.”

Grogu nodded again, his brow wrinkling as he let out a saddened coo.

“I’m sorry if the forging made you go back to that night.” (Y/N) set her sewing aside and allowed him to crawl into her lap, leaning down to give his forehead a kiss and running her fingertips over his wrinkled head. “The same happens to your dad sometimes; loud noises make him remember the day he lost his parents and was rescued by the Mandalorians. And from time to time, the sight of fire reminds me of my years of service in the Rebellion.”

To her surprise, Grogu pulled himself up to rest against her chest and patted a clawed hand against her cheek as if to comfort her.

“It’s okay, little guy; being with you and your dad helps me cope with those memories,” (Y/N) reassured him before studying the trusting gleam in his wide eyes. “That starship you escaped in was from Naboo, and so were those Royal Guards who bought you and your Jedi friend time. Is that why you trusted me so much when we first met? Because you could sense through the Force that I was from Naboo?”

Grogu nodded his little head and softly babbled out a reply, and (Y/N) silently wished that she could understand what he was always saying to them.

“I always knew that you and I were alike…” She quietly admitted as the child snuggled against the soft material of her sleeping shirt. “We were both forced to flee our homes at a young age, we both spent years on our own in an unforgiving galaxy, we both were changed for the better when Din Djarin came into our lives and now, we both seem to share a connection to Naboo.” Seeing his eyelids beginning to grow heavy, she gave his forehead another kiss and rubbed soothing circles over his back. “We’ll get the hang of this Mandalorian lifestyle soon, little guy. You’ll have me and I’ll have you, okay?”

Yawning, Grogu let out a sleepy and content coo and (Y/N) leaned back against the headboard as sleep began to overtake her, the feeling of the child’s calm heartbeat the last thing she remembered before falling into a dreamless slumber.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Six
The Ranger

“Well, this is certainly the strangest mix of passengers I’ve ever flown in my ship,” Bo-Katan remarked with amusement in her modulated voice as she glanced over her shoulder at the three trussed hatchlings being looked after by several of their fellow Mandalorians. “But I’ll bet this is nothing to a former smuggler like (Y/N), huh?”

Din hummed in response from his seat behind her, staring out the viewport at the scenic landscape while his thoughts were consumed by his discontented wife. Their mission to rescue the foundling from the raptor’s nest had been enough to distract him from his worry over (Y/N)’s mental well-being, but his worry for her was quick to return the moment they reunited young Ragnar with his father Paz. He knew the captain well enough to tell that she was hiding her true feelings about their clan’s acceptance into the covert and although she’d given in without any argument, he knew that she didn’t appreciate being left out of their mission to rescue the foundling. Her happiness means more to me than anyone could ever know but I cannot protect it if I don’t know what’s bothering her, he thought with an inward sigh, his finger tracing along the wedding ring that was hidden beneath his glove.

“Is there something on your mind that you wish to discuss, Din? I’ve been known to be a fairly good listener.”

Din sat forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his gloved hands together and looking down at his worn boots before finally speaking. “I noticed that (Y/N) didn’t seem herself yesterday. Has she mentioned if there’s anything that’s been bothering her or if she’s unhappy?”

Bo-Katan glanced away from the controls to spare him a look. “You don’t know?” When he only stared back at her, she shook her head and sighed. “She’s not unhappy, Din, she’s insecure. For her entire life, she’s always been sure of herself and her abilities; she adapted to her circumstances – being orphaned, growing up as a smuggler, taking up arms against the Empire – and her great capacity to adapt is what helped her survive. Now that she’s found herself living amongst a covert of Mandalorians, she’s finding it difficult to adapt to our lifestyle.”

“I…I had no idea.”

“I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it too much if I were you; (Y/N)’s a proud woman who hides her emotions behind a mask of strength,” The Nite Owl replied with a noncommittal shrug, turning her attention back to her controls with a hint of a smile in her voice. “So, we’re obviously nothing alike.” Din chuckled at that. “She just wants to fit in, Din, and in time she will. You’ve just gotta be patient with her until she finds her place in the covert.”

While they journeyed back to the covert, Din considered Bo-Katan’s wise words and in no time, they were initiating the landing sequence and touching down on the lakeshore just past the cave. Paz and Ragnar walked down the Gauntlet’s gangplank accompanied by the celebratory cheers and the clanging of beskar vambraces, and Din and Bo-Katan followed after them; (Y/N) was standing off to the side of the gathering of Mandalorians with Grogu nestled in her arms, the both of them looking happy that their mission was a success but also a little self-conscious, and the sight of them caused Din to take longer strides to reach them quicker.

“We knew you’d be able to do it!” (Y/N) beamed and passed a squirming Grogu over to Din once he was standing before them. “Didn’t we, Grogu?”

The child happily cooed and snuggled his face against Din’s cowl, making him chuckle and gently pat his back. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, kid.” He cupped (Y/N)’s cheek with his free hand and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss. “How were things while I was away?”

“Very insightful, actually.” The captain pulled away far enough to look into the visor of his helmet. “Sweetheart, there’s something I have to talk to you about-”

“I know, alor’ad, and I understand.” Din took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise you here and now, I’ll do whatever I can to help you find your way here.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed but before she could reply, Paz and Ragnar walked up to them and the older Mandalorian bowed his helmeted head in respect. “Captain (Y/L/N). While he recuperates from his ordeal with the raptor, my son Ragnar wishes to learn the basics of piloting until he can resume his drills. Would you be willing to take him on as a student?”

A smile tugged on the corners of Din’s lips as he watched (Y/N)’s brows raise in surprise and her face brighten with unabashed happiness. “O-Of course, I would be honored to teach him.” Giving Din’s hand a tight squeeze, she focused her attention on the blue-helmeted boy standing beside his father. “If you’re feeling up to it, Ragnar, we can start bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“This is the Way,” Ragnar replied and, just as Paz had, bowed his head in respect before looking up at his father. “Is it dinnertime yet? I haven’t eaten since yesterday!”

Paz huffed out a chuckle. “Of course, son. Come, we’ll fix you something to eat.”

With one last nod, the older Mandalorian led the foundling into the cave and without warning, (Y/N) laughed in delight and threw her arms around Din’s neck. “This is perfect! If everything goes well with Ragnar, I’ll be able to put my piloting skills to good use and teach all the children how to pilot!”

“Ner mirdala alor’ad. My clever captain, always thinking five steps ahead of everyone else.” He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and held her close, beyond thankful to the Maker that she’d found a way to feel more secure about herself amongst the rest of their covert. “Just one of the many, many things I love about you.”

(Y/N) arched a brow and bit her lip to keep from grinning as she finally released him. “Well, as much as I’d like to hear the rest, we should probably find something for Grogu to eat before he goes after one of those hatchlings you brought back. And speaking of the little guy, there really is something important I have to tell you about him…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next week, they were beginning to fall into a routine of sorts. (Y/N) would begin the day teaching Ragnar and a small handful of apprentices the basics of piloting while Din worked with Grogu on his drills, and the both of them would spend the evening helping Grogu practice using the Force; the other Mandalorians, seeing how willing the captain was to both teach all she knew about piloting and to learn all she could about their culture, warmed up to her presence and welcomed her into their covert, and they treated Grogu with the same level of respect as any other foundling among their ranks. In their spare time, Din and (Y/N) used their beat-up holopad to research Naboo and Kelleran Beq, the Jedi who rescued the child from the Jedi Temple at the end of the Clone Wars, but to no avail; they couldn’t seem to find any information on why the Jedi was assisted by the Naboo Royal Guard and Grogu seemed reluctant to show them another Force vision, so they decided not to push the issue with him.

Their peaceful bubble that they were slowly becoming accustom to was eventually shattered by the arrival of an X-Wing piloted by a familiar Adelphi Ranger. As word quickly spread throughout the covert, Din and (Y/N) followed the troop of Mandalorians that volunteered to block the officer of the New Republic from stepping foot into the cave, an unsettling feeling beginning to take shape in the pit of Din’s stomach.

“Captain Carson Teva, Adelphi Rangers. I have a time-pressing matter to attend to.”

“Clear out, Blue Boy,” Paz commanded as the other Mandalorians fanned out on either side of him. “The New Republic isn’t welcome here.”

“Sorry for dropping in unannounced, but if I’d given warning, your settlement would’ve cleared out before I ever hit atmosphere.”

Exchanging a wary glance with (Y/N), Din stepped out of the cave and weaved past the blockade of Mandalorians while the captain followed close behind. “How did you manage to find us? Mandalorians pride ourselves on our secrecy.”

Captain Teva, looking the same as he had when he’d saved their lives on Maldo Kreis and nearly arrested them just outside of Tatooine’s atmosphere, gave them both a small smile. “Fortunately, someone I served with in the Rebellion is amongst your ranks.” Din’s brows rose in surprise and he scanned the group of Mandalorians standing behind them, only stopping when he spotted their anxious astromech droid rolling to a stop beside (Y/N) and sighing in exasperation when he greeted the pilot with a series of chirps and whistles; unaffected by Din’s annoyance, Captain Teva saluted R5-D4. “Thanks, R5.”

Din placed his hands on his hips and stared down the unflinching officer. “The entire covert will now have to relocate.”

“Or we could kill him,” Paz gruffly offered. “Stay right here.”

Fighting the obvious urge to roll her eyes at the older Mandalorian’s dramatics, (Y/N) shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Din, need I remind you that Captain Teva here once helped us out of a very sticky situation and is the sole reason why we’re alive right now?”

“Of course, alor’ad, you’re right.” Din glanced over his shoulder at his fellow Mandalorians. “This man cut us a break once, and now I’m returning the favor.” He turned back around to face the officer. “Clear out, Blue.”

Ignoring Din’s order, Captain Teva patted the pocket of his orange flight-suit’s pocket. “Greef Karga sent this holo-message.” (Y/N) stepped forward but when the officer reached into his pocket, the Mandalorians raised their blasters to defend the captain in case of any subterfuge; Captain Teva cautiously withdrew a black puck from his pocket and slowly handed it over to (Y/N) before continuing. “Nevarro is under siege by pirates. He’s asking for help.”

Biting his lip, Din hesitated a moment before joining (Y/N) and quietly asking, “Why are you really here?”

“They’re about to blow Nevarro to hell.”

“Then call in a strike; we don’t even have ships.”

“Coruscant doesn’t care,” Captain Teva pointed out as the three of them walked down the beach towards his X-Wing. “Karga is your friend; you won’t let him die.” He glanced over at (Y/N) and pointed at the Rebel Alliance symbol stitched onto the shoulder of his flight-suit. “And a veteran of the Rebellion won’t just sit back and let innocent civilians get hurt.”

A line formed between (Y/N)’s brows as she silently pondered the officer’s words and Din pursed his lips beneath his helmet, a part of him still wary of his intentions. “What’s in it for you?”

Captain Teva looked between Din and (Y/N) as he lowly replied, “The New Republic has to know that the Empire is growing again.”

“And you think the Pirate King has something to do with it?” The corner of (Y/N)’s mouth was turned downwards into a troubled frown. “Gorian Shard’s a menace, but I can’t see him willingly taking orders from Imps.”

“I can’t say for sure, Captain (Y/L/N), but something doesn’t smell right.” Din and (Y/N) exchanged another look and the officer sighed. “Look, it’s not your fight. I just came to tell you your friend’s in danger and I thought you should know.” Captain Teva climbed into the cockpit of his X-Wing and he slipped his flight helmet on as Bo-Katan strode across the lakeshore towards where they stood. “I know you’ll relocate anyway but you have my word, I will not reveal your location. Sorry to intrude.”

“May the Force be with you, Captain Teva,” (Y/N) called out over the noise of the X-Wing’s engine and the officer saluted her before lowering the windshield and taking to the sky. “I should’ve kriffing known that Gorian Shard would retaliate against Nevarro…”

Din wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close. “It’s not your fault, alor’ad.”

“So, what’re you guys thinking?” Bo-Katan asked.

Sighing, Din looked down at the black puck clutched tight in his wife’s hand before answering. “He’s right. We’ve gotta help the guy.”

The Nite Owl nodded. “Well, you can’t do it alone. I think it’s time we called a council meeting, don’t you?”

Din watched the X-Wing grow smaller on the horizon, his mind already decided on their next course of action; convincing the Mandalorians who’d once taken up arms against Karga to help him won’t be easy, he thought to himself with an inward sigh, but we owe it to him to try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Din paced before the bonfire burning in the center of their covert’s council chambers, he felt a surge of gratitude that there were two supportive faces sitting amongst the crowd of gathered Mandalorians. (Y/N) was seated beside Bo-Katan and Grogu was nestled comfortably in her lap, his large eyes bright with curiosity as Din addressed the chamber.

“Now, many of you don’t know Greef Karga and those that do fought against him when you rescued me from his ambush many cycles ago on the streets of Nevarro.” Din’s gloved hand tightened around the Armorer’s forging hammer while the Mandalorians quietly muttered amongst themselves, taking a deep breath and remaining calm for the sake of his argument. “Since then, he’s had a change of heart and has risked his life to save mine as well as my riduur and the foundling in our charge. I stand before you to petition an intervention, to help rescue Nevarro before it’s too late. I am in no position to ask any more of you, however-” More indistinct chattering interrupted Din’s words, but he merely raised the hammer in his hand and spoke over his fellow Mandalorians. “However, the enemy that decimated this very covert were Imperials, not Greef Karga’s bounty hunters. Greef Karga is now a High Magistrate and has offered my riduur and I a tract of land on his independent world.” He smiled beneath his helmet at the look of surprise on (Y/N)’s face; he’d spent so long living with the guilt of not providing the captain with the peaceful life she’d always dreamed of – a stable home and the ability to open her own seamstress shop as her late mother once had on Naboo – but now, that weight was taken off his shoulders as she beamed in happiness at him from across the chamber. “Perhaps it is time for us to live in the light once again on a planet where we are welcome, so our culture may flourish and our children can feel what it is to play in the sunlight.”

There was a tonal shift in the murmurs amongst the gathering of Mandalorians as Din handed the hammer over to the Armorer and took a seat beside (Y/N), lacing his fingers through hers and letting Grogu crawl over to sit on his lap. “Does anyone else wish to speak?” The Armorer looked around the chamber and held out the forging hammer for the next person to take.

“It’s up to them now,” Din quietly remarked.

(Y/N) squeezed his hand but silently watched as Paz stood and crossed the chamber. “I do.” He took the hammer from the Armorer and waited for her to take her seat before addressing his brothers and sisters-in-arms. “I was there on Nevarro that night. I fought against Greef Karga and his hunters. I saw my brothers and sisters fall at the hands of the Imperial butchers that hunted us in the sewers. I saw many die to save the life of this one, tiny foundling.” From his place on Din’s lap, Grogu softly cooed and (Y/N) ran a soothing hand over the top of his wrinkled head. “And now we are asked to sacrifice yet again. The question we should be asking ourselves is, ‘Why? Why should we lay our lives down yet again?’” Paz paused to let his words sink in but as Din braced himself for an argument against intervention, he bellowed, “Because we are Mandalorians!” (Y/N) and Bo-Katan exchanged a look and Din straightened in his seat as the older Mandalorian gestured towards him. “I have had my disagreements with this man, but he risked his life to save my son. Captain (Y/L/N) fearlessly volunteered to join the rescue party, without a single piece of beskar armor or years of combat training to protect herself. And Bo-Katan Kryze did not give up on my child’s life, even when the rest of us did. These three are asking us to take up arms in the name of a brighter future, and I for one will take up arms to fight by their side.” The gathered Mandalorians nodded in agreement and voiced their approval of Paz’s rallying words as he raised the forging hammer high. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” The assembled Mandalorians echoed.

The Armorer nodded. “This is the Way.”

As the Mandalorians talked amongst themselves and filtered out of the chamber, Bo-Katan let out a long sigh. “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. I’m gonna go and check on the Gauntlet, make sure it’s running smoothly for our mission on Nevarro.”

Patting Grogu on the head, the Nite Owl stood and walked out of the chamber and (Y/N)’s eyes were sparkling with joy as she turned to face him. “Have I told you that I love you today?”

“Once or twice, but I could always use a reminder.” The captain giggled at his reply as he gently pressed his helmeted forehead against hers. “Your culture deserves to live on through you, alor’ad, and you deserve to live the life you’ve always dreamed of. Just as you honor and respect our Way, I honor and respect your people’s traditions and I will do anything to ensure that we can walk both paths together. Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“And I love you too, my honorable Mandalorian.”

The clan of three sat alone in the council chamber and enjoyed their moment of solitude before leaving to begin planning their new mission, eager to save their friend and the citizens of Nevarro and establish a new home and permanent home for their son and their people.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Pirates

Tugging her fingerless gloves on and double-checking that R5-D4 was secured into the droid port, (Y/N) glanced over at Grogu seated beside her on the edge of the starfighter’s cockpit and arched an unsurprised brow. “I take it your dad wasn’t able to convince you to stay behind, huh?”

Grogu cooed and continued eating his breakfast of bantha jerky while the Mandalorian fighters gathered in front of the Gauntlet; a moment later, Din and Bo-Katan emerged from the cave and Din crossed behind the group to lean against the starfighter while Bo-Katan stood beside the extended gangplank. “This is a Kom’rk Class fighter transport. I’ll use this to drop you in and you will operate as a tight military unit; Captain (Y/L/N) and myself will reinforce from above. If everyone acts as they should, we can use the element of surprise and defeat an enemy that outnumbers us.” The Nite Owl surveyed the group assembled before her. “If everyone’s ready, then we’ll leave for Nevarro at once.”

The Mandalorians that were joining their mission said their goodbyes to the covert members staying behind and filtered onto the Gauntlet, and Clan Mudhorn climbed into the starfighter and charted their course to Nevarro. “Are you guys sure you don’t wanna sit this one out?” (Y/N) asked as she hovered her hand over the edge of the windshield. “It’s gonna get a little dicey up there.”

“And we’ll be right with you when it does, alor’ad.” Din reached up and slid the windshield closed before guiding her hands onto the controls and placing his hands on her waist. “This is the Way.”

(Y/N) smiled to herself as she switched the engines on and piloted the starfighter up into the clear blue sky, spotting the Gauntlet following after them and switching the communication radio on. “Okay, Bo, I’ve sent over the coordinates.”

“Copy that, Captain. I’ll see you in hyperspace.” The ships flew through the planet’s upper atmosphere and entered hyperspace the moment they reached the darkness of space; while the bright blue lights swirled around both ships, a hologram of the battle plan was beamed into their cockpit from the Gauntlet. “Pirate King Gorian Shard is captaining a Cumulus Class Corsair carrying a complement of snubfighters. It has aerial bombardment capabilities. The N-1 will distract the Corsair and her snubfighters as we drop in to liberate the planet below.” Bo-Katan’s voice was clear and assured as she briefed their fighters, and (Y/N) could easily imagine her leading Mandalore in its prime. “Nevarro is an independent planet and no longer under remnant Imperial or New Republic protection, but it’s that very independence that makes it appealing for you to settle. You lived there once, hiding in the sewers. But now, you can be heroes.”

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) squared her shoulders and guided the starfighter out of hyperspace, piloting down through the upper atmosphere of Nevarro as the corner of her curved upwards into a self-assured smirk. “This is where the fun begins.” She pushed down on the controls and the starfighter shot forward, speeding through the sky as she steered them towards Gorian Shard’s Corsair hovering above the bombed-out city; she fired on the starship and spun the starfighter around for another pass. “If that didn’t scug ‘em off, then this definitely will.” She navigated the starfighter under the Corsair and fired on the starship’s gunwales; several of the gunwales were destroyed in a fiery explosion and as she moved in for another pass, three snubfighters launched into the air after her. “That seemed to do it!”

“Bold of you to return, Captain (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at Vane’s threatening tone. “What can I say? I’m a bold woman.” She jammed the communication radio’s signal to the pirates’ snubfighters and swerved out of the way of their blaster fire. “You two might wanna hold on tight from here on out.”

Grogu giggled in delight when she flipped the starfighter over to dodge another round of blaster fire while Din’s gloved hands tightened on her waist. “Maybe we can convince Peli to install a seismic charge launcher on the N-1 the next time we’re in Mos Eisley. That is, if an ex-smuggler can handle a bounty hunter’s weapon.”

“Oh, you’ll find that ex-smugglers can handle anything that’s thrown their way,” (Y/N) replied with a growing smirk at their usual teasing. “Unlike hot-head bounty hunters with something to prove.”

Before Din could respond, their friend’s familiar voice came through the starfighter’s communication radio. “Thanks for your help, you two.”

“We decided to take you up on your offer for a tract of land.”

“Be careful, my friends. They’ve got you outnumbered ten to one.”

(Y/N) increased their speed and at the very last second, she swerved to the side and triumphantly smiled when the snubfighter chasing them and the snubfighter charging towards them flew into one another and exploded in a fiery crash. “I like those odds.”

Greef chuckled at that. “I bet you do.”

Dodging the blaster fire coming from the Corsair, (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the starship flying away from the city. “The Corsair’s on me, Bo. Coast is clear.”

While the starfighter distracted the Corsair and its multitude of snubfighters, the Gauntlet hovered over the city and dropped their squadron of Mandalorian fighters before flying away. “Their launch was successful,” Din announced as he looked out the windshield. “Time to really scug these pirates off.”

“My pleasure.” (Y/N) wrenched the controls to the side and steered the starfighter into a tight corkscrew spin, deftly avoiding the snubfighter’s blaster fire and maneuvering out of the spin to fly over the Corsair and shoot down an oncoming snubfighter. Her grip tightened on the starfighter’s controls as she led their enemies over Nevarro’s lava flats and away from the city, smiling to herself when each and every snubfighter joined the pursuit. “That seemed to do the trick.”

“Captain, what’s your position?”

“We’re over the flats with snubfighters in pursuit,” (Y/N) replied and flew the starfighter through the rocky outcroppings with ease. “You’re clear to start your run.”

“You should ease up on the accelerator, make ‘em think that they actually have a shot at taking us down.”

She gave Din a playful look over her shoulder as she sharply turned a corner. “Are you back-seat flying, Din Djarin? Because I have a zero-tolerance policy that forbids back-seat flying from Mandalorians who have a history of crash-landing onto several planets.”

“Mir’sheb.” Her husband’s chuckles were interrupted by Grogu’s urgent squeal and he swore under his breath. “They’re peeling off. They know we’re the diversion.”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) wrenched the controls upwards and shot out of the canyon as she called into the communication radio, “Bo, you’re about to have five snubfighters on your tail. I’m on my way to back you up.”

“Copy that, Captain.”

The starfighter raced through the sky towards the Corsair and when she saw the five snubfighters pursuing the Gauntlet, she steered them into a nosedive and checked to make sure that the child was being held by Din before flying straight up; she shot down a snubfighter and sped straight through their formation, scattering the remaining four ships and shooting down a second and a third on her descent. As the ship’s remains crashed into the Corsair and destroyed one of its engines, Grogu giggled in delight and Din murmured more words of affirmation while the Gauntlet shot down another snubfighter, leaving Vane’s ship as the last one standing; (Y/N) broke out into a triumphant smile when the pirate’s ship suddenly turned and flew away from the fight, but her triumph was short-lived when she saw the Corsair being steered above the city and its gunwales began firing on the buildings below.

“He’s targeting the townspeople!”

“We’ve gotta take him down,” (Y/N) replied, looping the starfighter around and racing towards the attacking Corsair. “Focus fire on their last engine!”

With (Y/N) approaching from the bow of the Corsair and Bo-Katan approaching from the stern, they both fired on the starship’s last operational engine and sped away as it burst into flames and slowly crashed onto the planet’s surface in an impressive explosion. Exhausted, (Y/N) flopped back against Din’s chest and switched the controls over to R5 before closing her eyes, smiling tiredly when she heard Grogu’s enthusiastic babbling and felt the brief but loving caress of her husband’s lips on her temple. I don’t remember flying being this tiring during the Rebellion, she thought to herself as the starfighter began its descent, but it’s nice to know I’ve still got it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Greef Karga exclaimed over the cheers of the townspeople. The citizens of Nevarro and their Mandalorian saviors were gathered by the city’s ruined archway near the docked Gauntlet, while the members of Clan Mudhorn stayed towards the back with the starfighter; (Y/N) stood on the starfighter’s side panel while Din stood on the ground, one of his gloved hands resting on her calf while the other shaded Grogu’s face from the bright sun, and all three of them listened as the High Magistrate addressed the celebrating crowd. “To all of you, and especially to our fine Mandalorian liberators, to whom this planet is forever indebted.” Greef turned to look at the gathered Mandalorians and offered them a welcoming smile. “Mandalorians, I know that we have been on opposite sides in the past, but that is behind us. From this day forward, I, Magistrate Greef Karga-”

“High Magistrate, sir.”

The crowd laughed at the protocol droid’s correction and Greef chuckled good-naturedly. “High Magistrate Greef Karga, hereby cede all land from the western lava flats to Bulloch Canyon to the fine people of Mandalore. You may no longer have a home planet, but you do now have a home. Welcome!”

The citizens of Nevarro burst into applause and the assembled Mandalorians crossed their right arms over their chests, bowing their helmeted heads in a show of respect. “Well, I guess we should start unloading the Gauntlet’s cargo hold…”

When (Y/N) attempted to hop down from the starfighter’s side panel, her stiff legs gave way but thanks to Din’s quick reflexes, she landed neatly in her husband’s strong arms. “The rest of us will handle the cargo hold, alor’ad; you’ve more than earned your rest.”

“It’s hard to argue with that,” She chuckled, giving the beskar covering his cheek a kiss as he cautiously set her on her feet and gathering Grogu into her arms before allowing him to lead her over to the Gauntlet’s extended ramp.

Seated on a cargo box, (Y/N) scrolled through Greef Karga’s official holo-pad while the Mandalorians and the citizens of Nevarro began working to build a camp on the outskirts of the bombed-out city; she’d hoped that the High Magistrate’s resources would help her find any information on Kelleran Beq and his possible ties to Naboo, but her search proved to be fruitless and she was still reluctant to ask the child any more questions about his past, fearing that they’d only serve to re-traumatize him.

“No luck?”

(Y/N) sighed and set the holo-pad aside before looking over at Din, who was busy sorting through boxes of blaster cartridges beside her. “I don’t know why I’m expecting anything different. The Jedi were forced into hiding nearly thirty years ago, so it’s not as though they’d make themselves easy to find.”

Before Din could reply, Grogu’s curious coos drew their attention towards two Mandalorians making their way through the makeshift camp: the Armorer and – to (Y/N)’s stunned surprise – a helmetless Bo-Katan Kryze. The Nite Owl looked uncomfortable under the heavy stares of her fellow Mandalorians, clutching her helmet to her side and doing her best to ignore the murmurs that followed them as they made their way towards (Y/N) and Din. Both Mandalorians stopped before them, and the Armorer loudly announced, “Bo-Katan Kryze is going off to bring other Mandalorians in exile to us, so that we may join together once again.”

“But she shows her face,” Paz pointed out, and the surrounding Mandalorians nodded in agreement and continued to talk amongst themselves.

The Armorer was unaffected by her covert’s reactions. “Bo-Katan walks both worlds, and she can bring all tribes together.” Shifting his weight, Paz looked over at Din and relaxed his shoulders when he gave him a single nod. “It is time to retake Mandalore.”

Din looked down at (Y/N) and once she gave him a subtle nod, he turned his attention back to the Mandalorians standing before them. “(Y/N) and I will accompany you on your quest to locate the exiled Mandalorians.” Despite the shocking turn of events and the mixture of emotions he was undoubtedly experiencing, Din’s modulated voice was clear and steady as he continued. “This is the Way.”

Bo-Katan offered them a thankful smile. “This is the Way.”

Grogu let out a series of babbles and coos, and (Y/N) found herself nodding in agreement. “You’re right, little guy: it’s certainly been one helluva day…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Malfunction

“There they are.”

Looking up from the console’s buttons, Din’s brows rose in surprise when he caught a glimpse of the Nite Owl’s one-time stolen fleet; it was comprised of several Gozanti-class Assault Carriers, Kom’rk-class fighter transports, fang-class fighters and the Imperial light cruiser that once belonged to Moff Gideon. Seeing the light cruiser that (Y/N) had nearly died on and where they’d been forced to say goodbye to Grogu again sent a shiver down Din’s spine and although he knew that it was under the command of the exiled Mandalorian, he silently vowed never to set foot onto a ship that held such dark memories for his small family. “That’s quite a fleet.”

Bo-Katan continued to fly the Gauntlet across the clear skies of Plazir-15 as she spared him a brief glance over her shoulder. “It took me a long time to assemble it; most of it was captured from the Empire.”

“I knew they looked familiar.” (Y/N) got up from her seat and crossed the starfighter’s cockpit to lean against the console beside Din. “Could come in real handy taking back Mandalore.”

“Axe Woves is their leader now,” Bo-Katan replied with a small sigh. “It’s going to take some convincing to get them to join us.”

Din watched as the captain bit her lip and remained silent, the look of sympathy briefly crossing her beautiful features causing his heart to thrum in his chest. He was constantly amazed by his wife’s ability to empathize with the struggles of others, regardless of the language and culture barriers she’d often times run into; he remembered how kindly she’d treated the Tuskens and the Frog woman, how selflessly she’d defended the people of Freetown and Mos Espa, and how – despite the recent slew of confusing contradictions – she’d eagerly thrown herself into learning all that she could about the Way of the Mandalore. The conflicts and infighting amongst the various factions of Mandalorians was baffling to her, but that didn’t prevent her from spending their week of searching for the stolen fleet commiserating with the woman who already failed to unite her people once before and who was obviously fearful of failing once again.

Searching for any means of easing the nervous tension in the cockpit, Din asked, “I wonder what they’re here for?”

“This planet isn’t on the New Republic Registry, so I’d guess it’s an independent world that hired them for protection.”

(Y/N) cleared her throat and began fiddling with the frayed edge of her fingerless glove. “Can’t imagine Woves will be happy to see you…”

Bo-Katan absentmindedly nodded, clearly lost in her own ruminations ahead of their meeting with her former forces. “Yeah.” Disappointment filled (Y/N)’s eyes and Din placed a gloved hand atop hers for comfort as the Nite Owl continued. “I’ll land outside the fleet’s perimeter; it’s probably best if we go in on foot.”

Before either Din or (Y/N) could reply, a cheerful fanfare played over the starfighter’s communication radio and was accompanied by an equally-pleasant voice. “Welcome to Plazir-15, the Outer Rim’s only remaining direct democracy. You’ve been assigned a docking slip. You will be guided on the assigned path. Engaging automated guidance.”

The Gauntlet suddenly jolted and began flying towards the planet’s domed city, causing (Y/N) to stumble and Din to wrap a steadying arm around her waist as Bo-Katan slapped a gloved hand on the console’s unresponsive buttons. “What happened?”

“They’ve taken control of the ship.” With a huff of annoyance, Bo-Katan flopped back in the pilot’s seat and looked at Grogu seated beside her. “I guess we’re going for a ride.”

Grogu cooed in delight and bobbed his head along to the music still emanating from the radio, causing (Y/N) to giggle and Din to smile beneath his helmet. In no time, the Gauntlet touched down on one of the city’s landing pads and the ramp lowered on its own accord; they bid R5 goodbye and after exchanging wary looks with one another, the four of them walked down the ramp and began crossing the landing pad. “This is…interesting,” Din commented, forcing himself not to reach for his blaster when he caught sight of the Imperial Death Star and astromech droids positioned by the monorail platform.

“Welcome to Plazir-15.” The RA-7 unit gestured towards the occupied track at the top of the raised platform. “Please proceed to your hyperloop pod.”

As they passed by the Imperial droids, (Y/N) shuddered and looked over at Din and Bo-Katan in discomfort. “Why do they have Imperial droids on an independent world?”

“It’s the Outer Rim,” Bo-Katan replied with a shrug as they ascended the platform and stepped into the empty pod. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Din and (Y/N) sat on one end of the pod while Bo-Katan and Grogu’s pram sat opposite them and once the doors slid shut, the Nite Owl addressed the hyperloop’s automation. “Bring us to the bay closest to the Mandalorian fleet.”

“As per Article Nine of the Coruscant Accords, permission must be granted from High Senate for access to self-defense forces in the peacekeeping zone. Do you grant permission to scan your chain code?”

(Y/N) stiffened while Din and Bo-Katan allowed the automation to scan their chain codes and when she made no move to produce hers, Din’s brow furrowed in concern. “Alor’ad? Is everything all right?”

“…Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” The captain trailed off and silently held out her wrist so that the automation could read the chain code emanating from her arm band.

“Din Djarin, Bo-Katan Kryze and Solia Corrik…” Din’s eyes widened in shock and (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest as she avoided their questioning gazes. “Your presence has been requested by the leadership of the planetary democracy.”

Bo-Katan gritted her teeth in impatience. “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters. Perhaps at a later time-”

“Please do not attempt to leave the vehicle. This is not a request.”

Without warning, the hyperloop pod shot forward and raced along its track. They scrambled to brace themselves and when they finally succeeded, (Y/N) sighed and finally looked over at Din. “Solia Corrik is the name my mother gave me when I was born and when she died, Solia Corrik died with her; I started going by (Y/N) (Y/L/N) when I fled Naboo – it was safer that way, easier to avoid Imperial detection, and it was what she wanted for me – and I’ve avoided having my chain code scanned at every chance I could, but I never had the heart to officially change my name. I’m sorry that I never told you, Din-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, alor’ad.” Din reached over and held one of her hands while the other caressed her cheek. “If you say your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), then that’s what I’ll call you. You respected my Creed without question and called me ‘Mando’ until I finally worked up the nerve to tell you my name, and you deserve the same level of respect.”

(Y/N)’s worried expression softened into a grateful smile and after giving the palm of his gloved hand a brief kiss, she took a glance out of the pod and bit her lip as she studied the domed city they sped through. “I’ve never been here before. Have either of you?”

Bo-Katan shook her head and Din removed his hand from the captain’s cheek to rest it on the handle of his blaster. “I haven’t even heard of it. Do you think we’re gonna have to blast our way out of here?”

“We’ll find out,” The Nite Owl replied, shifting in unease and exchanging a look with Grogu as the pod came to a stop and its doors slid open.

The three of them stood and exited the pod, slowly walking down the stark-white hallway while Grogu’s pram drifted along behind them; Din struggled to keep his hands hanging loose at his sides but he pushed through, his curiosity over the strange-looking planet only slightly overshadowing his cautious nature. The doors at the end of the hallway slid open to reveal a grand dining hall decorated with green ferns and woven tapestries, where beings of all shapes and sizes were seated around a sprawling table and enjoying a midday feast while musicians serenaded them with a gentle tune.

“Join us! Come!” A bearded man dressed in an opulent uniform exclaimed from the head of the table and beamed as he waved them over. “It’s a party, come! Everyone, special guests: Mandalorians! I hope you like secretions. Take a sip-sip! Come, please!” As they made their way around the long table, the bearded man sat back down beside a woman donned in an elaborate gown of blue, purple and pink. Din, knowing his wife’s affinity for fashion, glanced over at (Y/N) expecting to find an awed expression on her face, but his brow furrowed in confusion when all he saw was shock. “It’s truly an honor to meet such impressive warriors!”

Din and Bo-Katan sat on the man’s side of the table with Grogu’s pram while (Y/N) sat in the unoccupied seat beside the opulently-dressed woman, who gave them all a warm smile. “Welcome to our humble home. I am the Duchess of Plazir-15 and this is my husband, Captain Bombardier.”

While the Duchess spoke, Din’s eyes flicked over to Captain Bombardier and he pursed his lips in distaste when he spotted the badge pinned onto the front of his uniform. “Let’s address the bantha in the room,” The bearded man sighed and gestured towards the pin. “I was once a facilities planning officer during the war and thanks to the New Republic Amnesty Program, I was able to help rebuild Plazir-15.”

“You were Imperial?”

“He was,” The Duchess confirmed, resting a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder before continuing. “Plazir suffered greatly under Imperial rule. My husband came here as part of his rehabilitation; he oversaw the rebuilding of this planet on which my family served as nobility since it was originally settled, and…” She held her husband’s hand and gave him a sweet smile. “We fell in love.”

Captain Bombardier chuckled and reverently kissed his wife’s knuckles. “We fell in love. We did fall in love.”

Watching the happy couple shamelessly revel in their romance, Grogu cooed in delight and the Duchess’ brown eyes lit up as she looked up at Din. “Could I perhaps hold the baby? Please?”

“He doesn’t take kindly to strangers…” Din carefully replied but before he could say another word, the child leapt through the air and landed neatly in the Duchess’ lap; while the royal couple laughed in delight and Grogu happily ate the small fish that the Duchess bribed him with, Din sighed in exasperation and sat back in his seat.

“Pardon me if I speak out of turn, Your Majesty, but was your gown designed here on Plazir-15?”

The Duchess gave (Y/N) a smile while she continued to feed Grogu. “The gown was but my petal parasol was imported all the way from Naboo many cycles ago, an anniversary gift from my father for my mother. When I inherited the royal wardrobe, I had my favorite pieces converted into holograms and the originals put into storage so that their beauty would never fade.” The Duchess quirked her brow as she assessed the surprised captain. “Your surname is Corrik, is it not? Any relation to the House of Corrik?”

“My mother was Lomiya Corrik,” (Y/N) replied, her eyes roving across the elaborate parasol while a melancholy smile formed on her lips. “She kept a record of every piece she ever designed, and this was one of her favorites.”

Beneath his helmet, Din couldn’t help but smile for his wife while the Duchess excitedly raved about the House of Corrik, who had nothing but her memories to remind her of her late mother; it must comfort her to know that her mother’s legacy continues to live on through her artistic creations, he thought to himself, ignoring the twinge of guilt as he recalled how her mother’s treasured journal had been lost in the blast that destroyed the Razor Crest so many months ago.

“In fact, Naboo helped to inspire Plazir’s transformation!” The Duchess explained as Din refocused his attention on their conversation. “You see, it was time for our planet to move into a new age. We held direct democratic elections for the first time in our history.”

Captain Bombardier nodded. “We are both royals and elected leaders.”

“And the Mandalorian privateer warships docked in your fields?” Din inquired.

“Oh, we hire them for protection; our charter forbids us from having a military because of my husband’s Imperial past.”

“But because of this, all of our resources go to growth and the people,” The bearded man added and gave (Y/N) a smile. “We also take great pride in preserving our planet’s history.”

Bo-Katan, trying her hardest not to lose patience with the eccentric couple, sat forward in her seat and clasped her gloved hands together. “I’d like to speak to these ‘privateers.’”

Captain Bombardier exchanged a brief glance with the Duchess. “That can be arranged…there is just one condition.”

“What?”

Din rolled his eyes at the not-so-subtle way the bearded man gestured towards the balcony and cheerfully announced, “You really must see the view. Right this way!” The other guests curiously watched them stand and Captain Bombardier waved them off. “We’ll just be a moment! Enjoy your meal, don’t get up! Let’s show our guests the view.”

“We have a problem,” The Duchess lowly explained as they walked towards the balcony overlooking the domed city.

“A droid problem.”

Din’s brow furrowed at the mention of droids. “What kind of ‘droid problem’?”

“Malfunction.”

“A coordinated malfunction-”

“We think.”

(Y/N) frowned in confusion. “What makes you think that?”

“The planet’s Imperial droids were reprogrammed for peace.” The Duchess’ words were tinged with a subtle accusatory tone as she gave her husband a knowing look.

“I can assure you they were completely rehabilitated for peaceful purposes exclusively.”

“We thought.”

“They were, my love, I personally oversaw the program!”

Din interrupted the couple’s light squabbling to ask a clarifying question. “What kind of malfunction?”

“I mean, nothing too serious at first. Unexpected power cycles, deleted task stacks…”

“Then it got worse.”

“Traffic accidents, heavy equipment failures leading to injury-”

“Assault.”

Din stiffened while (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow. “Assault?”

The Duchess nodded and Bo-Katan shifted her weight as she addressed the royal couple standing before them. “Respectfully, what does this have to do with us?”

“Our constables are ill-equipped to confront battle droids-”

“Battle droids?” Din’s heart dropped into his stomach, the only things keeping him from spiraling into the painful memories of his parents’ deaths being the sound of Grogu’s worried coos and the weight of (Y/N)’s hand resting on his bicep.

Captain Bombardier hastily shook his head. “Uh-uh-uh-uh, former battle droids. They’ve been rehabilitated for civic duty.”

“We thought.”

“They were.”

“Obviously not.”

Bo-Katan’s jaw clenched in annoyance. “The Mandalorian garrison outside your city walls can make quick work of your battle droids.”

“That’s just it. Our charter forbids any standing army from entering our city,” The Duchess explained as she gently caressed Grogu’s wrinkled head. “Our constables aren’t even allowed to carry blasters.”

“But you allowed us to be armed.”

“Exactly!” Din and Bo-Katan exchanged a look as Captain Bombardier continued. “The people have voted that we are a pluralistic society. You are Mandalorians; weaponry and armor are intrinsic to your culture, are they not?”

Din nodded. “They are.”

“…You see where we’re going here?”

The Nite Owl smiled despite her obvious exasperation. “You want us to eliminate your droid problem.”

“Exactly!” The Duchess beamed at them. “I knew you would help us!”

“Hold on there, Your Majesty. We didn’t agree to help you-”

“Please, Princess Kryze, Your Grace. This is not intended to be a work of charity.”

Bo-Katan’s nostrils flared as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “Unlike my brethren outside your city walls, I am no mercenary.”

Captain Bombardier bowed his head in deference. “Apologies if that is the impression I gave. What I intended to convey is that I would hope that this ‘excursion’ would be viewed as an act of diplomacy between our two planets. In fact, Plazir-15 would formally recognize Mandalore as a sovereign system and petition the New Republic to recognize it as such.”

“The mercenary captain, Axe Woves, indicated that he split from you because you had designs on ruling Mandalore once again,” The Duchess added.

“…Those plans have been abandoned.”

The bearded man merely shrugged. “The offer stands nonetheless.”

Pursing her lips, Bo-Katan turned to look at (Y/N) and Din. “What do you think?”

“That having the support of both Nevarro and Plazir-15 will reestablish Mandalore’s political influence throughout the Outer Rim and signal to the New Republic that it deserves to be recognized as a sovereign system,” (Y/N) replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she considered the royal couple’s offer. “Politically, it’s a smart move that will only benefit Mandalore in the long run.”

The Nite Owl, impressed by the captain’s diplomatic answer, turned her attention to Din. “And you?”

“You had me at battle droids.” Her lips twitched as he gave her a small shrug.

“Then it’s settled. The three of us will investigate and eliminate your droid problem.”

The Duchess beamed in happiness and Captain Bombardier clapped his hands. “Thank you, Princess Kryze! There’s just one small thing to address before you begin.”

Bo-Katan’s gloved hands briefly clenched into fists. “Yes?”

“You and Din Djarin are Mandalorians, but Solia Corrik here is unfortunately not; if she will be joining you on your mission, then our charter forbids her from carrying any weapons into the city.”

Flinching at the casual use of her birth-name, (Y/N) nodded and began to reach for her blaster but Din’s hand shot out to stop her. “Alor’ad, wait. I think you should stay here at the palace with the kid.” His wife opened her mouth to protest but Din took a step closer and lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “(Y/N), I lost both of my parents to Separatist battle droids. I don’t wanna lose you and Grogu to them, too.”

(Y/N)’s expression softened in understanding and she nodded as she holstered her blaster and the Duchess spoke up. “Rest assured, your companion and the baby will be well taken care of while you complete your quest.”

“Thank you for extending your hospitality to my family, Your Majesty,” Din replied, bowing his head in respect and reaching forward to pat Grogu’s head. “Be good for our hosts, kid. Bo-Katan and I will be back before you know it.”

The child released a quiet coo and when Din turned back to the captain, she rested a hand on the beskar covering his cheek and gave him a small smile. “K’oyacyi, ner kotep beroya.”

Din’s heart warmed in his chest at his wife’s traditional Mando’a farewell: Come back safely, my brave bounty hunter. He leaned his forehead against hers in a brief Keldabe Kiss and placed his hand atop hers. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.” After she gave him one last smile, he forced himself to step back and turn to a pensive-looking Bo-Katan. “Ready to fix a droid problem?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Din and Bo-Katan were instructed by the Duchess to pay the city’s command center a visit so that Commissioner Helgait, the elderly head of security could brief them on the city’s ongoing struggles with their reprogrammed Imperial droids. The command center was filled with rows and rows of monitors displaying live security footage from all across the domed capitol city and from what Din could see, the people of Plazir-15 seemed content with their lives governed by direct democracy, albeit too reliant on their droids. None of them would be in imminent danger if they didn’t rely so heavily on droids to keep the city running for them, he thought to himself, a surge of the old familiar distrust of all droids causing his jaw to tightly clench.

“These droids were all reprogrammed to serve the community from the stockpile of captured Imperial robotics scheduled to be scrapped at Karthon.” Commissioner Helgait sat at his desk and pressed a series of buttons on its surface to pull up several archived security tapes. “The droid’s reprogramming was a complete success…until one day, an isolated event…” A garbage disposal droid was shown erratically flinging a rubbish can’s contents across an alleyway. “Then others. This is just a small collection of malfunctions that our security cameras caught.” The next footage to play depicted a B1 battle droid hurling a woman’s shopping bags, a chauffeur droid speeding through a crowded terminal and intentionally crashing a land-speeder into a wall, and a cook droid in a bustling restaurant attacking frightened patrons with knives.

“Turn them off.”

Commissioner Helgait looked over at Bo-Katan, who was staring transfixed at the monitors before them. “What?”

“Why not turn them all off? Who’s in charge of that?”

“I am,” The elderly man replied with a shrug. “There’s a fail-safe cutoff switch built into the system. However…”

In an incredible show of self-restraint, Din suppressed his frustrated sigh. “What?”

Commissioner Helgait chuckled humorlessly. “The citizens voted against any interruption in droid services. They can’t live without it.”

“And why’s that?” Din asked, already knowing the answer to his own question but allowing the head of security to speak.

“The citizens are no longer required to work and can spend their days engaging in recreation, the arts, and participating in our direct democracy. If we shut down the droids, our citizens wouldn’t know how to survive.” Commissioner Helgait sighed to himself and shook his head. “Our society would collapse.”

Bo-Katan tilted her head in confusion. “Then what do you want from us?”

“To seek out and decommission any remaining rogue droids, until we can fix the problem.”

Exchanging a wary look with Din, the Nite Owl heaved a small sign and nodded. “Give us the list.”

“Well, for that, you’ll have to go to the lower level and speak to the Ugnaughts.”

Din instantly perked up at that. “Ugnaughts?”

Commissioner Helgait nodded. “Ugnaughts.”

After thanking the head of security for his assistance, Din and Bo-Katan stepped into the elevator and traveled down to the city’s lowest level; his past friendship with Kuiil gave him an insight to the Ugnaught’s skills as droidsmiths, recalling how Kuiil had managed to revive and reprogram IG-11 to act as a nurse droid instead of an assassin droid. Shaking off the wave of sadness he experienced whenever he thought about his fallen Ugnaught friend, Din clasped his hands and remarked, “See what happens when you rely on droids?”

Bo-Katan’s brow arched in curiosity. “Are you taking this personally?”

“Just pointing it out.”

“Let’s just finish this so we can be on our way.” The elevator stopped and when its doors slid open, they stepped out into a bustling workshop and watched several Ugnaughts hard at work performing maintenance tasks on decommissioned and reprogrammed Imperial droids. “I am Bo-Katan Kryze. Which one of you is in charge?” The Ugnaught droidsmiths kept their attention on their work, so the Nite Owl forced a patient smile and tried again. “We were sent on behalf of the Duchess and Captain Bombardier to help you with your droid problem. Hello?” Again, none of the Ugnaughts acknowledged her words or their presence in the workshop, and Din huffed a quiet chuckle at Bo-Katan’s growing annoyance as she turned to look at him. “This is going nowhere.”

Instead of answering, Din took a step forward and loudly addressed the workshop. “I am Mandalorian Din Djarin, friend of Ugnaught Kuiil.” The droidsmiths finally looked up from their tasks as he continued. “You will answer our questions and help us with our task. I have spoken.” The Ugnaughts left their work unfinished and gestured for the both of them to join them at one of the workshop’s tables; Bo-Katan shot Din an impressed look as they took their seats and nodded respectfully at the droidsmith who handed her a cup of broth, politely taking a sip while Din spoke. “Thank you for your hospitality and for sharing your table with us. We were engaged to hunt down and eliminate the malfunctioning droids.”

“There are no such droids.”

The workshop was silent until Bo-Katan set her cup of broth down and rested her elbows on the tabletop. “You may not have heard the news down here, but your droids are wreaking havoc in the world above.”

The same Ugnaught smiled wryly. “There is not much of which we are not aware; these halls are the central nervous system of the city. I assure you, the droids are not malfunctioning.”

The Nite Owl blinked in confusion at the Ugnaught’s flippant tone. “Citizens have been harmed by these malfunctioning machines.”

“This is not the case. I have spoken.”

Din bit his lip, wishing that (Y/N) were there to employ her more natural talent for diplomacy; since she wasn’t, though, he took a deep breath and followed his wife’s example. “We’re not in any way suggesting that your work is to blame. The stories of Ugnaughts’ skill with smithing droids are legendary. We know that Ugnaughts are considered the hardest working species in the galaxy and we, like you, have been engaged with a task to perform. We will investigate the dangerous incidents, but we would appreciate your help.”

After considering his words, the lead droidsmith made a gesture towards his comrade and when he handed him a holo-disc, the lead droidsmith placed it in Din’s open hand. “Here are the locations of the droids you seek.”

“Thank you.” Din bowed his head in respect. “We are in your debt. I have spoken.”

The Ugnaughts nodded and watched them walk across the workshop, where they entered the elevator and traveled back up to the highest levels; neither of them spoke until they were seated in the hyperloop pod, looking out at the darkened night sky and admiring the twinkling lights of the domed city as they sped by. “What was that back there?”

“I’ve spent time with Ugnaughts.” Din shrugged and sat back in his seat. “There’s a particular way to communicate with them; accusing their work of malfunctioning is an insult.” He looked down at the holo-disc and scanned the Aurebesh printed across its surface. “Now, they’ve indicated that there’s a likelihood that the next event will be at the loading docks.”

Bo-Katan hummed in interest. “How sure are they?”

“Hard to tell, Ugnaughts always seem sure of themselves.”

The Nite Owl chuckled. “Well, it’s the only lead we’ve got so we might as well have a look around.” They fell into a comfortable silence and after a short while, their pod slowed to a stop at a bay overlooking the crowded loading docks. Exchanging a look, they exited the pod and made their way down a series of staircases, and a chill went down Din’s spine at the sight before them; B-2 battle droids, the same ones responsible for his parents’ deaths, were carrying cargo boxes to and from various ships and transport speeders, and their labor was overseen by several B-1 series battle droids. Although Din was relieved that (Y/N) and Grogu were safe in the palace, he couldn’t help but long for their comforting presence as he struggled to keep the memories of that terrible day at bay. “I haven’t seen battle droids since the Clone Wars.”

Din gritted his teeth. “I have.”

“Any of ‘em look suspicious?”

“They all look suspicious.”

Bo-Katan didn’t reply, his cryptic words hanging untouched in the air while they stepped down onto the dock and approached the nearest droid foreman. “Halt. This is a restricted area. You are to vacate immediately.”

The Nite Owl gave the stern droid a polite smile. “We have a few questions.”

“Show me your identification, please.”

“We’re here on behalf of the Duchess to investigate the droid malfunctions.”

“Yes, I saw the reports.” While Bo-Katan and the droid foreman talked, Din strayed off to where the battle droids marched in a single-file line and studied their imposing forms as they passed him by; he waved a gloved hand in front of one’s face and saw no reaction, but he merely repeated the gesture with the next droid in line. “Rest assured, I’ve had the entire line of loaders undergo maintenance protocols as a safety measure. The, uh, certification is on file. I wouldn’t do that if I were you!”  

Din glanced over his shoulder at the droid foreman, unperturbed by its warning shout. “Why’s that?”

“Well, as a precaution,” The droid foreman carefully explained. “Their base function was warfare.”

“I thought they were just checked out.”

“They were-” Without waiting for the droid’s full reply, Din gave the next battle droid in line a hard kick; predictably, it merely staggered a little before returning to its place in line and carrying its cargo box to a nearby ship. “Uh, what are you doing?!”

“Then this shouldn’t faze them,” Din shrugged before kicking the next battle droid that passed them by, taking some pleasure in his rash and potentially dangerous experiment.

“Uh, sir? Excuse me! Sir!”

The next battle droid in line immediately stumbled when Din’s boot connected with its leg and dropped its cargo box but after it picked itself up, it suddenly back-handed Din across the dock and took off running. Groaning in pain, Din scrambled to his feet while Bo-Katan fired her blaster at the fleeing battle droid and sprinted after it, quickening his pace once he realized that they were dangerously close to the city streets; he could hear Bo-Katan running behind him as the battle droid knocked over a stack of rubbish and while he jumped over the makeshift obstacle, the Nite Owl propelled herself into the air to avoid the scattered mess. The alleyway opened up into a crowded street and frightened citizens screamed as the battle droid barreled through them, and Din and Bo-Katan were forced to shove their way after it.

Illuminated by the colorful neon lights of the various shopfronts, the imposing battle droid stopped to pick up a cargo box and throw it at them; Bo-Katan activated her jetpack to fly beneath the cargo box while Din dropped to his knees and slid on the smooth stone that paved the street. His body ached in protest but he pushed on, racing to catch up with Bo-Katan as she pursued the battle droid down another alleyway; the moment they emerged from the alley and stepped onto another street, they were forced to drop to the ground to avoid a power unit hurtling straight towards them, which exploded in a ball of fire as they scrambled to their feet and ran after the fleeing droid.

“Keep going!” Din shouted to Bo-Katan before peeling off and sprinting down the less-crowded adjacent alleyway; the battle droid passed the next opening before Din could reach it, forcing him to run into a cantina to continue his pursuit. Patrons shrieked in fright and darted out of his way as he charged through the cantina and when he caught sight of the nearest window, he seized the opportunity and dove straight through it; he tackled the battle droid and they landed on the street in a flurry of shattered glass, and he scrambled to draw his blaster as the battle droid jumped to its feet. But before it could attack, several blaster shots rang through the air and the destroyed droid collapsed onto the street to reveal Bo-Katan holstering her weapons.

“Are you all right?” The Nite Owl asked as she crossed the street and helped Din stand; when he gave her a breathless nod, her shoulders relaxed and they watched four constable droids surround them and the lifeless battle droid and project holographic crime scene barriers to keep any curious civilians away.

“This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back. This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back. This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back.”

They both looked down at the battle droid’s sparking remains and Bo-Katan crouched to retrieve a rectangular object fastened at its waist. “I found a spark pad.”

Din’s brow furrowed beneath his helmet. “What’s it say?”

“‘The Resistor.’”

“Sounds like a droid bar.”

When Bo-Katan stood, she flipped the spark pad over and arched a brow before showing him the Aurebesh printing. “And there’s an address.”

The Nite Owl started down the street and with an exasperated sigh, Din ignored his aching muscles and followed after her. It was going to be a long, long night.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Nine
The Mercenaries

When (Y/N) was a little girl, her mother would often regale her with bedtime stories about the elegant balls once held at Naboo’s royal palace in Theed, where beings of all shapes and sizes dressed in the finest clothing the planet’s seamsters and seamstresses could offer and danced all through the evening. She always dreamed of attending such a soiree but she never truly believed that she ever would, so it came as quite a pleasant surprise when she and Grogu were invited by the Duchess and Captain Bombardier to a ball celebrating the happy couple’s wedding anniversary. (Y/N), dressed in a beautiful sea-blue gown embellished with sparkling jewels and with her hair carefully styled into an elaborate updo, and Grogu mingled with Plazir-15’s citizens, the former learning all that she could about the planet’s unique culture and the latter practically preening under all the attention he was receiving from their gracious hosts and the other attendees.

As the evening went on and both Din and Bo-Katan were nowhere to be found, a worried (Y/N) decided to try contacting her husband through his comm and learned that the Mandalorians’ investigation into the planet’s malfunctioning droids had become more complicated than either of them originally anticipated; they’d visited the Ugnaughts that worked far below the city, chased down a rogue battle droid and gained some insight on the problem after a visit to a droid bar named ‘The Resistor.’ They were heading to the city’s morgue to examine the battle droid’s remains for more evidence when (Y/N) called, and Din confirmed that they were still far from solving the planet’s ongoing droid problem.

“I’m sorry that this has taken so long, alor’ad. I know I said we’d be back soon-”

“It’s all right, sweetheart, I understand,” (Y/N) soothed, glancing over her shoulder at the glittering assemblage inside the palace before leaning against the railing and watching Grogu play with a frog that hopped onto the balcony. “How’re you holding up, Din?”

She could hear Din quietly sigh on the other end. “It’s hard to not think about what happened to my parents, of course, but knowing that you and the kid are safe gives me piece of mind, helps me focus on the task at hand. We’ll get to the bottom of Plazir’s droid problem, and then we’ll finally have access to the Mandalorian mercenaries outside the dome.” The sound of a door sliding open echoed through the comm and Din muttered a quiet curse. “I have to go now, alor’ad, we’ve arrived at the morgue.”

(Y/N) fiddled with the sleeve of her gown and forced an upbeat tone as she replied, “All right, well…be careful, Din, and we’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

The next morning, Din and Bo-Katan were still busy investigating the droid malfunctions, so (Y/N) took advantage of her circumstances and asked the Duchess for permission to access the planet’s vast records in the hopes of finding any information on Jedi Master Kelleran Beq; while there was nothing in their records about the Jedi who’d saved Grogu’s life, there was still plenty of information on the history of the Jedi Order and their exploits throughout the Clone Wars, so (Y/N) spent her morning reading in the palace’s great hall while the royals and their guests played garden games.

“Okay, let me get that for you, m’lady. Your toss, lovely.”

Looking up from her holopad, (Y/N) watched as Captain Bombardier handed a furled pill-bug to the Duchess and when her gaze lowered to see Grogu sneakily peeking out from behind the folds of her elaborate gown, she giggled and hid her amused smile behind her hand. The Duchess sized up the glowing rings positioned around the artificial turf before tossing the furled pill-bug into the air; just as (Y/N) suspected, Grogu raised his clawed hand and used the Force to send the pill-bug flying, where it bounced off two crawling pill-bugs and through four rings. The crowd cheered and Grogu cooed in delight as the Duchess and Captain Bombardier clapped in happiness. “A Quadro-blast! I’ve never seen such a streak! Wasn’t that splendid, Captain (Y/L/N)?”

“It was a wonderful toss, Your Majesty,” (Y/N) complimented from her seat near the artificial lawn and gave Grogu a subtle wink when he looked her way.

The sound of the doors opening drew their attention away from the game, and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in confusion when she saw Din and Bo-Katan escorting a handcuffed old man into the great hall. While (Y/N) slowly got to her feet, the royal couple cautiously approached the Mandalorians and Captain Bombardier tilted his head to the side in perplexity. “What are you doing with Commissioner Helgait?”

“We found the cause of your ‘malfunctions.’”

The guests gasped in shock and the Duchess held a hand to her chest. “Is this true?”

“I’m afraid it is, M’Lady.” Commissioner Helgait ducked his head in visible regret at the stunned tone in her voice.

Captain Bombardier shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “Despicable.”

The old man let out a humorless chuckle. “If that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“This planet is unrecognizable since he arrived!”

“…I had a feeling you hated me.”

Ignoring the exchange between her husband and her head of security, the Duchess pursed her lips and fixed the old man with a saddened look. “I’m disappointed in you, Commissioner. You served my family well, but Captain Bombardier is the love of my life and I know his heart is true.” She rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder and flashed him a tender smile that he was quick to return; (Y/N)’s own eyes flicked over to Din, and she felt herself flush when she saw that the visor of his helmet was already angled towards her instead of the drama unfolding in the great hall. “Sure, he’s made some mistakes in the past, but who here among us has not? Is there no room for a little bit of forgiveness in a galaxy so vast?”

Commissioner Helgait nodded once and cast his gaze downwards. “I am sorry to have disappointed you, My Lady. Perhaps someday, I can earn such forgiveness from Your Grace.”

“Perhaps. As for now, you must live in exile on the moon of Paraqaat.” With a wave of the Duchess’ hand, four constable droids escorted the disgraced head of security from the great hall and after heaving a weary sigh, she turned to face (Y/N) and the two Mandalorians. “And as for you, Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, Din Djarin of Concordia and Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Naboo,” (Y/N) released the breath she’d inadvertently been holding when the Duchess used her preferred name instead of her legal one. “I grant you audience with our deployment of Mandalorian privateers. I also give to you three our highest honor, the key to Plazir.” She reached for an oversized key resting on a silver platter held by a servant droid and offered it out towards them. “You will always be welcome in our domed paradise.”

As (Y/N) moved to stand beside Din, Bo-Katan smiled and stepped forward to receive their honor. “M’Lady. M’Lord.”

“Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I bequeath to you Plazir’s humble collection of Lomiya Corrik’s design sketches, personally commissioned by my family many cycles ago.” The Duchess smiled at (Y/N)’s stunned expression and handed her a leather-bound portfolio. “Although they held an honored place in my family’s collection, I hereby declare that they rightfully belong to the House of Corrik and its descendants.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) clutched the portfolio to her chest and bowed her head in a sign of respect. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The Duchess looked down at Grogu, who was still standing at her side, and accepted the sword that one of her guards offered her. “And to this little one, I grant knighthood.” As she gently tapped the tip of the sword against his tiny shoulders, Bo-Katan fought back a smile and (Y/N) beamed with pride. “You are now a knight of the Ancient Order of Independent Regencies.” Both royals looked up at the trio and the Duchess’ eyes gleamed with thankfulness. “Go in peace, brave travelers. Until our paths meet again.”

“M’Lord. M’Lady.” Din stepped forward to scoop Grogu up into his arms and after resting a gloved hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back, they turned and walked out of the great hall. “A Jedi padawan, a Mandalorian foundling and now a knight; the kid’s collecting titles quicker than the galaxy can come up with ‘em.”

(Y/N) chuckled and while they stepped into their hyperloop pod, she reached over to caress one of the cooing child’s large ears and gave him an affectionate smile as Din placed him in his floating pram. “Of course he is, who can resist this cute little face?” He giggled when her fingers tickled the patch of skin just beneath his chin, and she looked over at her husband as the pod started moving. “So, did that head of security say why he was making the droids malfunction like that?”

“He was a Separatist.” (Y/N)’s smile fell as she watched Din shift in his seat and stare down at his boots. “He wanted to use the droids to disrupt the planet and collapse their society in the name of democracy.”

Exchanging a knowing look with Bo-Katan, (Y/N) rested a hand on the side on her husband’s beskar helmet and gently coaxed him to look over at her before placing her hand flat on the center of his chestplate, directly over his heart. “But you and Bo-Katan stopped his plan before anyone was hurt; you saved the citizens of Plazir, and you saved the innocent droids that Commissioner Helgait hijacked to carry out his bidding. I know that that wasn’t easy for you, sweetheart, and I’m proud of you.”

Din’s gloved hand moved to cradle her cheek and guided her closer to rest his forehead against hers in a brief but meaningful Keldabe Kiss. “Thank you, alor’ad.” After a long moment, he pulled away and looked down at the leather-bound portfolio resting on her lap. “I’m glad that you were able to reclaim a piece of your mother and had the opportunity to see first-hand the lasting impact of her artistry. Can I take a look at her design sketches?”

“Now approaching landing field three.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to grant him permission but when she caught sight of Bo-Katan staring pensively out at the vibrant green fields surrounding the domed city, she carefully tucked the portfolio into her satchel and nudged her husband’s boot with her own as she replied, “Maybe later, after we…um, talk to the Mandalorian mercenaries.”

Din nodded and when (Y/N) patted his knee, he cleared his throat and addressed the troubled Nite Owl seated across from them. “They’re Mandalorians. You’re their leader. They’re going to follow you.”

The anxious look remained on Bo-Katan’s face as her eyes flicked down to stare at her gloved hands. “I’m not their leader anymore. Axe Woves is.”

“Then what’s your play?”

She sighed and glanced back up to meet their gazes. “I’ll know when I get there.”

“Well, no matter what you decide to do out there, Din and I believe in you; there’s no one who’s better equipped to unite both factions of Mandalorians, Bo.” (Y/N) gave Bo-Katan an encouraging smile, and her heart warmed in her chest when the Nite Owl slowly returned it with one of her own. The hyperloop pod came to a stop and after stepping out onto the platform, they descended the many steps and walked across the vast field to where the Mandalorians established their base camp at its center; dozens of helmetless warriors stared them down as they slowly approached, and (Y/N) mumbled under her breath to Din, “At least when your covert stares, you can’t see all the judgmental looks they’re giving under their helmets.”

The Mandalorian huffed out a quiet chuckle and when the three of them stopped a handful of yards away from the base camp, Axe Woves straightened his back but remained seated on his cargo box and took a sip from his cup as he exchanged a glance with Koska Reeves, the Mandalorian warrior who’d helped them rescue Grogu from Moff Gideon. “Have you come back to join the mercenaries?”

Bo-Katan shook her head. “I’ve come to reclaim my fleet.”

“It’s no longer your fleet, is it?” Axe chuckled, gesturing around at the many ships and warriors that surrounded them. “I’m now in command, and grown quite fond of it.”

“Then I challenge you, one warrior to another.” (Y/N) and Din exchanged a look and Grogu anxiously cooed as the grin slipped off of Axe’s face and the Mandalorian mercenaries murmured amongst themselves; the Nite Owl’s stony expression remained unchanged as she stepped forward and harshly continued. “Do you accept my challenge?”

Setting his cup down, Axe slowly got to his feet and clenched his gloved hands at his side. “I do.”

There was tension in the air as the two Mandalorians stared each other down and the helmetless warriors seemingly held their breaths as they stood completely still and waited in anticipation for the challenge to begin. In the blink of an eye, Axe fired a missile from his vambrace and while Bo-Katan used her jetpack to avoid the weapon, Din whisked (Y/N) out of the way and used his beskar-clad body to shield her from the small-scale explosion; (Y/N)’s eyes widened in awe as she watched the Nite Owl slam her Mandalorian opponent onto the ground with a powerful kick to his chest, and she could feel her husband’s arms tighten around her waist when Axe drew his vibro-blade and engaged Bo-Katan in hand-to-hand combat. Both Mandalorians were perfectly matched, slashing and twirling around one another with deadly precision, which made (Y/N) nervously bite her lip even when Bo-Katan managed to knock Axe down a second time.

“It’s okay, kid,” Din comforted Grogu after he hid his face away in his clawed hands to avoid watching Axe fly straight into Bo-Katan and slammed her into the hull of a Kom’rk-class fighter transport. “Bo’s got this.”

They slashed at one another with their blades and each managed to land several blows, the scuffle escalating when Axe fired another missile and Bo-Katan tackled him to the ground; she roughly dragged him to his feet and held her vambrace’s blade to his throat, spitting out, “Do you yield?” With a strangled yell, Axe ignited his jetpack and flew them both into the air, where they landed harshly on the top of another Kom’rk-class fighter transport. They exchanged more blows and Bo-Katan toppled over the edge, but she quickly ignited her jetpack and fired her whipcord to wrap around the Mandalorian mercenary’s ankles, pulling him over the edge and watching him land on the grass below. Axe rolled onto his knee and fired his vambrace’s flamethrower but again, Bo-Katan was quicker; she activated her shield gauntlet to block the flames and flew through the air, tackling Axe onto the ground and pressing the tip of her blade against the exposed skin of his neck. “Do you yield?!”

“You’ll never be the true leader of our people,” Axe spat out, his eyes flicking over to where (Y/N) and Din stood and his lips curled into a sneer. “You won’t even take the Darksaber from him. He’s the one you should be challenging.”

“Enough Mandalorian blood has been spilled by our own hands!” With one final shove, Bo-Katan stood and retracted her vambrace’s blade as she looked around at the assembled Mandalorian mercenaries. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Axe picked himself off the ground and let out a mirthless laugh. “But a misguided zealot possesses the blade. One, I might add, who has not one drop of Mandalorian blood in his veins.”

(Y/N)’s hands clenched into tight fists and she angrily started forward, but Din’s halting grip on her waist and Bo-Katan’s sudden words stopped her dead in her tracks. “Din Djarin took the Creed and chose to walk the way, just as our ancestors did. He is every bit the Mandalorian that they were!” Her husband shifted uncomfortably beside her and she placed a soothing hand on the unarmored part of his arm. “Certainly as much as any of us…”

Shaking his head in frustration, Axe held his hands out and scoffed at the Nite Owl’s argument. “But according to our ways, the ruler of Mandalore must possess the Darksaber.”

“Then she shall have it.” (Y/N), Bo-Katan and the Mandalorian mercenaries all looked over at Din in surprise; the Mandalorian stood tall as he patted (Y/N)’s hand and crossed the field to where Bo-Katan and Axe were standing and without a single ounce of hesitation, he unclipped the Darksaber from his utility belt and held it out for the Nite Owl to take. “This belongs to you.”

Bo-Katan, although visibly touched by Din’s selfless gesture, shook her head and gently replied, “It’s not a gift to be given, no matter how well intended.”

“It’s not a gift,” He countered before turning to address the assembled Mandalorian mercenaries, all while a confused (Y/N) exchanged a look with an equally-baffled Bo-Katan. “While exploring Mandalore, my wife and I were captured and this blade was taken from me. Bo-Katan rescued us and slayed our captor. She defeated the enemy that defeated me; would this blade then not belong to her?” The Mandalorian mercenaries murmured amongst themselves, but none of them spoke up until Din repeated his question. “Would it not belong to her?”

After a long moment, Axe sighed and gave him a relenting nod. “It would.”

A smile tugged on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips as she watched her husband turn back to face Bo-Katan and once again held the Darksaber out for her to take. “I return this blade to its rightful owner.”

The Nite Owl slowly lifted her hand and wrapped her gloved fingers around the hilt, the look of uncertainty etched across her face slowly morphing into self-assurance when Din made his way back to where (Y/N) stood with Grogu’s pram and the other Mandalorians followed Koska’s lead in deferentially bowing their heads. With the barest hint of a smile, Bo-Katan took a deep breath and ignited the blade, staring down at its luminous glow and recognizing the culmination of nearly a thousand years of Mandalorian history in that moment.

“And you claim that you’re not one for politics,” (Y/N) teased when Din reached them and placed her hands on her hips as she arched an impressed brow. “I have to say, that was a political maneuver worthy of the New Republic Senate.”

“Coming from a former Rebel, I’ll take that as a compliment.” The Mandalorian patted a babbling Grogu on the head and handed over his silver sphere. “I never wanted the Darksaber, or the right to rule Mandalore. Bo-Katan is the leader that can reunite both factions Mandalorians, and I’ll be satisfied doing anything I can to ensure that her quest succeeds and our people can live a more peaceful life.”

With a tender smile, (Y/N) looped her arm around her husband’s elbow and stretched to press a kiss onto the beskar covering his cheek. “We both will.”

Din nodded and the two of them watched as the Mandalorian mercenaries offered their respects to Bo-Katan and acknowledged her claim to leadership of their faction. They were one crucial step forward on the road to reuniting the divided Mandalorians, but it was clear to each of them that they still had much more work ahead of them. Now we’ve gotta convince the mercenaries and the covert to get along and resist the urge to kill one another, (Y/N) thought to herself with an inward sigh, but if anyone can successfully squash generations of conflict and infighting, I suppose it’s us.

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty
The Exiled

“I hope these two groups get along.” The worry lacing Bo-Katan’s words made Din look up from the blaster he’d been reassembling after a thorough cleaning, and he noted the tension in the Nite Owl’s shoulders as she piloted the Gauntlet down onto the surface of Nevarro; in their absence, the Mandalorian covert had gathered its remaining members from their old planet and established a thriving settlement on the outskirts of the city, its population evenly numbering the Mandalorian mercenaries accompanying them alongside their stolen fleet. “They’ve never met, and what little they know of each other, they hate.”

Din shrugged and went back to reassembling his blaster. “They will if they wanna survive.”

“You know, this isn’t all that different from what happened between the Naboo and the Gungans,” (Y/N) pointed out, tucking her holopad into her satchel and standing to retrieve Grogu from Bo-Katan’s lap. “For centuries, both societies hated one another but under the threat of an invasion by the Trade Federation, they were able to set aside their differences, work together to successfully defeat their common enemy and bring about an age of peace for Naboo.” Cradling the child in the crook of her arm, the captain placed a comforting hand on Bo-Katan’s shoulder and gave her a small smile. “Both groups may hate one another now, but they have more in common than they think. Once they realize that, they’ll finally see the benefits in working together.”

The Nite Owl returned her smile as she prepared the starfighter for landing. “Well, I certainly hope that the Mandalorians down there all share your optimism, Captain.”

The Gauntlet touched down and as the ramp extended itself, (Y/N) placed Grogu in his floating pram and Bo-Katan slipped her helmet back on while Din holstered his blaster, a part of him hoping that he wouldn’t be forced to draw it after both factions met. They followed Bo-Katan down the ramp and across the flats to where the Mandalorian covert was gathered behind the Armorer and Paz Vizsla; after taking a quick glance around at the rest of the stolen fleet, Din noticed that the Mandalorian mercenaries had wisely donned their helmets before exiting their ships. The gesture of goodwill wouldn’t go unnoticed by the covert, but Din knew that it still wouldn’t be enough to gain their immediate trust or approval.

Bo-Katan and the Mandalorian mercenaries stopped before the assembled covert, the tension of the momentous moment filling the air and making even Din hold his breath in anticipation for whatever would happen next; he rolled his eyes and forced himself not to sigh in exasperation when the mercenaries all removed their helmets in unison, and a muscle in (Y/N)’s jaw tightened as her narrowed eyes watched Paz’s reaction to Bo-Katan slowly removing hers in solidarity. Both sides sized each other up and just when it seemed as though the tension would finally come to a head, the Armorer banged her tools together and called out, “Welcome, fellow Mandalorians. We invite you to make camp.” She turned to look at Paz, who reluctantly assumed a more relaxed stance under her pointed stare. “Let us prepare a feast for our guests.”

The Mandalorian covert was seemingly more at-ease as they broke away to follow the Armorer’s command, but the mercenaries remained where they were until Bo-Katan roughly patted Axe Woves’ chestplate and led them back to the fleet. (Y/N) whistled a low tune and turned to Din with a shrug of difference. “Well, that wasn’t quite the reaction I was hoping for…but since no one died or got seriously maimed, I suppose I’ll count it as a success.”

“They’ll warm up to one another soon, alor’ad, just as you said,” Din reassured his worried wife, pursing his lips as his gaze flicked between Paz Vizsla and Axe Woves’ distant figures and snorting at the effortless and inexplicable way both Mandalorians appeared to irritate one another. “But don’t be surprised if a couple of fights break out before they do…”

“Mando! (Y/N)!” They turned to see Greef Karga walking their way; a warm smile illuminated the High Magistrate’s face and while his protocol droid struggled to keep up with him on the uneven ground, he chuckled and excitedly shook both Din and (Y/N)’s hands. “Welcome back, my friends! Welcome back!” He gestured towards the docked starfighters, starships and the Imperial light cruiser and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s quite a fleet you two have assembled.” With another smile, Greef handed (Y/N) the ornate glass bottle he’d been clutching in his gloved hands. “Little welcome gift to celebrate our new neighbors; that’s all the way from Coruscant, so you might wanna wait for a smaller gathering before you open it.”

Din gave his old friend a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

“After the…um, interesting week we’ve had, I’m sure that we’ll be able to find the time to enjoy a drink or two with our new friends,” The captain replied as she examined the elaborate bottle with interest before carefully tucking it into her satchel and looking up at the High Magistrate with a bright smile on her face. “Thank you, Greef.”

“Of course, Captain, but that’s not the only gift I have for you.”

(Y/N) arched a curious brow and Din returned her quizzical look with a shrug before resting a gloved hand on the small of her back and following Greef across the lava flats towards the city. Grogu’s coos of interest from his floating pram as they walked through the bustling streets made Din smile beneath his helmet, but his smile faltered when he spotted the handful of construction sites that were the result of Pirate King Gorian Shard’s attack on Nevarro. “I hope that the damage to the city hasn’t been too severe.”

Greef shot him a reassuring smile as he glanced over his shoulder at them. “Oh, it’s nothing that the good people of Nevarro can’t handle, Mando. Your people have been instrumental in helping us move past Gorian Shard’s siege by aiding with our rebuilding efforts; in no time at all, Nevarro will be returned to all its formal glory and if our new neighbors truly intend on retaking Mandalore, then our planet will be the first in what will surely be a long line of allies to your people’s homeworld.”

“The Mandalorians will be lucky to have such a loyal ally in Nevarro and its people,” The captain remarked, reaching down to slip her hand into Din’s and give it a gentle squeeze; his wife’s touch was a stark reminder of how long it had been since he’d gotten the chance to look at her without his helmet’s visor getting in the way and now that they were back on Nevarro, the tract of land promised to them by the High Magistrate was beckoning to him more than ever. He’d finally have a place where he could safely remove his helmet for his wife and foundling, a place where all three of them could finally feel safe after spending the majority of their lives surrounded by the life-threatening anarchy that made up the galaxy. It’ll be ours to enjoy the moment our people have reclaimed Mandalore, Din vowed to himself, his longing for a quiet life to enjoy with his family kept at bay by the silent promise he made.

Once they were standing in Greef’s office, the protocol droid left to retrieve their next surprise and returned with a familiar face in tow. IG-11 was just as tall and imposing as Din remembered him to be before his untimely death, but it only took him a moment to realize that while the former assassin droid looked like his old and unexpected friend, there was something lifeless about him as he stiffly walked into the office. “What did you do to IG-11?” He asked, his brow furrowing when he spotted the Anzellan seemingly piloting the droid’s body from the hollowed-out crevice where he’d once stored thermal detonators during his bounty hunting days. From his spot on the office’s illuminated tabletop, Grogu tilted his head and let out a puzzled sound, and (Y/N) shot Din a look of confusion as she smoothed a comforting hand over the child’s wrinkled head.

“No, that’s IG-12 now.” The High Magistrate’s proud expression never faltered even as he took in Din and (Y/N)’s equally-baffled reactions. “Do you like him?”

“Do I like him?”

“It…he looks great, Greef, it’s just that…” (Y/N), struggling to find the words to express their trepidation, bit her lip and looked the droid’s body over before blurting out, “Are we sure that he won’t attack again?”

“Don’t worry, Captain, I assure you he’s safe.”

Din frowned beneath his helmet and took a step closer to Grogu. “You’re sure?”

Nodding, Greef gestured towards the droidsmith operating a set of controls from the hollowed-out crevice in the IG unit’s chest. “Well, the Anzellans stripped IG down to his base motor functions. They removed his memory circuit, and the pilot provides cognition.”

“Yes,” IG-11’s familiar voice answered when the Anzellan pressed a button on the droid’s control panel.

Grogu’s excited coo caused (Y/N) to disguise her giggle with a cough and when Din turned back to face Greef, he simply shrugged and watched the Anzellan crawl down from his perch. “Think of it this way: it’s more like a vehicle. Hmm? It’s safer that way!”

The Anzellan hopped onto the tabletop and his little eyes widened in terror when he spotted Grogu walking towards him. “Bad baby! No squeezie!”

While the droidsmith scampered away and continued to grumble about Grogu’s past antics in rapid Anzellan, Din looked between the child and the former assassin droid’s body, his jaw dropping when he finally understood the significance of Greef’s gift. “Well, he’s too little to operate this thing-”

“No, no, no, no. Let’s see if he fits.” Din turned to (Y/N), fully expecting his wife to veto the High Magistrate’s idea and insist that the child wasn’t old enough to pilot the repurposed droid, but to his surprise, she stepped aside and allowed Greef to place Grogu into the hollowed-out crevice; he shot her a pointed look and when she gave him a helpless shrug, he sighed in exasperation, tightly crossed his arms over his armored chest and looked on as their friend placed the child into the crevice. Grogu settled into the narrow space and placed his clawed hands onto the controls, causing Greef to chuckle and turn to them both with a bright grin on his face. “So, what do you two think?”

(Y/N)’s eyes sparkled with mirth, and she was doing her best to keep a smile from forming on her lips. “I think that it’s wonderful, Greef. Din?”

“…They do nice work, I’ll give them that,” He answered as diplomatically as he could and shook his head. “But Grogu is too young to operate heavy machinery.”

The captain arched a brow. “Sweetheart, he’s older than us both.”

“Well, maybe when he’s older-”

“No.”

Both Din and (Y/N)’s heads whipped around to look at Grogu, whose clawed hand was still resting on the button he’d pushed to communicate with them, and Din’s gloved hands moved to rest on his hips as he incredulously asked, “What do you mean, ‘No?’”

“No.”

“I think he’s saying he’s old enough to operate it,” Greef chuckled.

“Yes.”

Din shook his head again. “Mmm-mmm, get him out of there.”

“No.”

“At least let him try it out in the office.” (Y/N) rested a hand on the unarmored part of his arm and stared up at him with imploring (Y/E/C) eyes. “Greef went to all the trouble to have this made for him, after all.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Din sternly replied to Grogu before turning back to (Y/N); while he normally couldn’t resist his wife’s pleas, Din remained steadfast and refused to give in. “Alor’ad, this is not a good idea.” He turned away before she could argue and reached for the child. “C’mon, kid.” Instead of listening, Grogu used the controls to push Din out of the way and began piloting the droid around the office. “Hey-”

The droid stumbled over its feet and nearly knocked over the bust of Greef Karga, but the High Magistrate’s proud grin never faltered as he looked over at Din and (Y/N). “Will you look at that?”

“Yes.”

Din sighed in annoyance as he addressed Grogu’s enthusiastic voice command. “‘Yes’ what?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Resisting the urge to cross the room and detach the droid’s vocabulators with his bare hands, Din turned back around to face the captain and rested his hands back on his hips. “(Y/N), do you seriously think that this is a good idea? What if he gets hurt or accidentally hurts someone else with that thing? That very annoying, very loud thing he can barely control?”

(Y/N) tilted her head to the side as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, Din, I seem to recall you trusting him enough to let him crawl into the wall of the Razor Crest and reconnect live wiring; how is this any more dangerous than that?”

“Hey, that was your idea, not mine.”

“But you went along with it.”

“…Technically, yes, and that situation ended just as badly as this one inevitably will,” Din hastily added as a smug smile graced his wife’s features, and he looked over at his old friend for some much-needed assistance. “Karga?”

The High Magistrate raised his hands in surrender. “I’d rather not insert myself into a marital quarrel, Mando…however, I’d be remiss not to remind you that your stunning wife also happens to be a rather fantastic pilot; if she can teach your covert’s young foundlings how to fly, then surely she can teach this little one how to control IG-12.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

As (Y/N) watched Grogu toddle around the office with unabashed triumph written across her face, a miffed Din said his goodbyes to Greef and led his clan out onto the streets of Nevarro. “I still think that this IG-12 is a terrible idea. Grogu gets into enough mischief as it is; he doesn’t need any added temptation to cause even more.”

“And I think that Grogu only wants to be an equal in our clan,” (Y/N) countered and when Din shot her a questioning look, she fell into step beside him and continued. “Lately, he always insists on coming along whenever I’ve flown a mission and he was nearly hysterical when you went off on your own on Mandalore. It’s possible that IG-12 helps him feel more independent and puts him on the same level as us, both height-wise and in terms of abilities.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“And you’re telling me you don’t find the vocabulators on IG-12 to be incredibly annoying?”

Din arched a skeptical brow when (Y/N) cleared her throat and gave him an overly-cheerful smile. “The novelty will wear off in no time, sweetheart. You’ll see.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“…That wasn’t exactly an answer, alor’ad.”

“Yes, it was.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it-wait, why’d he stop using the vocabulators?” (Y/N) quickly whipped her head around to see where Grogu went, and her eyes widened in shock when Din nudged her arm and pointed to one of the street vendors’ food stalls; the child was controlling the droid’s hand to grab a cup of nuts and stuffing them into his tiny mouth, only quickening his actions when he noticed Din and (Y/N) hurrying over to him. “What are you doing? Stop, Grogu!”

“No, you have to pay for those.” Din wrenched the cup of nuts out of the droid’s grasp and hastily pressed several credits into the indignant Tarsunt vendor’s hand with a murmured word of apology; the Tarsunt’s grumbles only continued and when Din turned, he saw that Grogu had picked up a meiloorun fruit. “No.”

“Yes.”

(Y/N) reached for the meiloorun but the child held it high over their heads. “Hey, Grogu-”

“No.”

“Give me the fruit, Grogu.”

“No.”

“Grogu, give it ba-” The captain’s words were cut short when the droid’s hand inadvertently squeezed the meiloorun too tightly and sent a stream of juice shooting directly into her face; Grogu whimpered, realizing that he’d gone too far with his antics, and released the squashed meiloorun, and Din handed the vendor several more credits as (Y/N) wiped some juice away with the sleeve of her coat. While Din quickly ushered them away from the vendors’ food stalls before they could cause another scene, (Y/N) shot Grogu a stern look that would’ve intimidated a rancor. “Okay, this isn’t working for me.”

Din cleared his throat in a vain attempt to mask his chuckles. “I take it that it’s too soon to say I told you so?”

“Mir’sheb.”

“I love you too, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, the Mandalorian mercenaries were finishing up their meal while the members of the Mandalorian covert gathered around and talked amongst themselves; both factions watched one another like loth-cats, distrust written across the mercenaries’ uncovered faces and tension apparent in the covert’s armor-clad bodies. Din and (Y/N) sat with Grogu by one of the many bonfires scattered throughout the encampment and while his small clan half-heartedly ate their dinner, Din kept a watchful eye on both groups of Mandalorians, knowing that the stress of interacting after so many years of conflict was bound to boil over into a fight. Maybe Bo-Katan will find the words to deescalate both sides before that happens, he thought to himself as he watched the Nite Owl stride into the center of the encampment and take a reassuring breath before addressing her fellow warriors.

“Mandalorians.” The quiet chattering amongst the crowd vanished as Mandalorians from both factions respectfully listened as Bo-Katan loudly continued. “It is time to retake our homeworld. Even though the planet is not cursed, there are still dangers; thanks to Clan Mudhorn and their brave exploration of Mandalore, we now know that dormant species have been awakened from the bombings and the remaining magnetic interference has made it impossible to scan the surface from above atmosphere.” Several Mandalorian mercenaries glanced over at Din and (Y/N) with curious eyes, but they both remained focused on the Nite Owl pacing amongst the gathering. “Which is why I’m proposing that we leave Nevarro and move the fleet into orbit above Mandalore. We send down a small recon party, we’ll scout the surface, find out what remains of the Great Forge, and establish a safe perimeter. Only then, will we bring down the others.” She glanced around at the assemblage before her, and Din could almost see her bracing herself for an unfavorable reaction when she announced, “I need volunteers from both tribes.”

The Mandalorians that surrounded the bonfires all exchanged apprehensive looks and remained silent under the weight of Bo-Katan’s request. When Din looked over at (Y/N), she was already looking at him with a determined gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes and he could feel his heart warm at the sign of his wife’s unwavering loyalty to the Mandalorian covert; he held his hand out to her and waited for her to thread her fingers around his before standing beside her. “We will go.”

“Grogu as well,” (Y/N) added, and the corner of Din’s mouth curved into a smile when the child softly cooed and clambered to his feet.

Bo-Katan gave them a nod of thanks and glanced over in time to see Koska Reeves stand, holding her helmet under her arm and giving her fellow Nite Owl the barest of smiles. “I will go.”

“I will go,” Axe Woves called out as he got to his feet and bowed his head in deference.

Din’s brows shot up in surprise beneath his helmet while he watched Paz Vizsla of all people rise to his feet and loudly declare, “I will go.”

One by one, over a dozen Mandalorians from both tribes stood and pledged their assistance to Bo-Katan, who struggled to maintain a neutral expression under such a display of unity and allegiance. As the last Mandalorian made their vow, the Armorer stepped forward bowed her helmeted head in respect. “I will go as well.”

The smile that the Nite Owl had been fighting to suppress finally broke out across her face, and she threw Din and (Y/N) a look of pleasant surprise just as Mandalorian mercenaries and members of the covert converged around her; while both factions finally began to mingle with one another, Din and (Y/N) took Grogu to their tent and coaxed the child to sleep in preparation for the long and difficult day they’d be facing in the morning.

“Everything okay, alor’ad?” Din quietly asked, a frown forming on his newly uncovered face as he watched the captain unbuckle her holster and tug her boots off, the tell-tale line that signaled a troubling thought appearing between her brows while they both prepared for bed.

(Y/N) shook her head to clear her mind and flashed him a brief smile of reassurance. “Mmm-hmm, I’m fine.”

Unconvinced, Din adjusted the blanket covering Grogu in his pram and slowly crossed the tent to stand behind his wife, gently taking hold of her shoulders and rubbing soothing circles against her stiff muscles. “Ner kotir alor’ad. You don’t have to hide what you’re feeling from me.”

“It’s just…” She trailed off and turned around to face him before continuing. “We have a solid plan and a group of loyal warriors on our side, but I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen on Mandalore.”

“Is it possible that our exploration of Mandalore is what’s making you feel that way?” Din asked and when she shrugged noncommittally, he cupped her face between his bare hands and gave her an encouraging smile. “Everything’s going to be fine, (Y/N). We’re better equipped to explore Mandalore now and more importantly, we still have one another. Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I swear on all the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

The anxious look in (Y/N)’s eyes softened at his utterance of their familiar vow as she wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “Ner cyar’ika beroya, I swear on all the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

“This is the Way,” Din murmured, leaning down and capturing his wife’s lips in a long and meaningful kiss, the fear of what might occur the next day put far out of both of their minds.

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-One
The Trap

All through the morning, (Y/N) kept herself busy by helping the Mandalorian mercenaries tune the engines of their starfighters and load supplies onto the light cruiser, and although they were grueling tasks for a sleep-deprived woman to complete, they worked to distract her from the feeling of foreboding that stubbornly persisted from the night before. The moment that she boarded the Gauntlet alongside Din and Grogu, however, there was nothing to divert her attention away from the inexplicable anxiety weighing on her mind; she didn’t have the N-1 to pilot or even her sewing supplies to keep herself busy, and there were only so many times that she could disassemble and clean her already spotless blaster. You’re just thinking about all the bad experiences we went through the last time we were on Mandalore, she reminded herself as the heel of her boot continued to tap against the floor and her fingers fiddled with a loose thread dangling off the hem of her coat’s sleeve, wishing that she could give in and forget about the ominous sensation filling the pit of her stomach.

“No.”

(Y/N) shook herself out of her reverie and a smile played on her lips when she saw IG-12 standing in front of her seat. “Hey, little guy. Whatcha mean, ‘No?’” Grogu cooed and operated the droid’s hand to take hold of hers and gently guide it away from the loose thread, making (Y/N) chuckle and look back up at the child with pride. “That’s right: pulling the thread will only cause more damage to the garment’s stitching. You’d make quite the seamstress’ apprentice, Grogu.”

He giggled when she tickled the patch of skin beneath his chin and pressed a clawed hand against one of the console’s button. “Yes.”

“We’re coming out of hyperspace,” Din announced, walking up to the pair and tilting his helmeted head to the side as he considered them. “Are you ready, alor’ad?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, but Grogu and his vocabulators beat her to it. “Yes.”

The Mandalorian heaved a weary sigh and shook his head in exasperation. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“It’s beginning to grow on me but I won’t lie, that meiloorun incident wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement of Greef’s…generous gift.” Standing, (Y/N) rolled her coat’s sleeves up and patted her husband’s beskar-clad chest. “Now, let’s go and reclaim your people’s home.”

Din leaned down to connect their foreheads in a brief but meaningful Keldabe Kiss and while (Y/N) forced herself to pull away from his comforting touch, she could hear Bo-Katan call into the starfighter’s communication radio, “Scouting party descending to surface.” As she piloted the Gauntlet down through the tempestuous upper atmosphere of Mandalore, the Nite Owl spared the trio a brief glance over her shoulder. “We’ll lose comms shortly.”

“I’ll go and check on our drop troops,” Din volunteered and gave (Y/N)’s hand a brief squeeze before turning and disappearing into the starfighter’s bomb bay.

“I wish you could’ve seen Mandalore before the Purge.” (Y/N) tore her eyes away from the bomb bay door to look at Bo-Katan, whose grip was tight on the controls as she piloted the Gauntlet out of the raging storms that encased her homeworld. “The songs that were written could hardly do its beauty justice.” The Nite Owl cleared her throat and gave her head a small shake. “And now, I can hardly recognize my own home.”

(Y/N) hesitated a moment before reaching out and giving the unarmored section of Bo-Katan’s shoulder a comforting pat. “It’ll take time, of course, and nothing can ever live up to your memories of your old home, but under your leadership, Mandalore will become a hospitable planet again. You’re all Mandalorians, Bo, and Mandalorians never give up without a fight.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “This is the Way.”

Bo-Katan’s expression brightened with a smile of her own as she nodded once. “This is the Way.”

The bomb bay door slid open and Din stepped through to stand beside (Y/N). “They’re ready.”

“Secure infil zone.” Bo-Katan flipped a switch and a moment later, the sound of the drop troops launching into their free-fall filled the cockpit. “And now we wait…”

(Y/N) peered down at the planet’s crystalized surface and watched the tiny beskar-clad figures survey their charted landing zone with bated breath, the tension leaving her shoulders when the voice of Axe Woves came through the starfighter’s communication radio. “Gauntlet, landing zone secure.”

The Nite Owl engaged the landing sequence and when the starfighter touched down onto the barren stretch of land, (Y/N) accompanied Din and Grogu as they followed Bo-Katan and the Armorer down the ramp. A series of panicked beeps forced her to glance back and watch R5-D4 roll after them; the astromech droid, despite his less-than-happy memories of Mandalore, was too afraid to stay behind on the Gauntlet and despite Din’s grumbling, she gave him a commlink and told him to contact them the moment he needed any assistance. All of the Mandalorians that made up the scouting party wore their beskar helmets, but the stiffness in their stances and the way they gripped their blasters told (Y/N) that being on their people’s ancestral planet was making them uneasy.

“Somewhere below is where our ancestral capital once stood.” Bo-Katan’s gloved hand held tight to her helmet as she addressed the scouting party. “We’ll survey the surface until we find the Forge and create a safety zone. Only then will we begin to bring down the settlers.” (Y/N) gave Bo-Katan an encouraging nod and the Nite Owl pointed towards the horizon. “We’ll start scouting in that direction.” She strode through their group and slipped on her helmet before calling out, “Form up!”

The Mandalorians followed her command and filed after her, leaving Din and (Y/N) walking at the back alongside Grogu and the Armorer. They hadn’t made it far when a low rumble joined the thundering high above them and the crystalized ground began to shake with deep tremors; (Y/N) hovered her hand over the hilt of her blaster as Din pointed towards the distance. “There, on the horizon.”

A cloud of dust and debris had formed in the distance and was only growing larger as it neared them and when the shape of a massive langskib became visible, (Y/N) and Din drew their blasters while Bo-Katan and the Mandalorian mercenaries lowered their helmet’s rangefinders in synchronization. “Nite Owls.”

“Flanking left,” Axe called, moving into a defensive formation alongside his fellow Mandalorians and crouching behind the rock formations that emerged from the crystalized surface.

Din held a gloved hand out to keep Grogu behind them and (Y/N) spared the concerned child a brief smile. “Everything’s gonna be okay, little guy, don’t worry.” She returned her focus to the langskib and tightened her grip on her blaster as the craft slowed to a stop. “If they’re not friendly, then we’ll handle them.”

The tension-filled silence that filled the clearing was finally broken by a man’s voice emanating from the deck of the langskib. “Do you have food?”

“We do,” Bo-Katan called back, lifting her rangefinder while the rest of the scouting party continued to hold their weapons at the ready.

“You wear the crest of the Nite Owls?”

Bo-Katan seemed taken aback by the man’s pointed question. “I should hope so.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw the Armorer take a curious step forward. “They’re Mandalorians.”

(Y/N) exchanged a look of surprise with Din and murmured, “Mandalorians have been living here since the Purge?”

Her husband wordlessly shook his head as another man’s voice called out, “Is that the voice of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze?”

“…It is.”

Immediately, three Mandalorians flew down from the towering langskib and gracefully landed in front of them; the Nite Owl signaled to them to hold their fire, but several members of their scouting party had already lowered their blasters by the time the Mandalorians removed their helmets and bowed their heads in respect. “We knew you would not forsake us, Lady Bo-Katan,” The first Mandalorian humbly spoke. “We have failed you, but our blasters remain in your service.”

The rest of their scouting party slowly relaxed and holstered their weapons as they lowly talked amongst themselves about their new discovery, but (Y/N) carefully watched Bo-Katan and took note of the unusual caginess in her posture; perhaps there’s something that she hasn’t told anyone about the day Mandalore was decimated by the Empire, she thought to herself, a troubled frown forming on her face while she followed Din, Grogu and the rest of the Mandalorians as they trekked to the well-worn langskib in the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They intercepted any ships they saw leaving…” The former Mandalorian captain explained later that evening, after they’d welcomed their unexpected guests onto their langskib with a meager but much-appreciated meal. (Y/N) was seated between Grogu and Paz Vizsla at the long table extended across the upper deck, tearing strips of salted meat into pieces and handing them one at a time to the child while she listened to the Mandalorian’s story with rapt attention. “They took no prisoners. They bombed every surface twice-over. They punished us as a warning to the whole galaxy, because we refused to surrender.”

“That’s not true.” Everyone seated at the table looked to its head and saw the shadow of guilt that graced Bo-Katan’s features. “I did surrender.” (Y/N)’s heart sank as the Mandalorian survivors began to murmur amongst themselves and when Koska opened her mouth to defend her old friend, Bo-Katan gestured for her to stand down and swallowed thickly before continuing. “After our forces were annihilated in the Night of a Thousand Tears and defeat was imminent, I met with Moff Gideon. The ISB had reached out to me to negotiate a cease-fire; in exchange for submitting to the Empire and disarming, all remaining cities and Mandalorian lives were to be spared.” The Nite Owl looked down at the scuffed surface of the table to avoid the gazes fixed on her. “This is how Moff Gideon came to possess the Darksaber. I didn’t trust him, but it was the only chance I had to save our people.” Grogu let out a sad coo and (Y/N) rested a hand on his small back for comfort. “And then, he betrayed me and we were helpless to resist the Purge of Mandalore.”

The Mandalorian scout took in Bo-Katan’s explanation and looked across the table at Din, Paz and the Armorer. “How did these others survive?”

“We were hidden on the moon of Concordia,” The Armorer explained and Din nodded in confirmation.

The former captain’s brow furrowed in distrust. “Are you Death Watch?”

“Death Watch exists no longer. It shattered into many warring factions.”

Bo-Katan struggled to keep her emotions in check as she addressed the Mandalorians seated around her. “Our people have suffered time and again, from division and squabbling factions. Mandalore has always been too powerful for any enemy to defeat; it is always our own division that destroys us.”

While everyone seated around the table took in her regret-filled words, Bo-Katan quietly stood and crossed the deck to stand at the langskib’s bow, leaving the gathering of Mandalorians to awkwardly converse with one another as they finished up their meal. The mercenaries and the covert members volunteered to help nurse some of the surviving Mandalorians back to health and since she knew that they’d have a long day ahead of them in the morning, (Y/N) coaxed Grogu out of the IG-12 suit and worked on rocking the stubborn child to sleep while Din absentmindedly rubbed his thumb across the back of his wrinkled head.

“Hearing what really happened after the Night of a Thousand Tears…what Bo-Katan was forced to do, only for Moff Gideon to betray her and initiate the Purge…” Din shook his helmeted head and quietly sighed. “I can’t imagine being put in that position and living all those years with the weight of the consequences on my mind.”

(Y/N) waited until Grogu’s eyelids finally stayed closed to look up at her husband and whisper, “Bo’s had a pretty rough start to this scouting expedition; if I was her, I could really do with a few words of understanding right about now.”

She tilted her head towards the bow of the langskib and after a brief moment of hesitation, Din nodded once and slowly approached the morose Nite Owl, pausing only to affectionately bump his forehead against hers; as Din slowly approached Bo-Katan, who was looking out at the desolate wasteland that had once been her home, (Y/N) perched herself on the edge of a nearby cargo box and listened in on the Mandalorian’s modulated statement. “I had no idea. We were taught that everyone but us had forsaken the Way, that you were selfish and uncaring. Now, I understand.”

“You were right.” The Nite Owl’s back was to them both, but (Y/N) didn’t need to see her face to detect the pain that laced her every word. “I was selfish, and this is what it wrought.”

Din glanced over his shoulder and when (Y/N) flashed him a small smile of encouragement, he turned back around and took a step forward. “We’ll rebuild it. Isn’t that our history? For thousands of years, we have been on the verge of extinction and for thousands of years, we have survived.”

Bo-Katan whirled around to face him, her swirling emotions finally getting the better of her. “I don’t know if I can keep everyone together. There’s too much animosity, and this blade-” She reached for the hilt of the Darksaber fastened to her utility belt. “-is all I have to unify our people.”

“I only know of this weapon what you taught me. To be honest, it means nothing to me or my people, nor does station or bloodline; why do you think they’ve so readily accepted my riduur and our foundling into the covert? What matters more to me is honor. And loyalty, and character. These are the reasons I serve you, Lady Kryze.” Bo-Katan looked up at Din, and the cautious hopefulness that glistened in her eyes made (Y/N)’s heart clench in sympathy for all the hardships she’d endured since the Clone Wars. “Your song is not yet written…” The Mandalorian held his clenched fist against his chest as a mark of respect and bowed his helmeted head. “I will serve you until it is.”

(Y/N)’s heart swelled with pride for her husband and as he made his way over to where she sat, she watched Bo-Katan take a steadying breath before crossing the deck to join the other Mandalorians, her confidence returning with every sure-footed step she took. “I know that you never truly had any interest in leading the Mandalorians, sweetheart, but believe me, you would’ve made one hell of a leader.”

Taking a seat on the cargo box beside her, Din took a sleeping Grogu from her and cradled him against his beskar-covered chest with one arm while wrapping the other around her waist. “With you by my side, it would’ve been a slice of uj’alayi; any leader would be lucky to have an advisor and confidant only as half as skilled as you, alor’ad.” Instead of answering, (Y/N) pressed a soft kiss onto the beskar covering her husband’s mouth and leaned against him, the both of them listening in as Bo-Katan’s insecurities gave way to her natural leadership skills.

“We’ll rest tonight and continue at first light.”

“These here are too weak to continue,” The Armorer countered and gestured towards the cots occupied by the injured and sick Mandalorian survivors. “We must return to the Gauntlet, and I will ferry them back to the fleet in the morning.”

Bo-Katan nodded. “Agreed.” She looked over at the former Mandalorian captain, who was preoccupied with treating an unconscious warrior at a nearby cot and only looked away when the Nite Owl addressed him. “Captain? Those of you who are well enough can join us in the search for the Great Forge.”

“We can do better than that.” The ghost of a smile formed on the former captain’s lips. “We can bring you there.”

Although (Y/N) should’ve been thrilled that their scouting expedition was receiving substantial aid from a group of loyal and honorable Mandalorians, the only thing that she could focus on while she and Din drifted off to sleep later that night was the resurgence of the foreboding weight in the pit of her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning – much like the morning before on Nevarro – was filled with a flurry of activity, with the Armorer piloting the sick and injured Mandalorian survivors up to where their fleet was located in Mandalore’s orbit in the Gauntlet and the langskib making its way across the planet’s crystalized surface towards the Great Forge. Unlike the previous morning, (Y/N) found herself putting her uneasiness aside as she busied herself with repairing tears in the langskib’s sails and braiding new lines of rope. The work was challenging and far from the sort of work that a former seamstress was used to, but (Y/N) was happy to share her knowledge with the Mandalorians and offer them assistance; she was able to dabble in her old trade and as a bonus, she found a task that kept her lingering worry off her mind. Maybe I should consider expanding the services I’ll offer when I open my shop someday, she thought with a tranquil smile and continued to expertly weave the bundles of fibers together with skilled fingers.

The sound of a scuffle breaking out was enough to shatter (Y/N)’s concentration, and she looked up from her complex work to see Paz and Axe engaged in a vicious duel on the lower deck. “Oh, for Maker’s sake…” Setting her half-finished rope down, (Y/N) got up and moved to stand between Din and Bo-Katan at the railing with a weary sigh. “I’d like to say that I’m surprised, but what’s the point in lying?”

Din nodded in agreement and looked over at the Nite Owl. “Should I step in?”

“Neither side can stop it,” Bo-Katan explained, but her brow was furrowed in concern as she watched the Mandalorian men struggle over a vibroblade. “Like the Captain said, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

(Y/N) pursed her lips as Axe held back Paz’s vibroblade and the larger Mandalorian knocked him onto the ground, and she winced when the mercenary activated his jetpack and used his locked arms to trip Paz, taking advantage of the distraction to scoop up the vibroblade before they both staggered to their feet. The other Mandalorians wore matching looks of exasperation while they watched both men continue their fight but just when (Y/N) was preparing to return to her rope braiding, she spotted Grogu approaching the fighters in his IG-12 suit and her heart nearly stopped at the sight. Before either she or Din could say or do anything, the child stepped directly between the charging Mandalorians and held them both apart with the droid’s strong arms.

“No. No. No. No. No. No. No.” Grogu pressed the vocabulator’s button over and over, only stopping when Paz and Axe stood down and walked away from one another.

“You taught your apprentice well,” Bo-Katan remarked with the barest hint of a smile.

Din merely shrugged his armored shoulders. “He didn’t learn that from me.” (Y/N)’s face warmed at her husband’s sweet reply and after giving his pauldron a brief kiss, she shot Grogu a proud wink and stifled a giggle when he promptly nodded back.

A sharp whistle was quickly followed up with a shout from the langskib’s crow’s nest. “There, on the starboard bow!”

On the lower deck, Mandalorians gathered their weapons and helmets on their way to the bow of the ship and as (Y/N) looked towards the right of the langskib, the sight of a crumbling mountain of crystalized earth made her wet her dry lips and hesitantly remark, “I don’t think that’s the Great Forge…”

Her suspicions were confirmed when she noticed the Mandalorian survivors slip their helmets on and sprint to their battle stations, and she was quick to follow Din down the steps to get a closer look at the creature breaking through the mountain; it was a trinitaur, a reptilian beast with a pointed outer shell and a club-shaped tail, and they all paused in horror as it opened its jagged beak and released an ear-splitting shriek. The langskib attempted to swerve out of the creature’s way but its hull snagged on the broken shards of earth and pitched to the side, sending warriors stumbling into one another and dragging them closer to the flailing beast.

The shadow of the trinitaur’s tail blocked out the dim afternoon light as one of the Mandalorian survivors cried out over the din, “Abandon ship!”

Mandalorians activated their jetpacks and took to the skies, and (Y/N) was swept into Din’s arms with only a second to brace herself before they flew away from the doomed langskib; her panicked eyes spotted Grogu being carried off by Axe and Paz, but the explosive impact of the trinitaur’s tail smashing the langskib to pieces forced her to bury her face in Din’s singed cowl and tighten her grip on his shoulders. When their boots made contact with the ground, they began sprinting alongside the rest of the Mandalorians towards a small opening half-hidden amongst an outcropping of rock.

“This way! This way!” They came upon the sunken entrance of a cave and after Din jumped down, he helped (Y/N) down and tightly gripped her hand so that they wouldn’t become separated. “Hurry up! Faster!”

The last of the Mandalorians made it into the hidden cave and when they spotted Grogu’s IG-12 suit, (Y/N) breathed a deep sigh of relief as Din pulled her over to where he stood. “You good?” Grogu cooed in fear but when (Y/N) kissed the top of his head in comfort, the cave shook and showered them in rocks and debris. “We can’t stay here with that creature right outside.”

“What about the Great Forge?” (Y/N) asked as she brushed errant strands of hair out of her eyes and frantically looked around the cave for an exit.

“We’re not far, we need to go further down!” The former Mandalorian captain shouted and while the cave continued to shudder around them, they followed one another through the narrow tunnel that the Mandalorian survivor directed him towards. “Go, go go! Go!”

The flashlights affixed to several Mandalorians’ helmets illuminated their path through the winding tunnel, and they only slowed their pace when the tunnel opened out onto a cliff overlooking a cavernous chamber filled with metallic machinery. Several of the Mandalorian mercenaries removed their helmets and after catching sight of the reverent looks that crossed their uncovered faces, (Y/N) knew that they were standing in the middle of someplace deeply sacred to them.

Din fell into step beside her and quietly asked, “Where are we?”

“This is what’s left of the Great Forge.” Axe stopped walking and swallowed thickly. “This was once the heart of our civilization, but the fires have been extinguished since the bombings.”

Paz’s helmeted head tilted in curiosity. “You lived here?”

“We all did,” Koska replied, a glint of sadness filling her dark brown eyes.

The former Mandalorian captain wearily sighed. “We never left. Survived by migrating along the surface until the war ended. Some tried to explore below, but none survived.”

(Y/N) rubbed the spot on her neck where the cyborg injected her with sedatives, but the distant sound of approaching fuel-powered machinery gave her pause and caused her to glance over at her husband in confusion. “Jetpacks?”

Axe arched a skeptical brow. “More survivors?”

A dark look crossed Bo-Katan’s face as she slipped her helmet on and drew her blasters. “Those aren’t Mandalorians.”

It didn’t take them long to catch sight of the two dozen figures flying towards them, and the atmosphere quickly shifted when they realized that they were all encased in the recognizable white armor of Stormtroopers. “They’re Imperials!”

“Take cover!”

Din managed to tackle (Y/N) and Grogu behind a pile of rocks just before blaster bolts flew through the air and after checking that the child was unharmed, (Y/N) drew her blaster and joined the Mandalorians in returning blaster fire. Carefully taking aim, (Y/N) fired and watched in disbelief as the red blaster bolt bounced off the chest of the Stormtrooper; she’d shot countless Stormtroopers before, during and after the Rebellion, and never once had she encountered one who wore armor strong enough to successfully deflect blaster fire. Unless…

“They’re wearing beskar armor!” Axe shouted over the chaotic sounds of the gunfight.

The Stormtroopers took up positions along the cavern’s walls and on the abandoned machinery that had once been the Great Forge of Mandalore, taking advantage of the high ground and sniping the defenseless Mandalorians whenever they took aim at the chinks in their armor. “We’re pinned down!” Din called out to the others while he continued returning blaster fire. “We need back-up!”

“I can make a run for the fleet and get us reinforcements!”

Bo-Katan whirled around to face Axe and shook her helmeted head. “No, it’s too far!”

“I can make it, it’s our only shot at taking the planet back!” The Mandalorian mercenary insisted.

“There’s a split in the ceiling there!” They looked up to where Paz pointed and saw the narrow opening in the ceiling, just large enough for a single flyer to pass through and make their way to the planet’s crystalized surface. “I’ll lay down cover!”

Paz aimed his blaster cannon at the remnants of the Great Forge across from them and fired, the power of the massive weapon succeeding in downing several Stormtroopers and forcing the rest to scramble for cover; the brief moment of distraction allowed Axe to activate his jetpack and speed through the split in the cavern’s ceiling without their enemy realizing. They were quick to recover from Paz’s attack and a dozen of them flew down to attack their right flank, forcing Paz and several other Mandalorians to return blaster fire. (Y/N), realizing that Stormtroopers were descending on their left flank, shook Din’s shoulder and gestured to the breach in their defenses with her blaster. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Using his beskar-covered body as a makeshift shield, Din led (Y/N) into the fray and defended her as she took advantage of their closer proximity to aim her blaster at the crevices in their armor, slamming his fist into a hovering Stormtrooper and shooting the downed Imp until they stopped moving. All around them, the Mandalorians were beginning to seize the upper hand; they used their whipcords to yank Stormtroopers out of the sky, slashed at the exposed sections of their bodies with vibroblades, detonated hand-held charges slapped onto their jetpacks to disable their flight capabilities and kicked the screaming Stormtroopers off the cliff. The onslaught of well-trained warriors proved to be too much for the remaining Stormtroopers to handle, and they quickly retreated on foot through a tunnel leading away from the Great Forge.

“They’re retreating!”

Bo-Katan finished off her opponent with a blaster bolt to the neck and gestured to her fellow Mandalorians. “Advance!”

A battle cry rang out through the cavernous chamber as the Mandalorians thundered after the charging Nite Owl. After checking that (Y/N) was uninjured, Din led her over to where Grogu was pressed against the jagged rock wall and placed a gloved hand on IG-12’s metal shoulder. “Okay, kid. You’ve gotta keep up.”

“Stay close to us, all right, little guy? Everything’s gonna be okay.” When Grogu gave them both a firm nod, she turned to the Mandalorian standing beside her and flashed him a determined smile. “For Mandalore.”

Din tightened his grip on his blaster and mirrored Grogu’s confident nod. “For Mandalore.”

Together, the three of them ran alongside the charging Mandalorians and followed them into the tunnel. While (Y/N) stayed by Grogu’s side and helped his IG-12 suit navigate the suddenly flat tunnel floor, Din ran ahead and helped Paz and Bo-Katan battle the Stormtroopers unsuccessfully attempting to rally themselves against their pursuit; the blaster bolts whizzing past their heads coupled with the frantic shouts of fleeing Stormtroopers meant that it took (Y/N) longer than usual to realize that they were all sprinting down a hallway, and her footsteps began to falter as she struggled to think of why the gun-metal grey walls and polished floor looked so familiar to her.

The Mandalorians charged around the next corner in time to see the remaining Stormtroopers take flight and speed upwards through what appeared to be a hangar; they fired their blasters at the fleeing Imps until they disappeared through the jagged crevice high above but when the shooting ceased, an uneasy feeling settled over the scouting party as they took in their surroundings. The hangar looked far too sterile and technologically-advanced to be a remnant of Mandalore’s great army, but it wasn’t until (Y/N) looked up and saw the dozen TIE Fighters suspended high above them that she realized where they were standing. “Oh, no…”

Bo-Katan refused to lower her blasters as she agitatedly looked around the Imperial hangar. “What is this place?”

Suddenly, the doors behind their group slid shut while a blast door lowered from above, separating several Mandalorians and – to (Y/N)’s utter horror – Din from the rest of the scouting party. “Din!” She pounded her fist against the blast door’s window and a terrified gasp tore itself from her throat when she saw the remaining dozen Stormtroopers descend onto the platform. “Din, behind you!”

“It’s an ambush!” He yelled over the sound of blaster fire coming from both sides of the thick door; the Stormtroopers were firing upon the small group of Mandalorians without prejudice while Bo-Katan and Paz fired their blasters in a desperate attempt to break down the door. The four Mandalorians trapped alongside Din were shot down one by one while he unsuccessfully attempted to hold the beskar-clad Stormtroopers back by firing his vambrace’s flamethrower at them.

The Stormtroopers landed on the platform and despite the concentrated stream of fire aimed their way, they advanced on Din without a moment of hesitancy in their actions. A whipcord wrapped itself around the wrist controlling the flamethrower but when he simply burned through it, another Imp fired a whipcord that tightly seized him around the neck. “No!” (Y/N) cried as she pounded on the window and helplessly watched her husband being roughly detained with more whipcords and forced onto his knees through tear-filled eyes; Grogu was wailing somewhere behind her, but all she could focus on was the heart-stopping sight of her brave Mandalorian at the mercy of a dozen heavily-armored enemies and the fact that she was powerless to help him. “Din! Din!”

While several Stormtroopers fought to hold a struggling Din steady and the others aimed their blaster rifles at him, a trooper dressed in pitch-black beskar armor akin to what the Mandalorians wore and a crimson cloak descended onto the platform, clenching their gloved fists tight at their sides; (Y/N), realizing that the trooper’s visor was fixed onto her husband’s thrashing form, doubled her efforts to try and break through the door but was stopped by Bo-Katan when she attempted to shoot out the glass with her blaster. “There’s no use! The metal and glass are too thick!”

“I can’t just stand here and watch them kill him!” (Y/N) shouted, trying and failing to wrench her arm out of the Nite Owl’s grasp. “Din!”

“Disarm him,” The Dark Trooper ordered and with tears streaming down her face, (Y/N) watched a duo of Stormtroopers remove every single weapon hidden among Din’s Mandalorian armor, leaving him defenseless at the feet of the mysterious Dark Trooper. When they were satisfied that he was unarmed, they strode forward and removed their horned helmet in one swift motion, revealing the smirking face of Moff Gideon; he never made it to the New Republic War Tribunal, (Y/N) silently lamented, thinking back on the moment Din had had the Imperial commander at his mercy and regretting that he hadn’t killed him when he had the opportunity. “Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place.” Moff Gideon mockingly bowed his head in Din’s direction before looking up at the Mandalorians trapped behind the blast door. “You were a talented people, but your time has passed. However, as you can see, Mandalore will live on in me; thanks to your planet’s rich resources, I have created the next generation Dark Trooper suit, forged from beskar alloy. And the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it.” He held his arms out and gestured to his armor with a dark grin. “As the daughter of a talented seamstress, I’m sure that you can appreciate the thought behind my new armor’s design, Captain (Y/L/N). Oh, and congratulations on the wedding; I hear that the Lake Country of Naboo is a beautiful venue for wedding ceremonies.”

(Y/N)’s blood boiled in rage but Paz’s large hand on her shoulder stopped her from surging forward, and his modulated voice lowly warned, “Hold fast, Captain.”

“You see, every society has something to offer: the cloners, the Jedi, the Naboo, and even the Mandalorians. By aggregating the best of each, I will create an army that will bring order to the galaxy.” The corners of Moff Gideon’s lips curved into a twisted smile as he continued. “Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise? Activate the interceptors and bombers!”

“No!” Bo-Katan cried and the Mandalorians frantically searched for a way out but throughout the hangar, alarms blared and Stormtroopers boarded their ships to carry out the Imperial commander’s orders.

Their panic only seemed to encourage Moff Gideon, who chuckled and shrugged his armored shoulders. “In but a few moments, the Purge of Mandalore will be complete.” He looked over at the two Stormtroopers detaining Din. “Take him to the debriefing room.”

“No, no!” (Y/N) screamed, desperately pounding her fist against the glass as the two Stormtroopers hauled Din to his feet and began dragging him away. “Din!” Her husband struggled against his captors’ tight grips, but he managed to throw her one final look before they wrenched him out of sight.

Bo-Katan’s modulated voice was laced with venom as she addressed her old enemy. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

Turning around to face her, Moff Gideon’s villainous smile only widened at her threat. “Bo-Katan. We have to stop meeting like this!”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? I believe this is the part where you return the Darksaber to its rightful owner.” Slowly, Bo-Katan unclipped the weapon from her utility belt and held it up for the Imperial commander to see. “Now, surrender the Darksaber, and tell these people that this planet is mine.”

Bo-Katan glanced over at (Y/N), who clenched her jaw tight and gave her a near-imperceptible head-shake, and then at Paz, who swung his blaster cannon around and aimed at the blast doors before them. “This is the Way.”

Chaos erupted as the Mandalorians opened fire on the door and together, (Y/N) and Bo-Katan skidded across the room to the sealed doors at the opposite end; the Nite Owl activated the Darksaber and thrust the illuminated blade into the center of the doors, and (Y/N) clamped her hands around hers to help her cut a circular shape into the thick metal. Behind them, the blast door finally slid open and red blaster bolts whizzed through the air, nearly hitting both women as they worked together to carve out an escape route. Bo-Katan pulled the glowing Darksaber out of the doors and (Y/N) kicked the circle of cut metal out to reveal a human-sized hole. “Move out!” Heeding their leader’s order, the Mandalorians started their retreat through the still-sizzling hole in the doors while the warriors closest to the Stormtroopers covered their brethren by laying down heavy blaster fire. “Move out!”

“Fall back! I’ll cover the rear!” Paz called out over the deafening noise of his blaster cannon.

“Go, go, go!” (Y/N) helped Mandalorian after Mandalorian step through the escape route they’d created and after helping Koska, she all but shoved Grogu’s IG-12 suit through next. “Go, I’ll be there in a sec!” She looked up at Bo-Katan standing across from her, realizing that there were only three of them left. “That’s everyone, Bo, let’s go!”

Bo-Katan turned to where Paz had stationed himself to defend them and called out, “We’re clear, fall back!”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed when the larger Mandalorian made no move to follow them and continued to fire his blaster cannon at the nearly-invincible Stormtroopers. “Come on, Paz, we’re not leaving you behind!”

Instead of answering, Paz slammed his hand against the nearest control panel and sealed the blast door, leaving him alone to battle a countless number of Stormtroopers on the hangar platform. “Go! There are too many!”

“No!”

Paz glanced over his shoulder at them through the glass of the blast door, and (Y/N) sensed the respect in his pointed gaze as he gave them a firm nod. “This is the Way.”

They watched in stunned disbelief as the Mandalorian fearlessly laid down blaster fire against an enemy that easily outnumbered and outgunned him, all so that his brothers and sisters-in-arms could escape and save their fleet from Moff Gideon and his ruthless Imperial forces. A moment later, Bo-Katan’s visor turned to her and when she nodded her helmeted head, (Y/N) climbed through the hole in the doors and waited for Bo-Katan before running alongside her down the hallway to where the smooth floor transitioned to the uneven dirt of the tunnels.

“Grogu!” (Y/N) quickened her pace when she saw the child’s IG-12 suit positioned by the mouth of the tunnel and skidded to a stop before him. “Are you all right, little guy?” She scanned his tiny body for any injuries and breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she found none; his large eyes shone with unshed tears and the grief written across his wrinkled features broke her heart. “I know, Grogu, but your dad’s gonna be okay. You wanna know how I know that?” He let out a cautious coo and (Y/N) mustered up a small smile for his benefit. “Because we’re gonna rescue him. Together.” She spared Bo-Katan a brief look and nodded towards the tunnel. “The Mandalorians need you, Bo, and Din needs us. We’ll see you on the other side of this mess.”

Rather than arguing or trying to reason with her as she’d done with Paz, Bo-Katan bowed her head in respect. “This is the Way.”

The Nite Owl turned and sprinted down the tunnels after the retreating Mandalorians and (Y/N) tightened her grip on her blaster’s hilt as she met Grogu’s determined eyes. “Are you ready for this?”

“Yes.”

While the horrific memory of Din being overpowered and dragged away from them played on a loop in her mind, a vengeful feeling took hold inside (Y/N) and only burned brighter when she squared her shoulders in preparation for the brutal fight ahead and stared down the Imperial hallway before them. “You’re right, little guy: This is the Way.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Two
The Homecoming

“Din! Din, behind you!”

“I can’t just stand here and watch them kill him! Din!”

“No, no! Din!”

(Y/N)’s terrified screams, Grogu’s wails and the incessant pounding of the captain’s fist on the blast door’s fortified glass echoed throughout Din’s mind as the two Stormtroopers dragged his limp body down an endless hallway to the Imperial base’s debriefing room. He blinked hard to clear his head, making sure to keep his limbs as loose as possible for the benefit of fooling his captors, and he forced himself not to imagine what Moff Gideon and his forces had in store for his family; although his wrists and ankles were tightly bound with whipcords, Din was mustering all of his strength to break free and overpower both beskar-clad Stormtroopers single-handedly and without even one of his weapons. You’ve gotten through tougher scrapes than this, he told himself as he anxiously wet his dry lips and prepared himself for his ambitious next move, now do it again for (Y/N) and Grogu.

Seizing his opportunity, Din lurched towards the nearest wall and pushed off its surface with his bound feet; his sudden action sent the Stormtroopers stumbling backwards and after head-butting one of them, he flipped the other over his shoulder and snatched the vibroblade fastened to his utility belt, slicing through the whipcords securing his ankles and drawing his bound hands back to stab the fallen Stormtrooper. The second Stormtrooper shot the vibroblade from his grasp before he could move and continued firing, forcing Din to somersault across the hallway and kick the blaster from his hands; he sprang to his feet and roughly slammed the second Stormtrooper into the wall, but was forced to raise his arms to block the blaster bolts that the first Stormtrooper fired at him and then the stream of fire from the second Stormtrooper’s flamethrower. Crouching low to the ground, Din rolled across the hallway and knocked the second Stormtrooper down and pointed his flamethrower at the panicked first Stormtrooper before slamming his fist into his helmeted head; he charged at the first Stormtrooper and wrestled the blaster from his grasp, quickly maneuvering him onto his knees and snapping his neck with one quick motion.

A whipcord wrapped itself around Din’s neck and cut off his air supply, and he was yanked backwards onto the ground at the second Stormtrooper’s feet. He grasped at the whipcord and struggled to breathe as the Stormtrooper tightened the weapon around his neck and despite his best efforts, dark spots began to appear in his vision. The Stormtrooper, taking advantage of his weakening state, grabbed his discarded blaster and pressed the muzzle against his helmet, and Din could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness.

“No.” Eyes flying open at the sound of the familiar vocabulator, Din looked over to see IG-12’s hand grasping the blaster’s muzzle; the weapon fired, the red blaster bolt ricocheting off of his beskar helmet, and an enraged Grogu crushed it in his suit’s metal hand. “No. No. No. No.”

(Y/N) appeared on the Stormtrooper’s other side and with a strong kick to the abdomen, the Stormtrooper was sent flying down the hallway and his unconscious body lay sprawled on the ground. Din rolled himself over and just as he took a deep gulp of fresh air, IG-12’s bacta sprayer administered the medicine over his upper body and made it once again difficult for him to breathe. “I’m okay…” He hoarsely reassured the concerned child and weakly waved his bound hands around to clear the air. “I’m okay.”

“Din!” His wife’s panicked face came into view as she hurriedly knelt beside him and helped him to his knees. “Grogu, can you cut him loose?”

“Yes.” Grogu piloted IG-12’s hand to slice through the whipcord, and he let out a triumphant coo when the bindings loosened.

(Y/N) spared the child a brief smile over her shoulder as she pulled the whipcords off of Din’s wrists and neck. “Thanks, little guy.” When the captain turned back around to face Din, her (Y/E/C) eyes were filled with unshed tears as she stared into the visor of his helmet. “When they took you away, sweetheart, I thought…I-I thought that you…Maker, I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.”

“Alor’ad…” Din rested one of his gloved hands on her cheek and guided one of hers to the sliver of skin between his helmet and cowl with the other, allowing her fingertips to feel the warm skin of his jaw as his thumb softly wiped one of her tears away. “I’m okay, ner cyar’ika alor’ad. Can you feel my heartbeat? I’m right here. I’m alive because of you and Grogu, and I swear on all the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

Nodding, (Y/N) smiled through her tears and rested her forehead against his in a Keldabe Kiss, and Din took the opportunity to savor the brief but intimate moment of calm before reluctantly returning to the reality of their situation when his wife quietly spoke. “He can’t keep winning, Din. Your people have been through too much at the hands of Moff Gideon and the Empire…” She pulled away to look into his visor, and he felt a surge of admiration at the fiery determination in her reddened eyes. “And I for one am sick and tired of that son of a mud-scuffer targeting my family.”

Din, understanding the meaning behind his wife’s firm statement, gave her one last Keldabe Kiss and turned to look at Grogu; the child was seated inside the IG-12 suit and watching them both with widened eyes, and the corner of Din’s mouth lifted upwards into a proud smile as he recalled how he’d crushed the Stormtrooper’s blaster without a moment of hesitancy. “Thank you for your help. Grogu, I’m going to need you to be brave for us, okay?” The child softly cooed and tilted his wrinkled head to the side as he continued. “We can’t keep running; if we don’t take out Moff Gideon, this will never end. You with us?”

Grogu gave them both a firm nod and after affectionately rubbing one of his large ears between her fingers, (Y/N) helped Din onto his feet and brought a hand up to her commlink. “Bo-Katan, come in.”

“Received. Where are you?”

“We’re safe,” (Y/N) reassured the Nite Owl while adjusting Din’s cowl for him. “Din’s escaped and we’ve got the little guy with us.”

“We’re going after Moff Gideon,” Din added. “Do you have a location?”

“No. We are under attack; I have to get the troops to safety.”

Din buried his disappointment and nodded. “Understood.”

“Stay safe, you three.”

“You too, Bo.” Dropping her hand from her comm, (Y/N) turned to Din with an expectant look on her face. “Since you’re our clan’s resident bounty hunter, I take it you’ll be leading the way to Moff Gideon?”

Beneath his helmet, Din pursed his lips to keep from chuckling as he was reminded of their playful banter regarding bounty hunters versus smugglers. “Naturally. And as our resident smuggler, you’re gonna help us evade as many Stormtroopers as possible until we can get our hands on some weapons.”

(Y/N) grinned as she playfully elbowed IG-12’s arm. “You sure are getting a well-rounded education from having the two of us as your guardians, huh, little guy?” Grogu babbled in agreement and the captain looked over at Din with a self-assured gleam illuminating her beautiful face. “Now, let’s take back Mandalore once and for all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Din hadn’t hunted down a bounty in some time, but navigating the halls of the Imperial base and evading pairs of Stormtroopers at every turn was beginning to help him tap into his dormant bounty hunting talents. Thanks to their adventures at the hidden Imperial laboratory on Nevarro and the light cruiser they’d infiltrated to rescue Grogu, he had an idea of the base’s overall layout and was able to track the Imperial commander’s path while (Y/N) successfully ensured that the three of them remained unseen, taking advantage of the hallways’ niches and blind spots that the Stormtrooper’s bulky helmets caused.

“We’re getting close to something important,” (Y/N) murmured as they waited for two armed Stormtroopers to pass by their hiding spot. “Why else would there be so many Imps around here?”

“I agree, which is why we should call in our back-up now.” Seeing that the Stormtroopers were gone, the three of them slowly edged around the hallway’s corner and continued forward while Din spoke into his helmet’s commlink. “R5. Come in, R5. We need you, buddy.” He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the astromech’s familiar chirps and whistles, thankful that the droid had listened to their instructions earlier that day and stayed on the planet’s surface when the Armorer transported the injured Mandalorians up to the fleet in the Gauntlet. “You’re gonna have to scomp into the base and get us the location of Moff Gideon’s command center.”

The astromech’s panicked beeps were illegible to Din, but (Y/N) nodded sympathetically and replied, “I’m sorry, Din doesn’t speak Binary. We’re counting on you, R5, and we know that a Rebel hero like you can get the job done.” Din tilted his head at the captain’s flattery and she shrugged, reaching up to cover her commlink before whispering, “He’s got very fragile nerves, but he’s making his way down into the base as we speak.”

They ushered Grogu around another corner and pressed themselves against the wall to avoid a pair of Stormtroopers jogging by. “We can’t show up at that command center unarmed, alor’ad; you’re sure you don’t have any weapons on you?”

“I lost my blaster when we ran into a Stormtrooper right before finding you, and the only other thing I’ve got is a sewing needle.”

Din heaved a sigh and glanced over his shoulder at the jetpack he’d stolen off of one of the dead Stormtroopers, thankful for the useful device but cursing the Empire for failing to commission more weaponry to their personnel. “We’ll have to make do until a lone Stormtrooper passes our way.” They pushed themselves off the wall and quietly made their way down the hall, and he pursed his lips in impatience. “R5, how are those schematics coming?”

Several moments later, a series of beeps came through the comms and an image projected itself out of Din’s vambrace, making (Y/N) beam and Grogu coo excitedly. “We’ve got it. Great job, R5!”

“Thanks, buddy, you’ve done good.” When his wife arched a brow at his praise, he shrugged indifferently. “He’s not so bad, I guess…for a droid.” He raised his arm and together, they studied the detailed hologram. “That’s the command center; the communication log says that’s where he operates from.”

“Then that’s where we’re going.” (Y/N) gave Grogu an encouraging smile. “Ready?”

The child nodded and patted one of the buttons on his vocabulators. “Yes.”

Din patted the top of his wrinkled head as he passed him by and led them down another hallway. “Stay close, kid. Let’s go.”

With the Imperial base’s schematics to guide them, the three of them continued down the hallways and tunnels until they came upon a large doorway that glowed with vibrant red lights. Din’s hand guided (Y/N) and Grogu flush against the wall as he briefly peeked around the corner, furrowing his brow at the sight of a grand hall divided by several barrier shields guarded by two Stormtroopers each; eight armed Stormtroopers dressed in beskar won’t be easy to defeat, he thought to himself as his mind raced to think up a battle plan, but we’ll just have to make it work.

“The command center is down there,” Din softly explained when he pulled away from the corner to meet (Y/N) and Grogu’s concerned gazes. “We don’t have any weapons, so this might get messy; the barrier shields are dividing the Stormtroopers into four groups of two. I’ll go in and take each pair out while you stay here with Grogu and direct R5 to open the next barrier when I give you the signal.” The captain opened her mouth to argue, but Din was faster. “Alor’ad, you’re a fearsome warrior and the best pilot I know, but even you have to admit that your hand-to-hand combat skills aren’t developed enough to take on over a dozen beskar-clad enemies just yet.”

A miffed (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest but gave him a reluctant nod. “Fine, but I’m only agreeing with you because I speak Binary…and because you said I’m the best pilot you know.”

Half amused and half exasperated, Din lifted the edge of his helmet up to press a soothing kiss onto his wife’s furrowed brow. “Ner atin alor’ad. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

“You’d better be.” (Y/N) stole a quick kiss before he lowered his helmet into place and brought her hand up to her comm. “R5, there’s some barrier shields. We’re gonna need you to deactivate them one at a time on my command, okay?” The astromech beeped out his reply and when Din gave her a firm nod, she continued. “Deactivate the first shield.”

Din charged around the corner the moment he heard the barrier shield fizzle out, punching the first Stormtrooper hard in the front of his helmet and kicking the legs out from under the second; he snatched the fallen Stormtrooper’s vibroblade and turned in time to grab the first Stormtrooper’s blaster wrist, stabbing him several times in the stomach and using his dying body to block the second Stormtrooper’s blaster fire. He tossed the beskar-clad corpse aside and threw the vibroblade at the second Stormtrooper, hitting him square in the exposed section of his neck, but he narrowly missed grabbing the blaster as his lifeless body toppled into the endless chasm beside the walkway. Cursing under his breath, Din grabbed the vibroblade tucked into the first Stormtrooper’s boot and turned to face the next barrier shield; the Stormtroopers on the other side were panicking and slamming their hands on the control panels nearby, but it appeared that the surprisingly tenacious astromech jammed all their signals. When they saw that Din was staring, the two nearest Stormtroopers quickly armed themselves with electro batons and shields.

“R5, next shield!” (Y/N) called into her comm.

The second barrier shield fizzled out and Din sprinted forward, slicing the first Stormtrooper’s arm and carving a deep cut into the second’s thigh; the second Stormtrooper slammed his electro baton into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards into the first Stormtrooper’s electro baton. Gritting his teeth, Din charged at the second Stormtrooper and shoved him into the third barrier shield with a well-placed hit with his knee, then turned in time to catch the first Stormtrooper’s wrist and slam him against the floor. He scooped up his electro baton and caught the swing that the second Stormtrooper aimed at his head before knocking his legs out from under him and kicking the first Stormtrooper roughly in the head as he struggled to stand, knocking the screaming Imp into the chasm and reaching to grab his discarded shield.

An anxious-sounding (Y/N) yelled behind him, “R5, next shield!”

The third barrier shield fizzled out and with his electro baton and shield raised, Din launched himself at the next two Stormtroopers; he rammed his shield into the first Imp, sending him flying backwards into the fourth barrier shield, and deflected blaster fire from the second before electrifying his leg and sending him crashing to the ground. He electrocuted the first Stormtrooper and knocked him unconscious, tossing his electro baton aside and grabbing the blaster holstered at the Stormtrooper’s waist; when the second Stormtrooper staggered to his feet and began firing his own blaster, Din was forced to duck behind his shield and lay down blaster fire as the hallway filled with smoke.

“(Y/N), have R5 deactivate the next shield!” He called out over the deafening noise.

“R5, next shield!” When nothing happened and no beeps could be heard on the other side of their commlinks, (Y/N) anxiously repeated herself. “R5, next shield!” Din and the second Stormtrooper continued firing at one another, and Din was beginning to worry that he might overheat his weapon if the astromech didn’t act soon. “Din, R5 isn’t answering!”

“R5!” Din barked into his comm. “R5, next shield!” With a lucky final shot from his newly-jammed blaster, the second Stormtrooper dropped to the floor and Din sprinted past his dead body as the fourth barrier shield fizzled out, sliding on his knees and bowling over the first Stormtrooper with ease; he slid past the second Stormtrooper and scooped up his partner’s discarded blaster before jumping to his feet and shooting both Imps dead. Din’s chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath and when he looked out at the smoke-filled hallway littered with the corpses of several Stormtroopers, he nodded to himself and called out into his comm, “R5, good job, buddy…”

At the opposite end of the hall, (Y/N) and Grogu cautiously emerged from around the corner and the captain let out an impressed whistle. “Only you could make hand-to-hand combat look like an art form, sweetheart.” She stepped over the sprawled bodies as she led Grogu’s IG-12 suit down the walkway to where Din stood, pausing a moment to scoop up one of the last Stormtrooper’s blasters and holding it at the ready as she spoke into her comm. “You did a wonderful job, R5. Can you open the next door?”

The doors slowly swung open and both Din and (Y/N) cautiously stepped into the chamber, their blasters raised and their eyes darting around in search of any hidden threats. When they found none, they continued forward and examined the rows of tanks that lined each side of the chamber; Din frowned when he made out the humanoid forms floating in the murky liquid and the longer he looked at them, the more he began to suspect what exactly they were. “Wait here,” Din spoke to (Y/N) and Grogu before walking down to the end of the chamber and examining the control console; he fiddled with the knobs and watched the detailed Aurebesh notes flash by, and his eyes widened beneath his helmet. “Dank farrik, they’re clones…”

From her spot in the middle of the chamber, (Y/N) stifled a gasp and tried her best to calm an understandably fearful Grogu. “It’s okay, little guy, that’s not Gideon. These are his clones.”

Grogu squealed in terror and when Din’s head whipped around, he saw that several of the clones had opened their eyes. One imploring look from (Y/N) had Din switching on the tanks’ self-destruction function; he knew in his heart that for the sake of his family and the galaxy, Moff Gideon’s clones could never be allowed to see the light of day. “Let’s go!”

The lights switched off and as (Y/N) and Grogu ran to Din, the tanks rumbled and began to burst open; the three of them fled the flooding chamber while emergency alarms blared, not stopping until they came upon a closed set of doors. As they halted their movements, the doors slowly slid open and after exchanging a wary look, Din and (Y/N) led the way into the cavernous command center with their blasters raised. A blue-hued hologram of the Imperial base’s schematics was on display in the center of the room but before they could examine it, the doors behind them slid shut on their own accord.

“Oh, that’s not good.” (Y/N) hurried to the closed doors and pressed every button on its control panel, but nothing happened. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

The hologram flickered twice before vanishing and revealing the double doors sliding open at the opposite end of the chamber; Din ducked into a niche while (Y/N) and Grogu hid behind the niche directly across from his just as a chillingly familiar voice rang out through the chamber. “My clones were finally going to be perfect! The best parts of me, but improved by adding the one thing I never had: the Force.” Moff Gideon’s voice shook with rage as he spoke, and Din’s grip tightened around the hilt of his blaster in anticipation, thanking the Maker that he’d destroyed the clones when he had the opportunity. “I was isolating the potential to wield the Force, and incorporating it into an unstoppable army.” Across the chamber, (Y/N)’s jaw tightened but he could see a hint of fear in his wife’s gaze. “And you smothered them before they could draw their first breath.”

In perfect synchronization, Din and (Y/N) leapt out of their hiding spots and fired their blasters at the beskar-clad Imperial commander. Moff Gideon merely smiled and blocked the blaster bolts with his vambrace before firing a missile at them, forcing Din to hastily shove (Y/N) against the wall to avoid the projectile; it flew across the command center and exploded in a massive fireball against the locked doors as Din shielded the captain’s body from the blast. They both looked back to the Imperial commander, who had donned his horned beskar helmet, and with one brief glance, they pushed off the wall and charged towards him with their blasters blazing. Din activated the jetpack he’d stolen off a dead Stormtrooper and launched himself through the air, slamming into Moff Gideon and sending him skidding back several feet into the base’s hangar. Before Din could react, he was flipped over the Imperial commander’s head and sent hurtling into a stack of cargo crates, knocking him senseless for a few moments and causing him to groan in pain.

Moff Gideon kicked his discarded blaster away as he strode towards Din, but (Y/N) appearing behind him and firing her blaster at point-blank range was enough to momentarily draw his attention away from Din, giving him several precious moments to stagger to his feet and watch as the Imperial commander kicked (Y/N) halfway across the platform. Din’s vision went red and he threw a punch at Moff Gideon’s helmeted head, but he effortlessly caught his fist in one hand and used the other to strike him over and over; his hand closed around Din’s throat and he roughly threw him against the ground, forcing Din to scramble out of the away just as his fist slammed into the spot where he’d landed and cracked the stone floor.

Din’s eyes widened beneath his helmet as three figures dressed in ornate red armor and carrying electro-bisentos emerged from between stacks of cargo crates; knowing that he was without a single weapon and already weak from Moff Gideon’s attack, he squared his shoulders and started forward to confront the trio of warriors. The warrior on his right swung his electro-bisentos first and Din expertly dodged it, ducking beneath the other two weapons and blocking a strike with his vambrace before kicking one of the warriors in the head. He was taken by surprise when one of the electro-bisentos collided with his shoulder, sending a stinging pain coursing throughout his entire body and giving one of the warriors the opportunity to slam their weapon into his helmet, a hit that knocked him flat onto his stomach; he writhed in agony when the tip of an electro-bisentos pierced into the unarmored section of his shoulder and struggled to lift himself up off the ground, but he was quickly surrounded by the red-armored warriors and a boot pressed down on his back to hold him in place.

“No. No. No.”

Din forced himself to crane his neck and sucked in a fearful gasp when he saw (Y/N) and Grogu standing side-by-side in front of the command center’s doorway, the captain’s blaster drawn and already firing at the three red-armored warriors as the child smashed his clawed hand against IG-12’s vocabulators. To Din’s utter horror, the three warriors abandoned him on the ground and charged at them with their electro-bisentos raised for battle, forcing (Y/N) and Grogu to retreat back into the command center where they had no chance of escape.

“No!” Din cried, scrambling to his feet and sprinting as fast as he could after them; he was knocked down by a missile fired from Moff Gideon’s vambrace and when he picked himself up, he was met with the terrifying sight of the command center’s doors sliding shut and trapping his family with the three highly-skilled warriors.

Din ran to the door’s control panel, but a whipcord wrapped itself around his neck and he was instantly thrown onto the ground by his own momentum; he yanked on the whipcord in a desperate attempt to free himself, but Moff Gideon merely tugged him back across the platform and kicked him hard in the torso. Although his vision was blurred by a lack of oxygen and stinging tears, Din spotted the vibroblade tucked into his boot and quickly snatched it from him, slicing through the whipcord just as a concentrated stream of fire washed over him. Tightening his grip on his new weapon and gritting his teeth, Din jumped to his feet and launched himself at the Imperial commander; he slashed and parried with all the strength he possessed and while they exchanged blows, he was unwittingly reminded of their vicious duel on the light cruiser. Just as he’d done once before, he had to defeat Moff Gideon and protect his family from the Empire’s lingering danger, but unlike the last time, he vowed to himself that their second duel would end with the Imperial commander dead at his feet.

On my name and the names of the Ancestors, Moff Gideon will not leave this planet alive, Din swore to himself as he kicked his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to his knees. He swung his balled fist at Moff Gideon’s helmet-covered face, but it was caught by his quick hand; Din’s knees started to buckle while his fingers were crushed in the Imperial commander’s iron grip, and the hard impact of his knee hitting his beskar-covered face sent a searing pain to his nose. One of Moff Gideon’s hands wrapped around his neck and lifted him into the air, high enough so that the tips of his boots were barely brushing against the ground, then flung him down onto the platform behind him.

The wind was knocked out of Din’s lungs and his body ached from being tossed around, but he forced himself to scoot back as Moff Gideon slowly strode towards him, trying in vain to come up with a plan to defeat the powerful Imperial commander and save his family before it was too late. His salvation came in the form of a blurred figure wearing blue and white beskar armor, who slammed directly into Moff Gideon and sent him sprawling onto the hangar’s platform before turning to face Din. “I’ve got this,” Bo-Katan reassured him as she gestured towards the sealed command center. “Go save your kid.”

With a hasty nod of thanks, Din scrambled to his feet and hurried across the platform to the command center’s control panel, only slowing down to scoop up two discarded blasters; it was only then that he finally took note of the intense sky battle raging on high above between the Mandalorians and the beskar-clad Stormtroopers, and a quick glance over his shoulder showed him the ferocious duel that Bo-Katan and Moff Gideon were engaged in. He skidded to a halt in front of the command center doors and slammed his foot against the control panel’s buttons, impatiently waiting for the doors to slide open wide enough for him to slip through and bursting into the command center with his blasters raised. It only took Din a split-second to evaluate the situation – a dazed-looking (Y/N) was propped up against the wall with a broken blaster laying beside her and Grogu was pinned down beneath several pieces of scrap metal in front of her as two red-armored warriors advanced and the third lay dead on the floor beside the destroyed remains of IG-12 – and with that, he fired off two shots that hit each warrior in the back and charged into battle.

The first warrior hadn’t yet recovered from Din’s surprise attack when the second withdrew an electro-chain whip and wrapped it around his left wrist, forcing him to drop his blaster as a searing pain coursed through his body. Din grimaced beneath his helmet and shot the second warrior in the shin but before he could wrench his wrist free, the first warrior swung his electro-bisentos and Din blocked it with his vambrace; the force of the blow knocked his other blaster from his grasp and the first warrior raised his weapon for another attack, but was thrown back by an invisible shove as Grogu let out an enraged cry.

“Thanks, kid!” Din wrapped his hand around the electro-chain fastened around his wrist and yanked the second warrior onto the ground.

“Din!” Whirling around, he saw that (Y/N) had dragged herself across the command center to the third warrior’s dead body and retrieved his vibroblade. “Catch!”

The captain tossed the weapon across the room and Din lunged to catch it, ducking out of the way of the first warrior’s attack and elbowing him hard in the face; before he could use the vibroblade, the second warrior’s electro-chain slammed into his back and he fell onto the ground beside Grogu, who’d crawled his way out from beneath the scrap metal. The first warrior’s electro-bisentos swung down but just before it could make contact with Din’s neck, its momentum was halted when the child raised his clawed hand and used the Force to protect Din; Din kicked the legs out from under the first warrior and rolled onto his feet, scooping up one of his blasters and shooting the first warrior several times and planting a hard kick onto the second warrior’s chest as he lunged towards (Y/N). The first warrior staggered towards him, but Din easily knocked the electro-bisentos from his grasp and drove his vibroblade into the narrow gap between his helmet and chestplate, kicking his dead body away before shooting the second warrior until he lay dead at his feet.

Din’s chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath and once he was sure that all three red-armored warriors were dead, he ripped off his helmet and hurried to where (Y/N) was sprawled on the ground. “Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, are you all right?!” He discarded his helmet and helped his wife sit up, his gloved hands supporting her body as his eyes frantically searched her for any injuries.

“I-I’m okay, sweetheart.” (Y/N) comforted him with a smile, despite the rapidly-swelling bruise that spanned her cheekbone and the drying blood that trickled down the side of her face. “I hit my head when that son of a mud-scuffer slammed me into the wall, but I definitely made sure to repay the favor.”

Din chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, I can see that.” He littered her forehead and uninjured cheek with kisses as his eyes welled with tears. “I’ve never been more afraid than when those doors sealed you two in here with those warriors, alor’ad. I thought I lost you.”

His wife’s (Y/E/C) eyes shone with unshed tears and she nodded in understanding. “I know the feeling all too well.” Her hand reached up to brush some wayward strands of hair away from his forehead and she leaned in to capture his lips in a brief but meaningful kiss that he was quick to return; after several moments, they pulled away from one another and (Y/N) beamed down at Grogu as he crawled into her lap and nuzzled his face against her stomach. “You know, this little guy saved my ass a couple of times; after I took down the warrior who attacked me, he used the Force to keep the other two away from me.” She ducked her head to give the child’s wrinkled head a kiss. “Grogu was very, very brave.”

Din’s heart swelled with pride as he patted Grogu’s head and smiled when he cooed. “You did good, kid.” Just as the captain opened her mouth to reply, a panicked look overtook her earlier happiness and Din’s brow furrowed in confusion as she held a hand up to her commlink. “What is it, alor’ad?”

“That was Axe; he’s crashing the light cruiser into the Imperial base, and we only have minutes to evacuate.”

A sense of understanding passed between them, and Din found himself slipping his helmet back on and helping his wife stand before reaching down and grabbing both discarded blasters; he offered her one of the blasters and gave her a firm nod. “For Mandalore.”

The corner of (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards as she replied, “May the Force be with us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Clan Mudhorn emerged from the command center and stepped out onto the hangar’s platform, Din walked in front of his family and used his beskar-clad body as a shield. Several feet away stood Moff Gideon, who was striding towards a crouched and helmetless Bo-Katan with purpose while he brandished his electrostaff and spoke. “The Darksaber is gone.” The Imperial commander’s black and crimson cape brushed against the shattered remains of the blade’s hilt as he stepped past it, and Din’s eyes widened in surprise beneath his helmet. “You’ve lost everything. Mandalorians are weak once they lose their trinkets.”

The Nite Owl’s eyes landed on Clan Mudhorn standing behind Moff Gideon, and her exhausted face morphed into a vengeful smile as she shook her head. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Together, Din and (Y/N) fired their blasters at Moff Gideon and advanced forward as he was forced towards the platform’s edge; Bo-Katan rolled out of the way while the Imperial commander dropped his electrostaff and began returning blaster fire from his suit’s vambrace, and Din used his free arm to ensure that the captain’s body was shielded from the blaster bolts whizzing past. The four of them were suddenly thrown onto the floor and as sparks rained down, Din looked up to see the burning remains of the Imperial light cruiser crashing into the base’s opening high above them.

A startled cry caused Din’s heart to leap into his throat and when his head whipped around, he saw (Y/N) drop to the ground and the sight of the clutching her leg caused him to surge towards her. “Alor’ad!”

He wrapped his body around hers as Moff Gideon’s blaster bolts ricocheted off his armor and out of nowhere, Bo-Katan slid in between them and used her glowing shield gauntlet to protect them. More and more smoldering debris fell onto the platform and forced Din to pull (Y/N) onto her feet, supporting her with one arm as he fired his blaster at Moff Gideon with the other; the Nite Owl let out a guttural battle cry and charged towards the Imperial commander as she fired her blaster, while Grogu waved his clawed hand and used the Force to shove Moff Gideon back onto the plaform. (Y/N) launched herself into the line of blaster fire and expertly shot the electrostaff into the crevice below the platform and when Moff Gideon aimed his blaster at his family, Din dropped to his knees and slid in front of them as he fired his blaster without prejudice.

As a towering ball of fire descended onto the platform, Bo-Katan hurried to their side and thrust her shield gauntlet above their heads; Din pulled (Y/N) and Grogu close to protect them from the falling sparks, all while watching a screaming Moff Gideon be consumed by the blazing inferno with a sense of dark satisfaction. Burying his beskar-covered face in his wife’s neck, Din waited for the inevitable rush of heat and the brunt impact of debris from the destruction of the Imperial base…but none came.

“Din…” He opened his eyes at (Y/N)’s awed whisper and pulled back to see that they were surrounded on all sides by an invisible shield, the wondrous expression on the captain’s face illuminated by the flames that harmlessly swirled around them. “Look.”

Din’s eyes followed hers and widened when he saw Grogu standing in front of all three of them, his tiny arms raised as he manipulated the Force with the ease of a true Jedi padawan. It seemed as though it were only yesterday when he’d used his special abilities to save Din, Greef, Cara and IG-11 from Moff Gideon’s forces back on Nevarro, and the comparison nearly made Din choke up with pride for his foundling. Good job, kid, he thought to himself on the off-chance that the child could understand his silent message through the Force, you really are one of a kind, ner kotep ad’ika.

Bo-Katan breathed out a awestruck laugh as she deactivated her shield gauntlet and sat back onto her shins. “You two’ve got one hell of a foundling.”

“We sure do-” (Y/N)’s satisfied smile morphed into a grimace and she looked down at the blaster wound on her shin. “Maker, everything they say about getting shot directly on a bone is true.”

Din winced in sympathy, knowing all too well how painful that sort of blaster wound could be, and he rubbed a soothing gloved hand across her back to distract her from the discomfort. “Everything’s gonna be all right, alor’ad; we’ll get you to one of the fleet’s medics and they’ll patch you up in no time.”

When the fire began to die down, Grogu lowered his arms and the protective shield melted away as they cautiously got to their feet; the exhausted child plopped down onto the ground and with a silent chuckle, Din scooped him up and held him in the crook of his elbow while Bo-Katan supported (Y/N). The smouldering remains of the secret Imperial base and the noticeable absence of Moff Gideon filled Din with a sense of satisfaction, and he knew in his heart that they’d just won a final victory over the Empire; Mandalore once again belonged to the Mandalorians, both factions disregarded centuries of bad blood and finally came together as one, and Clan Mudhorn was free to live a peaceful life away from the looming threat of Moff Gideon. And as he stood alongside his fearless wife and loyal friend and held his precious foundling close to his chest, Din finally allowed himself to breathe.

This is the Way.

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Three
The Adoption

The week after the Mandalorians’ defeat of Moff Gideon and the reclamation of their homeworld from the Empire was marked by a ceremony at the bank of the Living Waters; the Mandalorians – the covert, the former mercenaries and the survivors of the Siege – gathered to allow the Armorer to baptize them in the sacred water and to speak the Mandalorian Creed as a way of reaffirming their vows. Due to (Y/N)’s partially-healed leg wound, Clan Mudhorn was the last to arrive at the Living Waters, much to her embarrassment despite Din’s kind and reasonable assurances.

“You were wounded in battle against one of our people’s greatest enemies, alor’ad,” Din reminded her as he held her steady with an arm looped around her waist and helped her limp down the uneven tunnel to the Living Waters. “I’m sure that the others won’t mind us being a little late.”

“Well, my mother used to say ‘early is on-time, and on-time is late;’ the Naboo pride themselves on their punctuality, after all.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grogu – who was nestled comfortably in the crook of Din’s left elbow – lift one of his clawed hands and aim it towards her bandaged leg, and she gave him a pointed look. “No, Grogu. It’s sweet that you wanna use your Force-healing on me but trust me, I’ve dealt with worse blaster wounds than this one; besides, you still need to regain your strength after what you did last week.”

Grogu cooed in reluctant agreement and lowered his hand while the side of Din’s helmet gently tapped against the side of her head. The sound of drums filled the air as the clan of three stepped into the cavernous chamber that housed the Living Waters of Mandalore, which was now illuminated by several lanterns and adorned with tribal banners; Mandalorians stood at attention on either side of the chamber, and all were wearing their helmets as a sign of respect. The Armorer stood knee-high in the dark water and held a small stone basin in her gloved hands, turning around to watch Ragnar, the foundling of their fallen ally and friend, kneel on the steps before her. (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy for the child and while they waited by the entrance of the chamber, Din’s hand subtly flexed against her waist; everyone here owes their life to Paz Vizsla, she thought to herself as she recalled the Mandalorian’s noble sacrifice, and everyone will repay that debt by ensuring Ragnar grows up safe and protected.

“I swear on my name and the names of the Ancestors…”

“I swear on my name and the names of the Ancestors…” Ragnar recited.

“That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…”

“That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…”

“And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

“And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

When he finished, he bowed his head and the Armorer poured the basin of water onto his beskar helmet. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” The assembled Mandalorians echoed.

Sharing a reassuring look, (Y/N) and Din waited for Ragnar to join the others before starting forward towards the steps. Bo-Katan, whose helmet was already decorated with droplets of water, gave them a nod of respect when they passed her and (Y/N) flashed her friend a nervous smile. They descended the steps together and her husband made sure she was stable before letting go of her waist and bending down to set Grogu down on the damp steps.

“Grogu is my apprentice. He is no longer a foundling.” Din’s modulated voice was filled with self-assurance as he continued. “Add him to the Song.”

The Armorer shook her head. “He is too young to speak, so he is too young to take the Creed. He must remain a foundling.”

Grogu cooed and lowered his head in disappointment and (Y/N) struggled to resist the overwhelming urge to scoop him up into her arms, but Din was seemingly unperturbed by the Armorer’s words. “If his parent gave permission, couldn’t he then become a Mandalorian apprentice?”

“Yes, but his parents are far from here, if they are even alive.”

In that instant, realization dawned on (Y/N) and her head whipped around to meet the visor of her husband’s helmet; although she couldn’t see his face, she knew the Mandalorian well enough to determine exactly what he was thinking and after a moment, a bright smile spread across her face. “Then we will adopt him as our own,” She replied, her eyes remaining fixed on Din’s covered gaze as she reached over to slip her hand into his.

In her peripheral vision, she watched the Armorer give them both a deep nod. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Din and (Y/N) replied in unison and when she glanced down, Grogu was beaming up at them both.

“Let it be written in Song that Din Djarin and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) are accepting this foundling as their son.” With a hint of pride in her modulated voice, the Armorer looked out at the gathered Mandalorians and addressed the child. “You are now Din Grogu, Mandalorian apprentice.”

“This is the Way.”

Grogu happily nodded and the Armorer turned to face Din. “You must leave Mandalore and take your apprentice on his journeys, just as your teacher did for you.”

Din nodded. “This is the Way.” Bending down, he scooped Grogu up and (Y/N) smiled when his clawed hand rested against the beskar covering Din’s cheek. “Grogu. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad.” When he noticed (Y/N)’s confused expression, he softly explained, “It’s a Mandalorian adoption vow; it means ‘I know your name as my child.’ It’s something…something I should’ve spoken a long, long time ago.”

(Y/N)’s eyes prickled with unshed tears as she smoothed a hand over the child’s wrinkled head and met his gaze. “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad, Grogu.” Beside her, Din released a shuddering breath and she nervously bit her lip. “Did I say that right? Mando’a’s pretty difficult to pronounce-”

“It was perfect, alor’ad.” While the Mandalorians began to file out of the chamber, Din pressed his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss and gently squeezed her hand. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasumm, ner cyar’ika riduur.”

She brushed her lips against the beskar covering his mouth as her free hand cradled the side of his helmet. “And I love you too, my honorable Mandalorian.”

“So, I guess this is it.” They looked over to see Bo-Katan standing at the top of the steps, her helmet resting against her hip as a smile played on her lips. “What’re you guys gonna do now?”

(Y/N) tilted her head to the side and considered the Nite Owl’s question. “We haven’t really decided yet, but I suppose we’ll have plenty of time to figure it out on our way to Adelphi.”

“A lot of rumors are gonna start spreading about what happened here, and it’ll be good for Mandalore if Captain Teva and the New Republic hears the truth before the stories,” Din added before helping (Y/N) ascend the damp steps to where Bo-Katan stood. “Thanks to the leadership of Bo-Katan Kryze, Mandalore once again belongs to the Mandalorians and the galaxy is free of Moff Gideon’s influence once and for all.”

Bo-Katan’s cheeks flushed pink as she scoffed at Din’s words. “Well, don’t sell yourselves too short on my account. All of this? It just wouldn’t be possible without you three landing on Kalevala and showing me that I still had a purpose. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

Taking a step forward, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug and smiled to herself when she immediately returned her embrace. “There’s nothing to repay, Bo. You were meant to lead your people, just as we were meant to help you reclaim Mandalore.”

When (Y/N) pulled away, Din offered the Nite Owl his hand and nodded as she tightly clasped it. “Take care of yourself, Bo. If you need anything, we’re only a holo-call away.”

Grogu cooed and gave Bo-Katan a small wave, and she chuckled as she blinked away her tears. “I’ll miss you too, kid. May the Force be with you.”

With one final smile, Bo-Katan turned and strode out of the chamber after the rest of the Mandalorians, radiating self-assurance with each step she took and looking every bit the leader that Mandalore deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their long week on Mandalore, the sunshine and warm air of Adelphi was a treat and as (Y/N) piloted the N-1 starfighter down onto the New Republic’s landing pad, she admired the waves gently lapping at the sandy beaches and the lush green foliage framing the rocky hills in the distance. It’s not hard to see why the New Republic established an outpost on this planet, she thought to herself as Din helped her descend from the starfighter.

“We’ll be back in a few, R5!” (Y/N) called out to the astromech droid and gave him a small wave before accepting her husband’s gloved hand and gesturing for Grogu to follow them as they walked towards the Quonset hut that housed a lounge bar for the New Republic pilots. “Captain Teva’s X-Wing is here, so that’s good. Do you think he’s expecting us?”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.” Din matched her slower pace and glanced down at the child toddling happily beside them. “The kid’s gonna get a real surprise when we land on Nevarro and don’t immediately leave.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “The little guy’s definitely spent more time in space than on any one planet, but I think he’ll be okay. He’s our son, after all.”

Her husband’s fingers threaded around her own and gave her hand a loving squeeze as the Quonset doors slid open to reveal the lounge bar. New Republic X-Wing pilots were drinking and chatting amongst themselves at the tables, playing table games and changing the music on the jukebox in the back, and Captain Carson Teva was nursing a glass of spotchka as he leaned against the bar and gave them a jaunty smile. “Let me buy you a drink.”

(Y/N) shook her head and allowed Din to help her slide onto one of the nearby barstools. “Thanks, but we’re here on business.”

“We really appreciate what you two did.” Captain Teva watched in amusement as Grogu jumped up onto the bar and began snacking on a bowl of nuts. “You made our jobs a lot easier.”

Din merely shrugged his armored shoulders. “We’ve all been chasing Moff Gideon. You would’ve gotten him eventually; my wife and I just got there first.”

A string of excited babbles drew their attention towards Grogu, who was pointing at the helmets and severed droid heads suspended above the bar, and (Y/N) realized why he was so enthusiastic when she spotted the old IG-11 head resting beside a slashed Stormtrooper helmet. “Your kid sure likes the trophies.”

“It’s not him, kid.” Din turned back to face the officer and explained, “One of them reminds him of someone he knew.” Captain Teva nodded in understanding and after seeing the encouraging smile on (Y/N)’s face, the Mandalorian continued. “We have a business proposition.”

The officer’s brow arched. “Shoot.”

“This youngling is my apprentice.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I’m a bounty hunter by trade; now that he’s with us, I’ll be more selective in my assignments.” One of Din’s hands rested on the small of (Y/N)’s back as he leaned against the bar beside her. “We were offered a tract of land on Nevarro by High Magistrate Karga, and we’ve decided to accept it.”

“Go on.”

“You don’t have the resources to protect the Outer Rim, let alone hunt down Imperial remnants.” (Y/N)’s smile widened when the officer reluctantly nodded in agreement. “And we need work.”

Captain Teva smirked at that. “Let me get this straight: you two want to work for the New Republic?”

“On a case-by-case basis,” Din corrected. “Independent contractors.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’m a seamstress by trade and now that we’re settling down on Nevarro, I was considering taking commissions. That way, I can split my time between my sewing and our assignments.”

“You and I both know this is against regulation, Captain (Y/L/N). It’ll never get approved.”

There was amusement in Din’s modulated voice as he replied, “Which is why you won’t tell them.”

The officer sighed and finished off the rest of his spotchka. “Let me think about it.”

“You already did,” Din chuckled. “It’s a good deal and you know it.”

“Is that so?”

“My husband is the most skilled bounty hunter on this side of the galaxy, and I couldn’t have saved as many civilians as I did during the Rebellion without being one hell of a smuggler.” Leaning back in her seat, (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t bother masking her confident grin with a more modest expression. “In the meantime, all we require is a small advance.”

Din, catching onto what (Y/N) was planning, nodded in agreement and pointed to the severed IG-11 head. “What we want in return is that.”

Captain Teva’s brow furrowed. “A scrap assassin droid head?”

“Mm-hmm, we need it for parts.”

With a small head-shake, the officer slid off his barstool and after a quick word with the bartender, he retrieved the severed IG-11 head for them and they bid their friend goodbye, all three of them comprehending the unspoken arrangement that had just taken place: (Y/N) and Din would selectively accept assignments secretly sent to them by Captain Teva, and their apprehension of rogue Imperial commanders and destruction of any remnants of the Empire would help bring security to the fledgling New Republic. A peaceful life on Nevarro sprinkled with adventure and a little bit of danger, she thought as she cradled the droid’s head against her chest and walked alongside her husband and son towards the starfighter, sounds like a perfect work-life balance to me.

“…So, you really think I’m the most skilled bounty hunter on this side of the galaxy?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and heaved an exasperated sigh even as her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “I do…but that doesn’t mean I suddenly think that bounty hunters are better than smugglers. I guess all those rumors about bounty hunters needing their skills validated all the time must be true.”

“And I can’t believe that smugglers’ egos are so easily threatened by some competition.”

Grogu giggled and jumped up into the cockpit as (Y/N) shot Din a playful glare. “Mir’sheb.”

“I love you too, alor’ad.” With a chuckle, Din’s gloved hand caressed her cheek before moving to rest on the small of her back to help her climb into the cockpit. “Now, let’s go home…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Four
The Homestead

Although Din had visited Nevarro more times than any other planet in the galaxy, it wasn’t until the three of them moved into the cabin on the modest tract of land gifted to them by High Magistrate Karga that he realized just how beautiful the planet was. They lived on the very outskirts of town – close enough to hear the comings and goings of freighter and trade ships by the city gates but far enough away to maintain their much-needed privacy – and from his chair on the porch, Din was able to admire their sprawling tract of land; the land was interspersed with several trees and bushes that provided the wildlife with shade, and there was even a little pond by the cabin’s foot path, where Grogu was currently playing with one of the many frogs.

Din took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of the gentle breeze caressing the bare skin of his face and ruffling his hair, and leaned back in his chair as he crossed his legs and propped them up on the porch rail. “Mesh’la…” He smiled when he noticed the child using the Force to levitate the frog, but the familiar gleam in his son’s wide eyes suddenly gave him pause and caused him to call out, “No, Grogu, you’ll spoil your dinner! (Y/N)’s bringing home dinner from the market, remember?” His resolve started to crumble when a dejected Grogu lowered the frog back into the pond and he heaved a relenting sigh. “How about a cookie instead?” Grogu let out a happy coo and leapt through the air, landing on Din’s outstretched legs with a toothy smile on his face; Din chuckled before reaching into his trouser’s pocket and carefully withdrawing one blue cookie from the packet he kept from the mischievous child. “All right, kid, take the cookie.” In the blink of an eye, the cookie flew out of Din’s hand and he snatched it out of the air, taking a big bite of the sweet treat while Din watched with a grin. “Good job, ad’ika! Just don’t tell your mother about this, okay?” Grogu nodded as he enjoyed his cookie, and Din’s smile grew when he heard the hum of a familiar engine in the distance. “Speaking of your mother…”

Leaving Grogu on the porch to finish up his contraband, Din walked around the cabin’s corner and leaned against a stack of cargo crates as he watched the approaching land-speeder. Thanks to (Y/N)’s bartering skills, they obtained a secondhand land-speeder for traveling to and from the city with ease; Din and Grogu spent time tuning up the engine while (Y/N) worked on hand-sewing a commission from Bo-Katan – new flight suits for the dozen Mandalorian survivors and the covert’s foundlings who found themselves going through sudden growth spurts – and in the process, Din learned the hard way that Grogu preferred to play with the tools over learning how to make repairs. They usually kept their land-speeder docked beside the N-1, which was where (Y/N) parked before jumping out and walking up to him with her arms laden with canvas bags. “Hi, sweetheart! Did you have a good day?”

“Mm-hmm, I finally got the kriffing water pump working again and Grogu helped me clean up the garden.” Din leaned down to give her lips a quick peck and took the bags from her. “How was the market, alor’ad?”

“It was great!” They walked into the cabin and when Din set the bags down onto the kitchen counter, (Y/N) began to unpack them as she continued. “I picked up more thread and even found a vendor selling buttons, so I’ll be able to finish Bo-Katan’s order and we can drop it off on Mandalore on our way to meet Captain Teva on Adelphi next week. The port manager told me that Boba’s shipment of sewing equipment from Tatooine is halfway through the Hydian Way, and she told me that we can borrow a port cart to transport the shipment home when it arrives the day after tomorrow. Oh, and the Anzellans said that we can pick R5 up tomorrow; his tune-up went very well, but he’s really looking forward to coming home with us.”

Hearing his wife call their tract of land home sent a feeling of warmth throughout Din’s body and he took a moment to admire her; the light filtering through the kitchen window from planet’s setting sun illuminated her stunning features, and the combination of the happy sparkle in her (Y/E/C) eyes and the beautiful smile gracing her face made him once again thank the Maker for placing her in his path all those cycles ago. “I’m glad that you’ve had such a productive day, but it sounds like you could use a little relaxation. How about we crack open that bottle of Coruscant mead after the kid falls asleep tonight?”

“Mmm, I knew that I married a brilliant man,” The captain replied with a grin, curling her fingers around the collar of his tunic and pulling him down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. Din hummed in pleasure but just as he placed his hands on her waist and started to deepen their kiss, a cheerful coo sounded throughout the cabin and they separated to see Grogu jump up onto the counter beside them. “Hi, little guy! Did you have a nice day here with your father?” The child gave her an emphatic nod, and Din’s eyes widened as (Y/N) reached over to gently brush several blue crumbs off the collar of his robe. “Ah, I see that someone let you have a cookie before dinner…”

Din quickly rearranged his expression into one of innocence when (Y/N) gave him a pointed glare. “Who, me? Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, that doesn’t sound at all like something I’d do.”

Unconvinced, (Y/N) scooped Grogu up into her arms and pressed a kiss onto his wrinkled head. “Well, since you managed to get yourself messy, little guy, you’ll have to have a bath before dinner…” Grogu grunted in displeasure, having never been too fond of baths, and (Y/N) smiled sweetly up at Din before placing the disgruntled child into his arms. “And you’ll be giving him his bath, sweetheart. Have fun!”

The captain disappeared into their bedroom to change and Din watched her saunter away for a moment before heaving a half-amused, half-exasperated sigh. “Okay, kid, let’s get this over with. And no Force-tricks with the water this time, got it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, after the three of them had eaten their dinner together and they’d put Grogu to bed, Din and (Y/N) found themselves lying on the flat roof of their cabin and drinking Coruscant mead while they watched meteors streaking across the starry night sky high above them.

“You know,” Din’s fingers drummed against his stomach as his eyes followed the flashes of light dancing across the sky. “Mandalorians have a phrase for this.”

With her arms folded to cushion the back of her head, (Y/N) glanced over at him and arched a curious brow. “A word for getting tipsy off of expensive mead and watching a meteor shower?”

“Mir’sheb.” He smiled and shook his head in loving exasperation as his wife giggled. “It’s a phrase that encapsulates the state of peace and rest: Suum ca’nara.”

They both returned their gazes to the night sky and (Y/N) hummed to herself. “Summ ca’nara. It’s a beautiful phrase, sweetheart…but I’m not sure that we’ve achieved it just yet.”

Din’s brow furrowed and he rolled onto his side so that he could see the captain’s face; her expression was nothing but pensive as she stared transfixed up at the meteors and stars above, but there was something lingering in her voice that told him she was deep in thought. “The Mandalorian factions have united as one, Mandalore has been reclaimed from Imperial control, and Moff Gideon is dead. We’re working as independent contractors for the New Republic, our clan has a home to call our own, and you can finally work towards your dream of owning your own seamstress shop. What more could we possibly want?”

“It’s just…” (Y/N) bit her lip and took a deep breath before meeting his eyes. “I was thinking that maybe…well, maybe Grogu would like having a little brother or sister someday. What do you think?”

Din could feel his heart hammering away in his chest as he processed his wife’s words and while she waited for him to reply, he envisioned the remarkable future she presented him with. A baby who resembled both of their parents was peacefully sleeping in a floating pram while (Y/N) worked on a half-finished gown to rival the very best that royal Naboo seamsters could offer, and Din was hard at work training Grogu the Way of the Mandalore outside their modest cabin; Clan Mudhorn would expand from three to four and thanks to their hard efforts, Din and (Y/N) would raise their children in a galaxy that was safer than ever before. It was the sort of future that Din never allowed himself to long for before meeting (Y/N) and even after marrying her, it was one that always seemed impossible for them to achieve. But as he looked down into her (Y/E/C) eyes and saw all the happiness glimmering within them despite living a life filled with sacrifice, hardships and loss – a life so similar to the one he’d lived before crossing paths with the captain and the child – Din realized that as long as (Y/N) and Grogu were by his side, they could achieve the future he’d always dreamed of.

As a smile slowly spread across his face, Din leaned down and gently cradled the hopeful captain’s cheek with a steady hand. “We’re gonna have our hands full, you know.”

“Mm-hmm. Any baby of ours is bound to inherit their father’s bounty hunter’s stubbornness.”

“And they’re certainly gonna be as intelligent as their smuggler mother.”

“A baby that’s a perfect blend of the two of us being raised alongside a Force-wielding Mandalorian apprentice,” (Y/N) mused, a playful gleam in her eyes brought on by their rapport. “Sounds like one hell of an adventure to me.”

Din nodded as his thumb caressed the soft skin of her cheek. “An adventure I’d only ever go on with you by my side, alor’ad.”

Beaming with happiness, (Y/N) flung her arms around his neck as their lips soon met in a kiss filled with burning desire, the pair of them spending the evening locked in a passionate embrace as the stars shone high above and the promise of their suum ca’nara filled the warm night air.

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Five

The Festival

One of the first things that newcomers to Nevarro learned about the small Outer-Rim planet was that the sun set quickly over the vast lava flats and rocky terrain, all thanks to the planet’s unique orbit. The second and most surprising factoid about the Hydian Way’s booming anchor point was that its inhabitants – both the beings that lived on the ashen world of black sands all their lives and the settlers who’d emigrated there after its eventual liberation from Imperial forces – absolutely loved a good party. To please the people of Nevarro, High Magistrate Greef Karga instituted several jubilees commemorating various historical events and local holidays, and the largest of those celebrations was the Festival of Freedom, a day to celebrate the Battle of Endor and the ultimate defeat of the Galactic Empire by the Rebel Alliance.

While (Y/N) enjoyed the city’s many holidays and participated in as many of the festivities as she could, the Festival of Freedom was one that she couldn’t bring herself to celebrate. To a significant part of the galaxy, the war ended that fateful day and peace was automatically achieved the moment that Emperor Palpatine’s death was announced, but that simply wasn’t the case for (Y/N) and every single person who’d fought for the Rebellion; there were still planets to free from Imperial occupation and citizens to save from the wrath of their oppressors, and they simply didn’t have the luxury to stop and celebrate the momentous victory. That, coupled with the fresh memories of their violent and traumatic battle against Moff Gideon and his Stormtroopers on Mandalore, was what compelled (Y/N) to speak up and ask Din over breakfast if they could stay home instead.

“Of course we can, alor’ad,” Din automatically replied, setting his mug of caf down and reaching across the dining room table to rest his hand atop hers, his warm brown eyes overflowing with sincerity and a touch of relief as he continued. “To be honest, I was about to ask you the same question; my back’s still sore from that last hunt, and I don’t think it’ll feel any better if I go ahead and weigh it down with over fifty pounds of beskar.”

“In that case, I suppose that everything they say about great minds thinking alike is true.” (Y/N)’s tone was light and there was a smile on her face, but she expressed her gratitude to her husband by twisting her hand around and threading her fingers securely through his.

(Y/N) and Din spent their day tidying up the house, a task that they’d both been putting off for far too long; with (Y/N) spending most of her time fixing up what would soon become her seamstress shop, Din training Grogu in the Way of the Mandalore and the pair of them hunting down bounties across the galaxy for Captain Teva, their humble home and garden had fallen into the wayside. By dinnertime, they’d cleaned the kitchen and ‘fresher, straightened up the bedroom and living room, weeded the garden and were nearly finished folding their newly-washed clothes, all while taking turns encouraging Grogu to practice wielding the Force.

The sun had already set by the time they finished preparing dinner and tiredly sat down to enjoy their food, the both of them wishing that they could call it a night and go to bed early but knowing that the Festival of Freedom’s fireworks show would only disturb their slumber. “So, what do you wanna do to pass the time until the festival’s over?” (Y/N) asked, reclining on their couch with Grogu seated on her lap and absentmindedly tossing his silver sphere across the room, only for the child to halt its movement and summon it back to her using the Force. “We could play a game of sabacc…or we could watch a holovid…or we could always disassemble and clean every single blaster on this property…”

“If we did that, we wouldn’t finish until next cycle’s Festival of Freedom,” Din chuckled as he plopped down onto the couch beside her. Although they’d been living on Nevarro for several weeks, she was still growing accustom to seeing her husband without any of his beskar armor on; on their little tract of land, he exclusively wore the durable work-wear and comfortable lounge-wear she’d sewn for him, and she couldn’t get enough of seeing the fearsome Mandalorian looking so relaxed and at peace. “Why don’t you teach me how to sew?”

(Y/N)’s brow rose in surprise. “You wanna learn how to sew?”

“Of course, alor’ad. Your craft is important to you and to your people’s culture, which means that it’s important to me as well,” Din explained as his brown eyes shone with earnestness. “If you can learn how to fight from a Mandalorian warrior, then I can learn how to sew from a Naboo seamstress.”

A smile slowly spread across her face at that. “All right, then. We’ll start with something simple and go from there, okay?”

Her husband got up from the couch and bent down to kiss her forehead as he went to retrieve her sewing kit. “You’re the alor’ad!”

Although sewing was the furthest thing from the typical repertoire of a fully-trained Mandalorian warrior, Din was a patient student who listened to her instructions and watched her demonstrations with rapt attention. She showed him how to thread a needle and tie it off, then sat back and allowed him to practice on a scrap of plain cotton; thanks to his mastery of countless weapons at a young age, he possessed a delicate touch typically unseen in those with larger hands and after a couple of attempts, he successfully completed the task. It was then that Grogu, having grown bored with their unusual distraction and tired from his active day of training, let his parents tuck him into bed and instantly fell asleep, cuddling up to his stuffed loth-cat toy as he snored. As quietly as they could, they crept back into the living room and after enjoying a glass of wine, (Y/N) talked Din through sewing a button onto the scrap cotton.

“Okay, now make four stitches below the button to secure it…no, a little to the-yep, right there. Now, tie the thread off,” (Y/N) instructed and once Din finished, she offered him her small pair of scissors along with a proud grin. “And all you have to do now is trim off the excess.”

Accepting the scissors, her husband carefully snipped the thread and held up the cloth to admire his handiwork. “I lost track of how many times I’ve tried and failed to stitch buttons back onto my clothes, and I don’t even wanna know how many credits I spent at different tailoring stalls and seamstress booths before I met you.”

“While I can’t get you those credits back, I can make sure that you never have to pay to have your clothes repaired…with credits, that is. I still require kisses and cuddles in exchange for my repairing skills,” (Y/N) sunnily replied.

The Mandalorian’s lips curved into a suggestive smile as he set the cloth aside and rested a hand on the curve of her waist. “And what’ll these lessons end up costing me?”

Feeling a little mischievous, (Y/N) leaned over and trailed soft kisses along the scruff of his cheek, stopping right next to his ear and whispering, “Dish duty for a week.”

“Mir’sheb!” Din exclaimed in exaggerated outrage, his fingers dug into her side while (Y/N) devolved into fits of giggles and attempted to squirm away from his tickling attack.

Before Din’s lips could descend onto hers, the thunderous explosion of a firework echoed outside and their home’s foundation quaked; in an instant, (Y/N) was jarringly reminded of why they opted to stay home in the first place, and she immediately sobered. “Let’s, um…let’s try a little embroidery. It’s tricky to get a hang of but it’ll be a nice challenge…” She quickly extracted herself from her husband’s arms and crossed the living room to rummage through her chest of sewing supplies, vaguely aware of her frantic heartbeat and sweaty palms as she fought to keep her voice to stay steady. “We need some embroidery thread and needles-” Another firework exploded and her grip on the chest’s lid tightened in response. “D-Did you know that Boba gifted me an embroidery machine? Yeah, it’s a pre-Empire model, even older than the one my mother used to use.”

“Alor’ad…?”

“It works in a pinch, but I’d much rather embroider by hand if I can help it-”

“(Y/N).” Her eyes briefly closed for a moment and she shut the chest’s lid, slowly sinking to the ground and wrapping her arms around her knees, her gaze diligently trained on the star-patterned material of her lounge pants but mindful of Din as he tentatively lowered himself to sit on the floor beside her. “Please, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, tell me what’s wrong.”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) finally looked over at Din and felt a surge of guilt when she saw the concern written across his face. “Where were you when you heard about the Battle of Endor?”

Her husband’s brows briefly rose in surprise, apparently taken aback by her unusual question. “I was at the covert. I’d just returned from a job with a beskar ingot and the Armorer was forging my left vambrace when we got word that the Emperor was dead; in the city above us, the citizens were rioting and the Imperial garrisons were quick to abandon the planet once they realized that there were targets on their backs.” When she nodded and remained silent, a look of realization filled his warm brown eyes. “I thought that the fireworks might’ve triggered memories of your time in the Rebellion…but it’s something more than that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) mumbled, dropping her gaze and tightening her hold on her knees when another firework exploded in the distance. “The day the Emperor died, I was smuggling over a hundred civilians off of Chandrila. We were stopped at a blockade and when I realized my cover was blown, I initiated evasive maneuvers; the transport I was piloting was a piece of bantha fodder, though, and it wasn’t long until the TIE Fighters damaged out fuel cells, making it impossible to make the jump to hyperspace without landing for repairs first. If those refugees were from any other planet, surrender would’ve meant they’d become prisoners of war but at least they’d be alive. Unfortunately, Chandrila’s outspoken support for the Rebellion meant that any of its citizens caught fleeing Imperial rule would be labeled as traitors to the Empire and executed on the spot.”

“What happened then?”

“My transport received an urgent transmission from one of the Rebel Alliance’s top generals, relaying the news that a second Death Star had been destroyed and rallying the galaxy to join in the fight against the Empire,” (Y/N) replied, briefly glancing over at Din as she continued. “They told me later that the holographic transmission had been broadcast across the galaxy but in that moment, I could’ve sworn that it was meant for me; it gave me hope for the first time in cycles that someday we’d be free and that everything we were doing as Rebels would finally come to fruition.” Her fingers idly fiddled with the material of her lounge pants and she could feel him shift beside her. “So, I flew our transport into an asteroid field and eventually managed to shake the TIE Fighters in there before landing on a nearby moon for emergency repairs. Once we repaired the fuel rods, I flew them all to our base on Bayora and was given orders to immediately evacuate another refugee settlement on Kuan.”

When she finished her tale, she took a deep breath and turned towards Din; his expression wasn’t one of pity or sympathy, but one of deep understanding that only someone who’d known bloodshed and loss all their life could ever convey. “The war didn’t end for you that day. That’s why you didn’t wanna go to the Festival of Freedom today.”

“It’s difficult to enjoy the celebratory fireworks show when all I hear are the terrified screams of those refugees every time those TIE Fighters bombarded our shields,” (Y/N) replied with a sullen, humorless smile. “I don’t fault anyone for commemorating one of the Rebellion’s landmark milestones, of course, but I don’t think I’m ready to move on and forget about that day.”

While her words still hung in the air, her thoughtful and kind-hearted husband reached over and rested a hand on her knee, the sensation of his thumb tracing warm circles along her limb succeeding in grounding her swirling emotions. “No one can tell you what to feel, alor’ad; you spent years witnessing first-hand the galaxy-wide horrors that the Empire inflicted on its people, and it would be cruel to tell you to just forget those horrors for the sake of a celebration.” He brought his free hand up to brush a wayward strand of hair behind her ear before gently cupping her cheek in his palm. “But you can’t remember the bad without acknowledging the good; you saved the lives of over a hundred refugees that day and the moment you got them to safety, you went on to save countless more. If it were up to me, the New Republic would set a day to honor you and every other Rebellion smuggler who risked their life to save our galaxy’s most vulnerable from the Empire’s wrath,” Din paused to give her a knowing smile. “But I’ve known you long enough to know that you’d rather eat a mynock than be the center of attention.”

(Y/N) laughed. “You really do know me, don’t you?” When their laughter died down, she took the hand that had been resting on her knee between her own and held it tightly. The Mandalorian’s hand was calloused and scarred from his years as a follower of the Way but while he viewed them as simple blemishes, she considered them to be badges of honor; they were an integral part of who he was as a person and evidence of his devotion to his religion and despite his own ambivalence towards them, she adored each and every one of them. Most of my scars are invisible, she thought to herself as she stared into her husband’s softening eyes, but that doesn’t mean he loves them any less. “But you’re right, sweetheart. I’ll find a way to balance the good and the bad and maybe next cycle, we’ll make it to the Festival of Freedom.”

“As long as you’re ready, we can do whatever you’d like,” Din promised, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss onto her brow and pulling back to give her a challenging smirk. “So, what’s this I hear about embroidery being too tricky for a beginner like me?”

“Hey, I never said that it was too tricky because you’re a beginner…” She didn’t bother to suppress the impish smile that began spreading across her face as she continued. “Everyone knows that bounty hunters lack a delicate touch.”

Instead of countering her playful insult with one of his own, Din arched a suggestive brow while his brown eyes darkened with a sudden fiery desire. “Is that so? Kelir Ni tengaanar gar pehea laandur Ni liser cuyir, ner ori’atin riduur?”

Upon hearing her husband speaking Mando’a so seductively to her, a pleasant shiver ran down (Y/N)’s spine and she felt her face warm when his eyes darted down to watch her reflexively bite her lip. The smoldering expression on Din’s handsome face was momentarily overtaken by confusion when (Y/N) got to her feet and began walking away, and she couldn’t help but smirk as she stopped to look over her shoulder at him and planted a hand on her hip. “You coming, or do bounty hunters require a written invitation?”

Din, clearly opting to ignore his aching back, leapt to his feet at an almost inhuman speed and scooped her up into his arms with a chuckle, muffling her own giggles with a passionate kiss as he carried her into their bedroom and locked the door behind them.

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Six

The Surprise

From the moment they first met, Din Djarin knew that Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was a strong, intelligent and courageous woman. She could out-fly seasoned pilots without breaking a sweat, draw her blaster quicker than any hot-shot gunslinger in the Outer Rim and strategize the most complex battle plans with nothing more than a few words of intel and her immense determination. In all the time he’d known her, she’d survived cuts, burns, sprains, breaks, concussions and blaster wounds and had come out on the other side of all of them tougher and stronger than before, and that wasn’t even accounting for the injuries she’d sustained as a smuggler for both herself and for the Rebel Alliance. Needless to say, Din knew that his wife could take care of herself on and off the battlefield, which was why her current bout of illness was worrying him so much.

At first, Din chalked (Y/N)’s cramping, headaches and fatigue up to anxiety; in between helping him capture bounties for the New Republic, the captain had been hard at work preparing her brand-new seamstress shop for its grand opening, setting up the shop’s inviting interior by hand and training a handful of assistants to work the various machines. She was thrilled to finally make her dream of practicing her mother’s trade a reality, but it was clear that she was also nervous about the new venture. It wasn’t until her near-constant nausea and vomiting began that Din started growing concerned for his wife’s dwindling health; he’d all but begged her to visit Nevarro’s health clinic for a check-up, his mounting worry even trumping his deep-rooted mistrust of droids.

Unfortunately, the captain’s scheduled appointment clashed with Din’s mission to apprehend an escaped Imperial informant and just as he prepared to inform Captain Teva that he was unable to accept the mission, (Y/N) insisted that he still go after the bounty and that she’d be fine going to the health clinic by herself. Din, less than pleased with the arrangement but unwilling to add to her stress by arguing, kissed his wife and son goodbye and left for Manpha; he used all of his well-honed bounty hunting skills to track down and capture the Imp in less than twenty-four hours, dropping him off on Adelphi for Captain Teva to legally apprehend on behalf of the New Republic and speeding through the Hydian Way back home to Nevarro.

“Welcome to Nevarro, independent trade anchor and Outer Rim Hyperlane port. Please state the purpose of your-”

“Jarsa, I know you know that I live here. You don’t have to ask me to state the purpose of my visit every kriffing time I return home.”

Din could practically hear the docking bay manager’s exasperated eye-roll before she stiffly replied, “And as I’ve already told you, Mando, if you have a complaint about our regulations then you’ll have to take it up with Magistrate Karga. State the purpose of your visit, please.”

After muttering a string of curses under his breath, Din heaved a sigh and replied through gritted teeth, “Returning to my place of residence. Happy?”

“You may now initiate landing sequences. Have a pleasant day.”

Din grumbled a biting insult in Mando’a as he expertly landed the N-1 Starfighter down onto their assigned spot and jumped down from the cockpit the moment the starship’s engines shut off; he strode through the crowded docking bay with purpose and once he reached the city gate, he spared a glance at the nearby designated speeder docking lot. After spotting their blue and silver land speeder docked at the end of the nearest aisle, he all but jogged through the city gate and hurried down the crowded streets, finally skidding to a stop in front of his wife’s half-finished seamstress shop.

Leafy branches of purple and white flowers framed the shop’s doorway and the large window displayed two empty dress forms, both waiting to be fitted in the seamstress’s finest creations, and above the window hung a sign written in Aurebesh: House of (Y/L/N). Through the window, Din could see a couple of shop assistants organizing a rack of fabric bolts and he felt himself begin to relax when (Y/N) walked into view; the captain was directing another assistant as he balanced on a ladder and installed a hologram projector above a vacant niche, her authoritative posture and the way she practically glowed with excitement warming Din’s heart and making him smile for the first time in days. She was dressed in one of her original designs, a lavender jumpsuit and flowing silver-colored embroidered cloak that synched at her waist, and her hair was pulled into a simple style inspired by her Naboo heritage; she looks a lot healthier than she did when I left, he thought with an inward sigh of relief, maybe she was right and it was only a simple stomach bug.

“Mando!” Din turned to see Greef Karga striding down the cobblestone street towards him while his protocol droid teetered close behind. “Back already? That might’ve been your fastest hunt yet!”

“(Y/N) hasn’t been feeling very well lately, so I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t be alone with Grogu and the shop for too long,” Din explained before nodding towards the shop in question. “Have things been quiet around here today?”

The High Magistrate chuckled. “It has, but I did receive a few reports of your little guy getting up to some mischief by chasing Kowakian monkey-lizards in the main courtyard; other than causing a little ruckus and delaying the cantina’s food shipment by a few minutes, there was absolutely no harm done.” Din bit back a wince at that; since (Y/N) had fallen ill, Grogu’s behavior had been more unpredictable than usual and while they believed that he was only concerned for her health, his antics weren’t exactly alleviating any of their stress. “However, I was hoping that you and your lovely wife could explain to him that that sort of behavior’s really meant more for the city’s playground and not its busy streets.”

“Of course.”

“Good! Now, I have some business to attend to down at the docking bay, something about a disgruntled dock manager…” In that moment, Din was grateful that his expression was hidden away behind his beskar helmet. “Be sure to give Captain (Y/L/N) my best!”

“I will.” Din watched the High Magistrate and his protocol droid stroll down the street and when they turned the corner, he heaved a weary sigh and turned to enter House of (Y/L/N). A pleasant jingle sounded throughout the shop the moment he stepped through the threshold, causing everyone to look away from their tasks and towards the doorway; Din’s eyes were trained on the captain as her features were brightened by a happy smile and he was only barely listening as she dismissed her apprentices for the day, too distracted by her shining (Y/E/C) eyes and the way her jumpsuit hugged her curves beneath the sheer silver cloak.

“I think we’ll go ahead and call it a day. Thank you for all your hard work today, and have a wonderful rest of your afternoon!” (Y/N) called after the apprentices, locking the front door and rolling the privacy shade down over the window before launching herself into Din’s waiting arms with an elated laugh. “I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow! How’d the hunt go? Any injuries? How’s Captain Teva these days?”

Din chuckled, gently set her back down on her feet but holding her close to him. “Puhoi daab, ner cyar’ika alor’ad. The hunt was successful, Teva sends his regards and I’m not injured, but I’m more concerned about you right now.” He pulled back and removed his helmet, setting it down on one of the workbenches before holding his wife at arm’s length and examining her for any lingering signs of illness. “How did your appointment go?”

“The med droids said that it was just my body responding to stress; they suggested I eat some ginger root, drink plenty of fluids and get some rest.” Din breathed a sigh of relief but when he opened his mouth to interject, (Y/N)’s finger moved to rest on his lips to stop him and she gave him a knowing smile. “I bought some ginger root at the market after my appointment, I already drank two bottles of water today and we can go home, just as soon as I put some things away and lock up.” She lightly tapped the end of his nose with her finger as her eyes twinkled with affection. “Ner atin beroya.”

Shaking his head in playful exasperation, Din leaned down and gave his wife another kiss before letting her go and watching her fasten cloth coverings over displays filled with bolts of material; he took a seat at the nearby workbench, knowing better than to get in the captain’s way while she worked in her element, and he glanced inquiringly around the shop. “Where’s Grogu?”

“Asleep in the backroom; that little womp rat spent the morning chasing Kowakian monkey-lizards in the courtyard, and then he scarfed down an entire pack of roasted Kajaka Root before passing out!” When Din snorted in amusement, (Y/N) turned around with her hands on her hips and shot him a pointed look, all while fighting back a smile of her own. “Din, we can’t just let our son terrorize the citizens and local wildlife of Nevarro; we have to try and discipline him.”

He tugged his leather gloves off and nodded. “You’re right, alor’ad. I promised Karga that we’d talk to him and try to reign him in a little, but I don’t know how effective we’ll be; Grogu’s older than the both of us, after all.”

While (Y/N) breezed past with a tray filled with spools of colorful thread, she briefly paused to press a chaste kiss onto his temple and crossed the shop to place it in an open cabinet. “If we put our minds to it, we can do pretty much anything…even if it means finding a way to convince a fifty-plus year old Force-wielding child to behave himself. It’ll be a slice of uj’alayi, you’ll see!” She stacked another two trays of beads and embellishments in the cabinet before calling out, “R5, could you come here and lock these cabinets for me, please?” The astromech droid rolled out from the backroom and stopped in front of the data port near the captain, using his scomp link to close and lock all of the shop’s cabinets. “Thank you, R5.”

The astromech released a string of beeps and whistles as he rolled away, and Din watched the droid leave with the barest of smiles on his face. “You know, I think R5 likes it here.”

“A seasoned Rebellion veteran like R5 deserves a peaceful retirement,” (Y/N) replied, a mischievous gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes as she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, a mostly peaceful retirement; he does have to put up with a grumpy Mandalorian on a regular basis.”

“Mir’sheb. You really must be feeling better if you’ve got the energy to tease your poor husband.” Din chuckled as his wife rolled her eyes and moved an empty dress form into the closest corner.

Glancing around the workbench he was leaning on, he picked up the captain’s well-worn holo-pad and swiped through her newest design sketches, marveling at the artistry and imagination present in every little detail. “Oh, those are some new designs for an upcoming line of maternity wear.”

Din swiped away from a panel of blouses and trousers to see a panel filled with day dresses and nightgowns, and he smiled up at (Y/N) when she moved to lean against the workbench. “They’re pretty, alor’ad. Some of your best work yet.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” When he turned his attention back to the holo-pad, the captain’s fingers gently carded through his messy curls as she continued. “I still need to tweak the silhouettes and figure out which fabrics to use for certain designs. Luckily, I’ll be able to test them all out on myself before I decide which ones to produce for the shop.”

“Yeah, that’s-wait, what?” Din’s head snapped up and everything around him seemed to fade away as his widened eyes met (Y/N)’s; he was barely aware of setting the holo-pad down and turning in his seat to face her, his mind only able to focus on the soft hands cradling his face and the tears beginning to well up in his wife’s eyes. “…When you said you’d be able to test them out on yourself, did you mean…?”

(Y/N) nodded and smiled widely through her tears of joy. “I’m pregnant, Din. We’re gonna have another child.”

An overjoyed grin spread across Din’s face and with a laugh of delighted disbelief, he jumped to his feet and enveloped (Y/N) in a tight embrace that she was quick to return; the captain giggled when he suddenly lifted her off her feet and spun her in a circle, her sheer silver cloak fluttering around their legs and twinkling under the shop’s bright lights. When he set her down on her feet, she took him by surprise when her lips quickly met his in a passionate kiss; one of his hands held her cheek while the other slid down to rest on the curve of her waist, and he couldn’t contain his blissful moan as her fingers tangled into his hair. It was when Din noticed the captain’s knees weakening that he pulled away, chuckling at her noise of protest but making it up to her by pressing feather-light kisses along her cheekbone and forehead. “So that’s why you’ve been so nauseated and exhausted lately, isn’t it? How far along are you?”

“Five weeks,” (Y/N) replied, still a little breathless as she allowed him to brush and kiss her errant tears away. “The med droids prescribed me some prenatal vitamins and after taking them with a cup of ginger root tea, I’m feeling much, much better.” She kissed his palm and gazed up at him, her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkling with elation. “Are you happy, sweetheart?”

Din nodded vigorously, giving his wife a tender smile as his thumb delicately caressed the soft skin of her cheek. “I-I’m…Alor’ad, this is one of the happiest moments of my whole life. Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika riduur.”

“Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika riduur,” (Y/N) whispered back before standing on her tiptoes and capturing his lips in another passion-filled kiss. After several blissful moments, she pulled away and laughed a little to herself when Din chased after her lips. “And that’s just the sort of behavior that got us in this situation in the first place…”

“You said that you’re five weeks along? You know, I seem to recall an incident five weeks ago when you pulled me into the backroom and-” His wife hastily silenced him with a kiss and he chuckled against her lips as he readily kissed her back, leaning back after several heartbeats and moving his arms to hold her around the waist. “Are you happy, ner cyar’ika alor’ad?”

“I couldn’t be any happier, sweetheart.” Reaching down, (Y/N) took one of Din’s hands and moved it to rest on her abdomen; it was unchanged, free of any indication that the manifestation of their loving bond was growing within, but just knowing that their baby was there made Din’s heart burst with pure and unadulterated joy. “You should know that I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that Grogu’s known about his little brother or sister for quite some time.”

For a split-second, Din’s brows furrowed in confusion but realization quickly dawned on him. “Through the Force…wait, is that even how the Force works?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I have no idea, but it explains why he’s been so excitable lately; the poor little guy’s been trying to tell us about the baby for weeks and we had no way of understanding him.”

As if he’d been secretly listening in on their conversation, Grogu’s floating pram drifted into the shop from the backroom and with a coo of happiness, he leapt into the air and landed in Din’s waiting arm; the child nuzzled his wrinkled green face against Din’s cowl before clinging onto (Y/N)’s jumpsuit, babbling excitedly as he stretched his clawed hand down towards her abdomen. “You excited to have a little brother or sister, kid?” Din and (Y/N) both burst into laughter at their son’s withering side-eye, and Din gave one of the child’s large ears an affectionate rub. “Yeah, I know, that’s a pretty dumb question to ask you. But now that we finally know what you’ve been trying to tell us, you’ve gotta behave yourself in public, okay? No more chasing the city’s vermin in the courtyard and stressing your mother out.”

Grogu responded by blowing a loud raspberry and somersaulting back into his pram, only to pull a small package of blue cookies out from under his blankets and begin munching on one. “Well, no one can say that you didn’t try,” The captain quipped, fighting a losing battle against the grin that was spreading across her face as her eyes sparkled with mischief. “After all, everyone knows that a bounty hunter’s negotiation skills are inferior to those of a smuggler.”

“Is that so?” Din smirked at their familiar rapport, wrapping his arms back around her waist and straightening his posture so that (Y/N)’s weight rested against his and their gazes were nearly leveled. “Any chance I can change your mind with a bubble bath and a package of Chandrilan chocolate?”

(Y/N) arched a playful brow at that. “You really think that bribery will work on me?”

“Of course, everyone knows that smugglers can’t resist a good bribe.”

“Mir’sheb!” Din chuckled at his wife’s exaggerated gasp of outrage, which was soon followed by a grin. “You’re lucky that I love you so much, Din Djarin.”

“Yes, I am. Right now, I’d wager that I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy,” He answered honestly and her eyes shone with tenderness as she held his face between her hands. “You and Grogu and this baby are my life, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, and I swear on all the stars I’ll never leave your side.” Tears filled the captain’s eyes and after pressing a sweet kiss onto his lips, she nuzzled her face into his cowl and tightened her hold around him; smiling to himself, Din briefly closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her head, savoring the feeling of holding his wife close and the sounds of his son’s content coos from his pram. “Ready to go home now?”

(Y/N) pulled away and her smile nearly took Din’s breath away. “I’d love nothing more.”

After slipping his helmet and gloves back on, Din followed (Y/N), Grogu and R5-D4 out of the shop and waited for (Y/N) to finish locking up before offering her his hand, which she readily accepted. As he walked hand-in-hand with his wife and watched in amusement as their dutiful astromech kept blocking Grogu’s attempts to steer his pram towards the city’s many food stalls, he sent a silent word of thanks to the Maker that after a lifetime of pain and loneliness, the universe finally saw fit to bless him with an aliit of his own and the promise of their clan’s suum ca’nara on the horizon.

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Seven

The Shop

“Thank you, thank you!” Greef Karga beamed as the crowd before him clapped, practically preening under his people’s undivided attention and patiently waiting for their applause to die down before continuing his speech. “It’s truly an honor to be here with you all today, and we couldn’t be gathered here together for a more momentous occasion. Several cycles ago, I had the pleasure of being introduced to a charming young lady, whose otherworldly beauty was matched only by her astounding piloting skills, her admirable bravery and her razor-sharp wit.”

From where she stood at the back of the crowd with her family, (Y/N) felt herself flush with embarrassment and she sheepishly murmured, “Such a kriffing scoundrel…”

Din’s gloved hand rubbed slow circles across the small of her back as he mumbled back, “He's out of line but that doesn’t mean that he’s wrong, alor’ad.”

(Y/N) playfully elbowed her husband’s un-armored side before resting her hand back on her small baby bump and returning her attention to the High Magistrate. “This young lady, a decorated veteran of the Rebel Alliance, used her immense talents to help finally rid our planet of Imperial remnants and some time later, she took up arms against Pirate King Gorian Shard and his army to protect Nevarro in one of our darkest hours. She and her growing family now call this planet their home and today, she is fulfilling her lifelong dream of opening her very own seamstress shop and bringing a piece of Naboo to our humble homeworld.” The crowd clapped for Greef’s praises, and (Y/N) steeled her nerves for what she knew was coming. “And now, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you all the woman of the hour, Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!”

Din lowered his head to nudge hers in a Keldabe Kiss while Grogu babbled excitedly at her from the crook of his arm, and she gave them both a wide smile before turning and striding through the applauding crowd to where Greef stood in front of her shop; the High Magistrate bowed to her and pressed a kiss onto her knuckles, his impertinent wink forcing her to muffle her giggles as she turned to address the crowd. “Thank you all so much for being here today. When I was a child, my mother used to dream of opening her own seamstress shop on our homeworld of Naboo, but she passed away before she could; her dream became mine and today, our shared dream has finally come true. Just as our High Magistrate said, I’ve brought my culture here to share with all of you and I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to do so.”

“Would you care to do the honors?” Greef inquired as the crowd gave (Y/N) a round of applause; he handed her a pair of fabric scissors and gestured towards Nida and Vorelin, her two head shop assistants, who’d stretched a white satin ribbon across the shop’s doorway. When she took her place behind the ribbon, her eyes briefly met the visor of her husband’s helmet and she beamed when he gave her a reassuring nod; she shared a smile with the High Magistrate before slicing through the ribbon and even clapped alongside the crowd. “As the High Magistrate of Nevarro, it gives me great pleasure to declare the House of (Y/L/N) open for business!”

The crowd of citizens started to disperse, with most of them filing into the shop to begin browsing their on-the-rack offerings and booking consultations and the others stopping by the food stall outside and indulging in the complementary five-blossom bread that Greef had imported all the way from Naboo. (Y/N) shook Greef’s hand and thanked him for his kind words before making her way across the street to her family; Grogu was perched on the lowest branch of one of the city’s flourishing trees, hovering fallen leaves with the Force and manipulating them into the shapes of various animals, and Din was leaning against its white bark trunk and keeping a close eye on the rambunctious child. Her footsteps quickened and her husband only had a handful of seconds to prepare before she launched herself into his arms, laughing in delight when he spun her around in a tight circle and set her down to press a lingering Keldabe Kiss against her forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, alor’ad.” The warm and honeyed tone of Din’s modulated voice caused (Y/N)’s face to flush and sent a pleasant jolt through her body, and her cheeks were starting to ache from how widely she was smiling. “And while I never had a chance to meet her, I know that your mother would be proud as well. You’ve worked so hard and for so long to achieve your dream, ner cyar’ika riduur, and there’s no one in the galaxy more deserving of all this than you.”

Pulling away so that she could better look into his helmet’s visor, she rested her hands on his chestplate and shook her head. “My dream wouldn’t be complete without you, Din.” One of her hands trailed upwards to cup the side of his helmet and she traced the pad of her thumb along the beskar’s angular design. “You supported me every step of the way, and there’s no one else in this or any other galaxy that I’d rather share all of this with than you.”

Din’s hands squeezed her waist and his helmeted head pressed further against her hand. “Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

Just as her husband leaned in for another Keldabe Kiss, Grogu hopped down from the branch above them and landed on her shoulder, nuzzling his face against her intricate Naboo hairstyle while both (Y/N) and Din chuckled. “You too, little guy. You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?” The child cooed from his perch on her shoulder, and she reached up to boop his nose and give his large ear an affectionate rub. “I don’t know about you, but I’m craving some five-blossom bread; how ‘bout we have a little snack before I head into the shop?”

Grogu babbled out an enthusiastic reply while Din maneuvered one of his gloved hands to rest against the slight swell of her stomach. “You sure it’s not our other little one who’s craving some Naboo delicacies?”

“Well, they are half-Naboo, after all,” (Y/N) conceded with a small smile. “Maybe today, they’ll finally let me keep some food down for longer than an hour.”

Humming in sympathy, the Mandalorian bowed his head to address her stomach. “Be good to your mother today, ad’ika.; we’re here to celebrate the grand opening of her shop, and it’s a very important day for her.”

(Y/N) bit her lip to keep from chuckling at the dichotomy of his no-nonsense words and his affectionate tone. After pressing a kiss onto Grogu’s wrinkled forehead, she slipped her hand into Din’s and beamed at the pair of them. “C’mon, you two, let’s go grab a little snack before I have to attend to my customers.” Those words, the words that her mother had dreamed of uttering for so long and the ones that (Y/N) had longed to say aloud ever since, caused a prideful grin to spread across her face as she strode across the crowded street alongside her family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) spent the rest of the day talking to curious townspeople, scheduling consultations for various custom-designed garments, overseeing the shop’s three newly-trained associates and helping Nida and Vorelin run the register; many of their pre-made offerings proved to be a hit, forcing R5-D4 to quickly retrieve several racks of overstock from the backroom for their customers to eagerly peruse. While she dealt with a steady stream of patrons, Din took Grogu to the city’s public playground to socialize with the other children and ensure that he experienced a semblance of a normal childhood. As normal of a childhood he could have with a Mandalorian bounty hunter for a father and a Rebellion smuggler-slash-seamstress-shop owner for a mother, (Y/N) thought with an inward chuckle while she finished wrapping up a child’s dark green poncho for another satisfied customer.

While she handed over the bundle and bid her happy customer farewell, a flurry of movement outside the shop’s windows caught her attention; people were hurrying down the street, some full-on sprinting, and it was clear by the terror written across their faces that something was horribly wrong at the city’s main gate. “Pirates!” A frightened man darted into the shop with his irate tabby loth-cat clutched tightly in his arms. “The pirates are back!”

(Y/N)’s instincts kicked in before she even realized what she was doing; she pulled her holstered blaster out from under the counter and fastened it around her waist before shedding her outfit’s decorative shawl and turning to her two anxious head shop assistants. “Get as many people into the shop as you can, then activate the security protocols. I’ll take R5 with me to see what’s going on out there.”

“Okay, but be careful,” Vorelin cautioned, the Mirian male’s green-hued skin going pale as he nervously gulped. “Mando will disintegrate us if anything happens to you.”

“Don’t be silly, Vorelin, he won’t-” (Y/N) cut herself off when Nida whipped her tendril-covered head around to give her an incredulous look while Vorelin awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be careful.”

Gesturing for her family’s astromech droid to follow, (Y/N) left the shop and navigated the packed city streets as quickly as she could, all the while keeping an eye out for Din and Grogu. Just before rounding the corner and stepping out into the city’s main courtyard, she gripped the hilt of her holstered blaster and took a deep steadying breath, but the sound of a familiar commanding voice instantly froze her in place.

“…been nothing but cooperative from the moment we arrived, High Magistrate Karga; we already stated our purpose in visiting Nevarro and my crew generously offered to stay onboard our ship while I sort this whole mess out, and all you or this kriffing Mandalorian can do is hurl baseless accusations at us!”

(Y/N) was only vaguely aware of both Din and Greef’s voices attempting to reason with the irate woman, wholly consumed by her own memories of her turbulent adolescence and the people who’d offered her aid in her darkest hour. “Oh my Maker…” (Y/N) breathed in awe as a smile slowly spread across her face, letting go of her blaster’s hilt and reaching up to fiddle with one of her styled braids while she recalled the girl who’d transformed the worst day of her life into one of the very best…

Wiping away her tears, (Y/N) drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs in a poor attempt to generate warmth; space was cold, much colder than she’d anticipated, but then again, she’d never been to space before. Naboo was the only home she’d ever known but now that her mother – the only family she had – was gone, the frightened twelve-year old had no home. With the knowledge that she was dying, Lomiya Corrik arranged for (Y/N) to be taken off-world by the Lok Revenants and placed in the custody of some old friends of hers; Mama said that they’re smugglers, (Y/N) bit her bottom lip once again and winced when she tasted blood in her mouth, she never told me that she knew smugglers.

“Hey, kid.” (Y/N) glanced up to see a young woman standing in the entrance of the starship’s main hold; she looked to be an older teenager, with triangular orchid-colored eyes, light brown-hued skin and auburn hair, and she was offering her a kind smile as she held up a bundle of worn fabric for her to see. “Space can be pretty cold, so I brought you a blanket.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and quietly replied, “Thank you.”

The teenager nodded, handing over the blanket and taking a seat across from her at the circular table; she waited until (Y/N) wrapped the blanket around her shoulders speak again. “You don’t have to be scared, y’know. The Car’das are gonna take real good care of you; you’ll be well cared for but more importantly, you’ll be safe from the Empire.”

“I’m not scared.” (Y/N) lied, her arms tightening around her legs as she looked down at the ship’s dingy floor and sniffed. “I…I miss my mother.”

The main hold was filled with a deafening silence but just when she was beginning to think that the teenager would leave her alone, she sat up in her seat with a wide smile across her face. “You ever play Dejarik?” Looking back up, (Y/N) frowned in confusion and shook her head, which only made the teenager’s smile grow. “Oh, you’re gonna love it! Here, watch this…” She flipped a switch beneath the table and various holograms flickered into existence, each one depicting a different creature; they snarled and growled as they traversed the tabletop, and (Y/N) couldn’t contain her excitement at the wondrous sight. “Cool, right? Did you wanna learn how to play?” (Y/N) eagerly nodded. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Sol-I mean, (Y/N),” She replied, silently kicking herself for nearly revealing her real name to a complete stranger. “It’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

The teenager reached across the table to offer her a hand to shake. “My name’s-”

“Biala Sage…” (Y/N) breathed, returning to the present with a small shake of her head and a disbelieving smile spreading across her face. “C’mon, R5, let’s go greet our guest.” The astromech beeped in protest and rapidly shook his head. “I know, I know, but she’s not that kind of pirate, I promise. You trust me, right?” There was apprehension in his beeps and whistles as he replied, but he bravely began to follow after her. “That’s the spirit, R5!”

Hurrying into the courtyard, (Y/N) was immediately met with a surprising and slightly amusing sight; Greef and Din stood by the old location of IG-11’s statue, their backs facing her but their discomfort evident in their defensive stances as they were being scolded by none other than Biala Sage; the pirate captain looked relatively unchanged from when (Y/N) had known her, with smile lines etched into her light brown-hued skin and the wind blowing her auburn fringe away from her forehead, but as she drew nearer, she could see the mechno-arm that now replaced her old friend’s organic right arm. “Why’s it so hard to believe that we’re here to shop? We heard talk through the Hydian Way of a Naboo seamstress setting up shop in the Outer Rim, and we-” Biala cut her explanation short as her gaze met (Y/N)’s from over Din’s armored shoulder, her orchid-colored eyes widening in elated surprise. “(Y/N)?”

“Biala!” (Y/N) picked up her pace and met her old friend halfway across the courtyard, throwing her arms around the older woman and hugging her tight with a joyful laugh. “Maker, it’s so good to see you again!”

“How long’s it been, ten years?” Biala pulled away and held her at arm’s length to examine her. “You look amazing, kid!”

“So do you, D.D.! Your new arm’s incredible, a true work of art!”

“You Naboo are all such flatterers. But seriously, your skin’s practically glowing and your hair…” The pirate captain’s eyes flicked away from her face and down to her slightly protruding stomach as her smile widened. “Wait a sec, are you pregnant?!”

“Mm-hmm, I’m almost three months along.”

“Oh wow, congratulations!”

The sound of a throat awkwardly clearing cut through their excited celebration, and they both looked over at the Mandalorian and the High Magistrate; Din’s gloved knuckles were planted on his waist and his helmeted head was tilted to the side in confusion while Greef’s brows were raised expectantly as he studied the pirate. “I, ah, wasn’t aware that you were friendly with pirates, Captain (Y/L/N).”

“Believe me, I’m not, but my old friend here isn’t just any old pirate,” (Y/N) chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. “Meet Captain Biala Sage, the daughter of Vana Sage and a loyal member of the Lok Revenants; they’re pirates, yes, but they only target their attacks on spicerunners, enslavers, Imps and even other pirating clans. Not many people know this, but they even spent the entirety of the Rebellion smuggling weaponry to resistance groups across the galaxy.”

Greef, looking visibly more relaxed, extended his hand out for Biala to shake. “The Lok Revenants, of course; your organization’s reputation precedes you, Captain Sage. Allow me to reintroduce myself: I am Greef Karga, the High Magistrate of the independent world of Nevarro.”

Taking a step forward, Din shook Biala’s hand next and placed his gloved hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back. “Din Djarin. I’m (Y/N)’s husband.”

“You married a Mandalorian? You always did have pretty good taste, kid.” With an impressed whistle, the older woman winked at (Y/N) and gave both men a cordial smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, and I’m real sorry for all the fuss earlier; if I’d known that your peaceful little planet was so skittish around pirates, I would’ve forgone surprising (Y/N) and sent word ahead that we’d be stopping by.”

Greef’s smile tightened and (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from wincing at her old friend’s blasé words; Biala had no way of knowing that Nevarro had very nearly been conquered by pirates only a couple of months before, and it didn’t take a genius to see that the planet’s High Magistrate had taken offense to her comment. “A friend of Captain (Y/L/N) is a friend of mine. However, I must ask that your crew leave their weapons on-board your ship for the duration of your visit; after years spent fighting to achieve it, we value our peace and security here on Nevarro.”

“Of course, High Magistrate. My crew will have no problem following your city’s rules.”

“Excellent! I’ll inform our people that there is nothing to worry about, and then I’ll accompany IG-11 to the docking bay to formally greet our new guests.” Greef adjusted his robe to cover the blaster holstered at his side and inclined his head towards Biala. “I hope that you enjoy your visit to our city and to our lovely captain’s seamstress shop, Captain Sage; mark my words, in a few weeks’ time it’ll surely be the highlight of the Hydian Way!”

They watched the High Magistrate cross the courtyard to City Hall to record an official hologram message that would be broadcast across the city, and Biala awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck with her prosthetic hand. “I guess ‘skittish’ was a massive understatement. Nevarro’s had dealings with pirates?”

“This place was a real skug-hole before Karga left the bounty hunting trade and cleaned it up,” Din replied, resting his hands on his belt and shrugging his armored shoulders. “Pirates, bounty hunters, assassins, Imperial remnants…you name ‘em, Nevarro had ‘em.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement and moved to wrap her arm around her husband’s. “Nevarro was invaded by Gorian Shard and his gang a few months back, and it took partnering with Din’s Mandalorian covert to liberate the planet from their control.”

“Wow…” The pirate captain shook her head in amazement. “The last time we saw one another, you were one of the best smugglers in the Mid-Rim. Just ten years later, you’ve got yourself your seamstress shop and a husband and-”

Just then, Grogu hopped down from the tree branches overhead and into the stunned woman’s arms, causing (Y/N) to burst into giggles and even drawing a chuckle out of the still-wary Mandalorian. “This mischievous little guy is our adoptive son, Grogu. Grogu, this is Biala, an old friend of mine.” The child beamed and waved his clawed hand at Biala; her old friend’s orchid-colored eyes widened in shock and flicked up to meet hers, her gaze expressing all of the questions that were swirling around within her. Giving Din’s arm a reassuring squeeze, (Y/N) pulled away from him and offered Biala her hand. “C’mon, D.D., I’ll tell you all about it on the way to my shop…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the many things (Y/N) admired about the people of Nevarro was their inherently welcoming nature. Although rightfully apprehensive of the visiting faction of the Lok Revenants, a brief hologram message from the High Magistrate led to the city’s residents warmly embracing Captain Sage and her unarmed crew. Biala, to her credit, did her utmost to present herself as harmless and non-threatening as she possibly could; on the way to House of (Y/L/N), she bought a large cup of caf from a street vendor and chatted about her G1-M4-C Dunelizard docked outside the city’s gate with several interested patrons, her friendly nature and infectious laugh easily winning over everyone she interacted with.

To satisfy Biala’s curiosity, (Y/N) gave her a short run-down on the past ten years of her life on their walk to her seamstress shop; the pirate captain was pleased to hear that she’d joined the Rebellion and utilized her smuggling skills to save civilians and although she’d briefly explained how she’d come to be married to a Mandalorian warrior, her old friend made her promise to tell her more over dinner at the local cantina later that evening. I can’t exactly blame her, (Y/N) thought as she stole an admiring glance at Din walking beside her, even I can’t quite believe that I’m married to the kindest and most courageous man in the entire galaxy. Biala, much like the majority of those who’d gotten to meet Grogu on their many adventures, was instantly taken in by the child as they told her how he’d wound up in their care and in turn, he refused to leave his new friend’s arms and even dazzled her with some of his favorite Force-tricks.

When they eventually made their way to House of (Y/L/N) and stepped through the doorway, (Y/N) gave the group of pirates a tour of the shop’s many offerings and answered all of their questions regarding her designs; she felt a surge of pride as she watched her awestruck old friend appreciate the shop she’d spent her entire life working for, her eyes expectantly prickling with tears when she recalled a long-forgotten memory of her time with the Lok Revenants.

“A seamstress shop, huh?” Biala’s orchid-colored eyes widened with interest. To ease the boredom of hyperspace, the teenager offered to teach (Y/N) how to assemble and clean a blaster, dutifully observing her progress and offering pointers; she’d even managed to get the uncertain twelve-year old to open up a little, her extroverted nature easing her trepidation and helping her lower her guard little by little. “That’s a new one.”

(Y/N) looked up from her half-assembled blaster rifle and frowned in confusion. “A new one?”

“Well, yeah. Being a pirate all my life, I’ve heard countless people’s grand plans for their lives after the Empire runs its course and they give up their pirating ways,” The teenager explained and shrugged her shoulders. “They all usually involve wasting their credits on Canto Bight’s sabacc tables and Fathier races and drowning their sorrows in Tarisian ale. Your grand plan’s very different from what I usually hear, that’s all.”

“Oh…”

“That’s definitely not a bad thing, kid.” Biala nudged her shoulder with her own and (Y/N) felt herself relax at her gentle reassurance. “The galaxy could use some more beauty and creativity. Any idea where you’d wanna set up shop?”

Pondering the teenager’s question, (Y/N) continued to assemble the blaster rifle as she replied, “I don’t really know…somewhere that’s far away from the Empire, I guess. But it doesn’t really matter where; everyone needs clothes and wherever you go, there’s people who’ll appreciate the artistry and craftsmanship that’ll go into them.”

The young pirate nodded in understanding and after a brief moment of comfortable silence, she stood and leaned her hip against the table littered with loose blaster parts, causing (Y/N) to look up from her handiwork and arch a curious brow. “I may not be the most fashionable person in the galaxy, but I’ll tell you what, when you get this shop of yours up and running I’ll stop by and check it out.”

“That’s very nice of you, D.D., but how the kriff will you know where it’ll be or when it’ll even open-?”

“I’m a pirate, kid; it’s kind of my job to know what’s happening out there.” Biala chuckled. “Besides, how many Naboo seamstresses do you know that’ll set up shop on a planet that’s not Naboo?”

That made (Y/N) giggle. “Not many.”

“You see? It’ll be as easy as Corellian Ryshcate!” Chuckling, the teenager held out her grease-stained hand for her to shake. “I promise I’ll be there, and you should know that a Sage never turns her back on a promise. So, whaddaya say we shake on it?” A grin slowly spread across (Y/N)’s face and she shook the young pirate’s hand; Biala returned her smile with one of her own before jutting her chin towards the half-assembled blaster rifle. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get back to work; if you’re gonna succeed as a smuggler, then we’ve gotta make sure you know your way around blasters…”

After blinking away her unexpected tears, (Y/N) took a steadying breath and went about tidying up behind one of the counters, allowing her guests and the citizens of Nevarro to browse the shop’s inventory; it was there that her husband eventually found her, down on one knee and craning her neck to view her half-finished task.

“Need any help, alor’ad?”

(Y/N) glanced away from her handiwork as Din knelt beside her and gave him a brief smile. “Now that you mention it, I left my screwdriver on the counter behind you and if I let go of this to grab it, I’ll never get the kriffing thing aligned again.” He reached up and grabbed the tool off the counter, flipping it around with ease before offering its handle to her. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

While she set about screwing the Shaak-skin sheath to the underside of the counter, Din nodded in appreciation at her off-the-cuff invention. “Concealed blaster mount. That’ll come in handy if any unfriendly pirates decide to pay you a visit.”

“Anything to make my employees feel a little safer,” (Y/N) replied, tightening the final screw into the wood and slipping a blaster into its brand-new mount. “Apparently, Vorelin and Nida had a hell of a time calming Pyesca, Aca and Taterna down before Greef’s holo-message went out.” Din stood and helped her to her feet, a sudden wave of dizziness washing over her and forcing her squeeze her eyes closed. “Dank farrik, our little one didn’t seem to like that at all.”

“Take a deep breath in and slowly let it out.” Her husband’s modulated voice was steady and composed as he allowed her to grasp his gloved hand. The dizzy spells were nothing new to them; she’d been suffering with them for just over a month and the med droids assured them that they were perfectly normal in a pregnancy’s first trimester, but that didn’t stop her from loathing them with her entire being. “You’re doing great, alor’ad, just keep breathing. Why don’t you tell me more about Biala, maybe how you two met? There’s gotta be an interesting story there.”

Grateful for any distraction from her dizziness, (Y/N) released another breath and opened her eyes to focus on the visor of Din’s beskar helmet. “The Lok Revenants were the ones who helped me leave Naboo after my mother’s death; they have a long history of helping Naboo and its people out, one that stretches as far back as the Trade Federation’s failed invasion, and they made it their mission to help the most vulnerable get off-world and away from the Empire. Right before she died, my mother contacted the Lok Revenants and arranged for my safe passage to the Car’das smugglers, so I ended up spending a couple of months onboard Vana Sage’s Guardian Mantis.”

“I still don’t understand how a Naboo seamstress became acquainted with pirates and smugglers in the first place…”

She shrugged her shoulders indifferently. “No one’s ever told me, so I just chalked it up to a chance meeting in one of Theed’s marketplaces and left it at that.”

A peal of laughter from across the crowded shop drew their attention, and they looked over to see Biala and one of her crewmates trying on various hats in front of the floor-length mirror while Grogu, perched atop R5-D4’s head, looked on with interest. (Y/N) smiled to herself, pleased to see her old friend having fun and enjoying her shop, and Din leaned back against the counter before inquiring, “What’s D.D. stand for?”

“Double-Dealer,” (Y/N) chuckled as she leaned against the counter beside him. “Biala was the one who taught me how to play Dejarik but as it turns out, she’s one hell of a cheat. Rumor has it that that’s how she got her hands on a Class IV Imperial freighter; the weapons that were being transported on that freighter wound up winning us the Battle of the Carosi System.”

Din hummed in interest, his gaze momentarily lingering on the pirates across the shop before looking over at her. “It’s nice that she came all the way out here after only hearing a rumor while traveling the Hydian Way. Although, I guess there aren’t too many Naboo seamstresses opening up shops on planets that aren’t Naboo.” She smirked at his familiar observation and wordlessly shook her head, her shoulders finally relaxing as her dizzy spell faded away into nothing. “You know, I meant every word of what I said earlier today.” When she tipped her head to the side in confusion, her husband tightened his hand around hers while gesturing to the many happy customers that filled her shop. “You deserve all of this and more, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

Looking out at the scene before them, (Y/N) found herself reflecting on the future she’d naively mapped out for herself as a child: she would diligently study her mother’s profession and after becoming a talented seamstress worthy of her people’s high standards, they would open their own seamstress shop in Theed, the planet’s renowned capitol city, and once her career was off to a promising start, she would marry an accomplished artist or musician and start a family of her own. It was, however, a future that was never meant to be; the Empire seized total control of Naboo just as her mother succumbed to illness, forcing her to flee her home and start a new life as a smuggler.

But as she watched the citizens of Nevarro excitedly browse her wares, she realized that she’d achieved her dream after all, albeit in a much more unconventional, roundabout sort of way. I never had a chance to complete an apprenticeship but I’m a self-taught seamstress, (Y/N) thought to herself as she glanced down at the years’ worth of callouses and scars that littered her hands, I couldn’t open House of (Y/L/N) on Naboo but I opened it on a planet that’s just as peaceful and resilient. Din was clearly not an artist or a musician but he was an accomplished Mandalorian warrior, and Grogu and the new baby would perfectly round out their small but happy family. Because she was a rather shy child, she’d never anticipated having more than one or two friends once she reached adulthood, so it warmed her heart to know that she’d been wrong in that regard; the influence of the new friends she’d met on her many adventures alongside Din and Grogu could be seen all throughout her shop – through Bo-Katan’s gifts of green glass from Mandalore’s surface crafted into a stunning chandelier by the Armorer and a set of beskar sewing needles, Boba Fett’s gifts of sewing machines and bolts of fabric from Jabba the Hutt’s treasury and the statue of the Naboo goddess Shiraya personally commissioned by Greef Karga – and against all odds, one of her oldest friends in the galaxy kept her promise to be there for the grand opening.

It was clear that while the particulars of her childhood dream had changed, the foundation of what she’d imagined were on full display before (Y/N)’s eyes, and the realization brought a smile to (Y/N)’s lips as she took everything in. Biala, who was conversing with the now-flirtatious Greef across the packed shop and sharing a piece of five-blossom bread with Grogu, glanced over at (Y/N) and after they shared a meaningful look, the pirate captain flashed her a smile and a wink before turning back to the High Magistrate. With an inward chuckle, a beaming (Y/N) met Din’s covered gaze and nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Eight

The Names

As (Y/N) entered the third trimester of her pregnancy, Clan Mudhorn continued to diligently prepare for the arrival of its eagerly-anticipated fourth member. Din and (Y/N) converted their cabin’s spare bedroom into a nursery and while (Y/N) spent her free time away from House of (Y/L/N) sewing baby clothes, Din completed as many bounty hunting jobs as he could before the captain’s due date, the extra credits ensuring that their son or daughter would have every comfort imaginable. They attended every birthing and parenting class at the medical clinic, downloaded and read dozens of books on the subject of childbirth on their holo-pad, and brainstormed their intricate birthing plan. Even Grogu participated in their preparations, much to Din and (Y/N)’s amusement and occasional exasperation; at least twice a week, one of them would find an irate frog in the baby’s nursery that the child captured as a welcome gift for his brother or sister. They were undoubtedly ready for their little one’s arrival…well, except for one very, very important decision.

“What about Kalerth?”

Din wrinkled his nose in distaste, continuing to rub slow circles over (Y/N)’s protruding stomach and watch the sun slowly rising outside their bedroom window. “Nope. How ‘bout Ronhys?”

“No, I knew a Ronhys once and he was a kriffing idiot. What about Syril?”

“C’mon, alor’ad, that’ll make our kid sound like some sort of half-wit pencil-pushing Imperial analyst.”

(Y/N) snorted in amusement and Din smirked against her collarbone as she playfully smacked his arm and threaded her fingers back into his rumpled hair. “Mir’sheb. We’re getting absolutely nowhere with the boy names, so why don’t we throw in the towel and move on to the girl names for now?”

With a tired yawn, Din pressed a chaste kiss onto the exposed skin of his wife’s clavicle and nodded. “Good idea. How’s Daya sound? It’s an old-fashioned Mandalorian name, but Bo-Katan mentioned that it’s back in fashion.”

“…I don’t hate it, but I don’t exactly love it either. How does Amilyn sound?”

“Okay, I guess, but I think we can do better. Galleia, maybe?”

“It’s pretty, but I’ll have to think that one over. What do you think of…hmm, I don’t know…Xi’an-?”

“Absolutely not.”

The captain chuckled. “That was suspiciously quick. What, did you have a fling with a Xi’an before you met me and I made an honest man out of you?” He pursed his lips but remained silent, which only made her gasp in exaggerated shock. “You did, didn’t you?”

“If by ‘fling’ you mean we slept together once during a job, she tried to kill me and years later, she tried to kill me again then yes, we had a fling.” Rolling his eyes, Din lifted his head to give (Y/N) an amused smile. “Would you really wanna name our child after one of your former flings, alor’ad?”

A look of revulsion twisted at her beautiful features. “Urgh, I see what you mean. Besides, Jod and Han are awful names for a baby, even without the unpleasant added context of a failed relationship.”

“Y’know, those names sound awfully familiar-”

“C’mon Din, focus! If you keep distracting me, then our baby’ll never have a name.” (Y/N) lightly scolded, but the glimmer in her eyes and the curved corners of her mouth coupled with the hand she’d brought up to cradle his cheek. “And don’t you go thinking that those big, brown eyes of yours will get you out of trouble.”

Din’s brows rose in mock outrage. “Wait, I’m distracting you?”

“Taking responsibility for your actions, that’s very mature of you.” The bedroom filled with the captain’s giggles as his fingers dug into her ticklish sides and her attempts to squirm away from his onslaught were unsuccessful. “Okay, okay, okay, truce!” She cried out, shooting him a withering glare as she worked on catching her breath. “You’d better watch your back, Din Djarin, ‘cause the moment this baby’s born my revenge will be swift and merciless.”

“Mmm, I’m looking forward to it.” Din flashed her a brazen grin and ducked down to press his lips against hers in a searing kiss. Before he could, however, his wife’s rumbling stomach brought him to a sudden halt and caused them both to burst into surprised laughter. “Hungry, alor’ad?”

“I wasn’t, but it would seem that your child has other plans,” (Y/N) grumbled, but a loving smile softened her features as she glanced down at her protruding stomach and ran a tender hand over its curve. “With all this food I’ve been eating lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if this little one grows up to be quite the formidable warrior, just like their dad.”

Din smiled as his hand moved to join the captain’s, secretly reveling in the feeling of their child’s movements beneath his palm. “Maybe, or maybe he or she will follow in their mom’s footsteps and become one hell of a pilot. Either way…” He gave her lips a quick peck before getting out of bed and offering her his hand. “It’s breakfast time. Pickled meiloorun fruit and blue milk again?”

The captain sheepishly smiled while he helped her out of bed. “I know that it’s a gross combination, but it’s the only thing that sounds even remotely appetizing these days.”

“Whatever makes you and the baby happy, alor’ad, but I think I’m gonna fix me and Grogu something a little less…unique.”

“Oh please, the little guy catches and eats frogs on a regular basis and before you met me, you survived solely off of expired ration portions.”

The pair of them went about getting dressed and ready for the day, and (Y/N)’s grumpiness was exasperated by her inability to lace up her own boots and their unborn child’s newfound fondness of kicking at her ribs. While Din knelt before her and made quick work of her laces, her stifled winces of pain caused his heart to clench in sympathy as a familiar wave of guilt washed over him. From the moment they first became partners, he vowed to protect the captain from any and all dangers they might encounter on their adventures and keep her safe; it was only natural, then, that he would feel like a failure while he was forced to watch his wife struggle under the plethora of pregnancy symptoms, symptoms that only seemed to multiply as the months went on. She’s the strongest person I know but that doesn’t make it right that she must endure this pain without complaint, he thought to himself, his heart lurching again when a pained gasp escaped her clenched teeth. In tuned to his inner turmoil, the captain carded her fingers through his hair while he tied her laces and pressed a gratitude-filled kiss onto his forehead the moment he finished, and he soon felt his scowl beginning to soften into a smile once again.

Breakfast in the Djarin-(Y/L/N) household wasn’t always a peaceful affair; there were Grogu’s occasional temper-tantrums, emergency holo-calls from Carson Teva, unannounced visits from Greef Karga and (Y/N)’s sudden bouts of severe nausea triggered by whatever Din was cooking, so whenever a quiet morning came around they were always sure to savor it while it lasted. While Din prepared their breakfast, (Y/N) and Grogu sat together at the kitchen table and the child was enraptured by his mother’s tale of flying amongst a pod of migrating purrgils, his wide eyes filled with wonderment as she animatedly described the creatures that few were lucky to ever see in their lifetimes. Din, listening to the conclusion of his wife’s story and his son’s coos of excitement with a content smile on his face, plated their food and carried it over to where his family sat, placing a plate of fruit in front of (Y/N) and a kiss onto her cheek and patting the top of Grogu’s wrinkled head before setting his breakfast down before him.

“Hey, little guy, would you like to help your Dad and me out with something?” (Y/N) asked after taking a sip of her blue milk, her smile widening when Grogu looked up from his Ronto wrap and eagerly nodded. “We’ve been trying to think of the perfect name for your little brother or sister, but we’ve been having a little trouble. Maybe you’ve got an idea or two?”

The child’s brow furrowed in careful concentration and a moment later, he grinned and pointed a clawed finger at (Y/N). “Patu.”

Din tilted his head to the side. “You wanna name the baby after your mom?” His confusion grew when he impatiently shook his head; his eyes flicked over to the captain, and his brow rose when he spotted the blood-red flower embroidered onto her blouse. “Wait, the flower?”

Grogu squealed in triumph and (Y/N) brought a hand up to trace the embroidery, a thoughtful expression gracing her features. “It’s a millaflower. They’re native to Naboo and signify great respect when gifted to someone; its extract is prescribed by many homeopathic physicians as medicine, but it can also be crafted into a potent poison.”

“Beautiful but deadly…” Din mused as he studied the embroidered flower; it’s a description befitting the daughter of a Mandalorian and a retired Rebellion smuggler, he thought with a growing smile, looking over at his wife over the brim of his morning caf. “How does Milla sound, if it’s a girl?”

(Y/N)’s hand absentmindedly rubbed along her baby bump as she quietly tried out the name, and she looked back up at him with a softened smile. “I think…that we’ve finally found the perfect girl’s name.”

With a grin, Din reached across the table to affectionately rub one of Grogu’s large ears. “Good call, kid. Got any ideas for a boy’s name?”

After a moment of consideration, Grogu shook his head and (Y/N) chuckled. “That’s okay, little guy, one out of two ain’t bad.” She ate another spoonful of pickled meiloorun and was reaching for her glass of blue milk when her eyes lit up with realization. “Since Milla’s inspired by my Naboo culture, why don’t we try and come up with a boy’s name that’s inspired by Aq Vetina?”

Din, taken aback by the captain’s thoughtfulness and the mention of his homeworld’s name, attempted to hide his surprise behind a look of deliberation as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “We can try, but I was just a child when I was taken in by the Death Watch, there’s not much that I remember about Aq Vetina’s culture…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I should’ve thought-”

“It’s okay, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I still think it’s a good idea,” He quickly reassured her, reaching over to rest his hand on top of hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We just might have to work a little harder to jog my memory, that’s all.”

“All right, then, let’s start with something easy like…” (Y/N) trailed off, lost in thought for a moment before snapping her fingers in realization. “Constellations! Do you remember if Aq Vetina had any notable constellations?”

Din set his Ronto wrap down onto his plate and nodded. “I remember learning about them in school and…” A lump formed in his throat as a long-forgotten memory sprang to his mind and he took a steadying breath. “My parents taught me. In the summer, we’d spend nights stargazing from our back garden; my father would point each of them out to me and my mother would tell me all the stories behind them.”

With an understanding smile, the captain twisted her hand around to thread their fingers together and he threw her a grateful look. He’d learned long ago not to dwell on his life before the Mandalorians but after officially becoming Grogu’s adoptive father and learning of (Y/N)’s pregnancy, he couldn’t help but look back on his childhood on Aq Vetina and mourn what could never be; his parents would never see him grow up, never meet the woman who captured his heart and never know their grandchildren, but what pained him the most was that they would never live to see peace return to the galaxy. Maybe they already know, he thought as he reflected on the afterlife that (Y/N) and the Naboo believed in, I hope they can look upon me and are proud of the man I’ve become.

“That sounds very peaceful. Can you remember any of their names, or maybe one of your favorites?”

Din’s lips slowly curved upwards into a smile. “My favorite was Samidar. He was a Merquaal and according to the legends, he was an old warrior’s trusted companion, more brave and discerning than even the warrior; they embarked on many adventures together and when Samidar died protecting the old warrior in battle, the Maker was touched by his outpouring of grief and to commemorate the beloved companion, he created a constellation out of the brightest stars in the night sky. It’s silly, I know, but I remember really enjoying that one.”

His wife raised their joined hands to kiss his scarred knuckles and looked at him with adoring eyes. “What do you think of Sami, if it’s a boy?”

“I-It’s perfect, alor’ad. Milla, Sami…both names are absolutely perfect.” Sliding out of his chair, Din sank to his knees and rested his forehead against the captain’s protruding belly, his tear-filled eyes fluttering closed and his smile widening as he felt the moments of their unborn child. “Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner ad’ika.”

“Your dad and I can’t wait to finally meet you,” (Y/N) cooed softly and rubbed her free hand along the chiffon covering her belly, and he could hear the raw emotion in her voice. Now that they’d finally found the perfect names for their baby boy or girl, it was as if the reality of their situation had finally settled in; in about three months’ time, they’d be holding their child in their arms, the living and tangible proof of their endless love for one another, and Clan Mudhorn’s trio would become a quartet.

Grogu, seemingly feeling left out of their tearful conversation, leapt over the table and onto Din’s shoulder with a disgruntled huff, and Din couldn’t help but chuckle and exchange a look with the captain. “Yeah, it’s safe to say that your brother’s even more excited than we are.”

The child nodded and babbled as he stretched a clawed hand out to press against (Y/N)’s stomach, and she let go of Din’s hand to smooth her fingers over their son’s wrinkled head. “Three more months to go, little guy.”

With a content sigh, Din closed his eyes and concentrated on the movements of their unborn son or daughter, diligently committing the sweet moment to memory as his heart swelled with happiness. “Three more months to go.”

Thanks to the childbirth classes they’d attended and all the parenting books they’d read, all three of them understood that (Y/N)’s third trimester would certainly be no slice of Uj’alayi but they also knew that as long as they were together, there was nothing in the galaxy that they couldn’t handle. You’re gonna fit right in with the three of us, ad’ika, and we’re gonna love you with everything we’ve got and then some, Din silently told his unborn child, his smile widening and his eyes brimming with fresh tears when they seemingly replied with the gentlest nudge against his cheek.

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Nine

The Nightmare

Throughout the progression of her pregnancy, (Y/N) dreaded the day she would be forced to start her maternity leave and temporarily entrust her seamstress shop to her loyal assistants. House of (Y/L/N) was not only the physical manifestation of the dream she’d worked towards all her life, but it was the one place on Nevarro where she felt the most connected to her mother and to her culture; the scent of oppim incense filled the air, reminding (Y/N) of the cottage she’d grown up in, while blossoming jussa roots framed the shop’s doorway and the afternoon sun shone through the storefront’s window to illuminate the statue of the winged goddess Shiraya. So, to ensure that she retained the serenity she’d derived from her seamstress shop throughout her final months of pregnancy, her family and friends made it their personal mission to bring more aspects of her beloved homeworld to their little house on the lava flats.

With Greef Karga’s assistance, Din had millaflower and timseng seeds imported from Naboo and carved her a set of wooden planter boxes, helping her plant the tiny seeds and keeping a strict watering schedule to ensure that they’d be blossoming during her maternity leave. Biala Sage’s gift of an authentic Theed stained glass mosaic was carefully hung in the living room’s window by Grogu, while a hand-woven blanket patterned after traditional Naboo brychans from Bo-Katan and Din’s Mandalorian covert was neatly folded across the back of their couch. When (Y/N) entered the eighth month of her pregnancy and the time finally came for her to take a step back from House of (Y/L/N), she was able to adapt to her more sedentary day-to-day without any added stress; she spent her days designing and sewing baby clothes, testing out various baby-friendly recipes in their little kitchen, and most importantly, getting plenty of rest.

It wasn’t until a week into her self-imposed maternity leave that (Y/N) started worrying over Din’s increasingly strange behavior. Whenever the baby’s restless movements forced her to change sleeping positions or visit the ‘fresher in the middle of the night, her husband would already be lying awake beside her or was absent from their bed altogether; in those instances, he claimed that it was lingering back pain before quickly changing the subject. He regularly took naps throughout the day, carefully taken to coincide with her sewing sessions; at first, she chalked it up to the lack of sleep brought on by his back pain but after studying his routine, she realized that they were carefully timed twenty-minute-long naps, a trick utilized by pilots to get just enough rest without having to sleep for hours on end.

But out of all of Din’s troubling behaviors, the most concerning one by far was his silence. When they’d first met, he was a man of few words but (Y/N) had been persistent, helping the bounty hunter open himself up around her and subsequently falling in love with the gruff warmth of his modulated voice; throughout their partnership and even after their wedding, there were still moments of silence, but there was never a time where she felt unseen by him. Lately, however, it was as though Din’s mind was a million parsecs away, his dark brown eyes staring blankly ahead until (Y/N) or Grogu did or said something to snap him out of his trance. She’d tried to gently coax him into talking to her but when that hadn’t worked, she decided that desperate times called for desperate measures and she immediately began working on enacting her plan of attack, one that employed an old family trick passed down for generations from mother to daughter; she hadn’t utilized it in quite a while, not since her smuggling days, but her concern for Din was well-worth dusting off the tried-and-true method of subtle interrogation and giving it a shot. She waited until Din returned home from dropping Grogu off at school, taking advantage of their child’s absence to finally spring her trap on her unsuspecting Mandalorian.

“Your hair’s getting long again, sweetheart,” (Y/N) remarked, sidling up to where her husband sat at the kitchen counter and running her fingers through his thick brown curls. “Pretty soon, you’re gonna start looking like a Wookie.”

Din, who’d been staring blankly down at the half-assembled blaster he was cleaning, glanced up and flashed her a faint smile. “A Wookie, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, a very handsome Wookie but a Wookie all the same.” Giggling, she gently coaxed his chin up and pressed her lips to his; their kiss was brief but full of warmth, as neither of them could stop smiling long enough to draw it out, and the Mandalorian’s eyes were alight with happiness when she pulled away. “My grandmother was a hairdresser, you know. My mother told me she worked in a salon in Theed and that she was renowned throughout the capital for her natural talent; she was even invited to the palace once to personally style Queen Ekay’s headdresses.”

Her husband hummed in interest and tossed his soiled rag aside to hold her free hand between his own, a knowing smile forming on his lips while he carefully studied her. “Is this your way of saying that you’d like to cut my hair for me?” She shrugged noncommittally and fought back her own grin as he turned her hand over and pressed a kiss onto her calloused palm. “These are the hands of a seamstress, alor’ad, not a hairdresser.”

“Just because they’re two different kinds of scissors doesn’t mean I can’t wield them both with expert precision.” (Y/N)’s chuckles subsided at the sight of Din’s confused frown. “Sweetheart, you haven’t been using my fabric scissors on things other than fabric, have you?”

Instead of answering, Din awkwardly cleared his throat and flashed her a sheepish grin that did nothing to alleviate her suspicions. “Of course you can cut my hair, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, anything for you!”

The Mandalorian pressed a fleeting kiss onto her forehead before slipping out of his seat and practically sprinting away; despite the implied misuse of her expensive fabric scissors and the weight of her plan weighing on her shoulders, she couldn’t help but revel at her ability to strike fear into the heart of one of the galaxy’s most formidable warriors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) would quickly learn, however, that sticking to her plan would be much harder than she’d originally anticipated. After ordering Din to take his shirt off, the sight of his toned muscles rippling as he removed the garment she’d personally sewn for him and the care he took in folding it caused her hormone-riddled brain to shut down and made her acutely aware of her hyperactive libido; it took every ounce of her willpower not to leap into his arms and forgo her scheme in favor of more pleasurable activities, but the roguishness behind his smirk as he sat on the stool she’d placed in front of the sink nearly made her resolve crumble into nothing.

“L-Lean your head back,” (Y/N) commanded, her no-nonsense tone faltering for a moment but quickly composing herself while he did as she said. “Comfortable?”

Din warily eyed the pitcher of warm water she brandished. “You’re not planning on water-boarding me, are you?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart; I’m just gonna get your hair wet before I give it a good wash.” (Y/N) placed a hand against his forehead to shield his face and slowly poured the water over his thick curls. “For the sake of my poor fabric scissors, I should, but Grandmother Vallé wouldn’t approve of such violence taking place in the middle of a styling.”

“She sounds like a respectable lady.”

“Oh, very respectable.” Setting the pitcher down, she reached for the crystal decanter and poured a liberal amount of shampoo into the palm of her hand. “If she hadn’t passed away before I was born, seeing her only granddaughter become a smuggler and join the Rebel Alliance would’ve definitely done her in.”

She could feel the soft brush of the Mandalorian’s lips pressing against her forearm as she worked up a lather in his hair. “Well, I for one think you’re a respectable lady.”

“You do, do you? You sure you’re not just trying to make me forget about avenging my fabric scissors?”

“Can’t I multitask?”

(Y/N) laughed. “Your bravery in the face of danger never ceases to amaze me, ner cyar’ika riduur.”

To her confusion, Din’s eyes flashed with an unknown emotion and he forced himself to smile as he looked away. “You’re too kind, alor’ad.”

They lapsed into a stilted silence while (Y/N) gently washed Din’s hair and rinsed it with care, the scent of Chandrilan muja fruit filling the kitchen but neither of them seemed able to take comfort in its pleasant aroma. Back when they were still partners working together to return his foundling to his people, she would’ve taken his behavior as a sign to drop the issue and focus on their mission but after all they’d been through together, she knew that it wasn’t easy for him to show vulnerability around others, especially his loved ones; his ever-shifting mood that morning had only served to encourage her to continue with her plan, believing in her heart that all he needed was a moment of peace to finally unburden himself.

While (Y/N) rinsed the last of the suds from Din’s curls, she started to sing one of Naboo’s wordless songs under her breath. The song was intended to evoke the planet’s harvest season; the warm rays of sunlight streaming through the leafy branches of the trees, the scent of fresh dirt mingling with the sweetness of ripened fruits, rainbows of produce spilling out of the farmers’ stalls all throughout the marketplaces…it was not only a time of abundance but for gratitude and reflection as well, and it was why the Naboo revered the season above all others. The longer she sang the more relaxed Din became, the tension leaving his shoulders and the lines on his forehead smoothing out as his eyes drifted closed and he nearly purred like a loth-cat under her ministrations.

“I guess it’s true what they say about smugglers being talented with their hands, alor’ad.”

(Y/N) smirked at the reference to their familiar banter and continued towel-drying Din’s sopping locks. “A truth you’ve known for quite a while, ner etyc beroya.”

Her husband’s face flushed pink at her flawlessly pronounced innuendo and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his lips from curving upwards or his hands moving to rest comfortably on her hips. “I think I’m starting to regret gifting you that Mando’a dictionary for Life Day; you take great pleasure in tormenting me at the most inconvenient times.”

“Yeah, I can be a little cruel sometimes, can’t I?”

“You can,” Din agreed, his voice slightly muffled by the towel as she wrung-out the last of the water. “But I never said I didn’t like it.”

(Y/N) was forced to take a steadying breath and silently listed off every single class of starfighter she’d ever flown while she readied her haircutting tools, all for the sake of maintaining her composure and keeping to her original plan. I suppose this is what my mother meant when she said the trick can sometimes backfire, she thought as she directed Din to move his stool to the center of the kitchen floor, her eyes diligently trained on the pair of scissors and comb in her hands instead of the Mandalorian’s impressive physique. Thankfully, the task of cutting Din’s hair into a decent-looking style required concentration, and the kitchen was soon filled with the snipping sound of her scissors and the occasional thoughtful hum she let out as she surveyed her progress.

After trimming the front of Din’s hair and using his razor to even out his sideburns, (Y/N) moved to stand behind him and fluffed up the back of his hair by carding her fingers through his drying locks, smiling to herself when the gentle scrape of her fingernails against his scalp drew a satisfied hum out of her husband. Their little cabin was filled with such peaceful tranquility, and it was in that moment that she decided it was time to spring her trap. “Sweetheart, we’re honest with one another, aren’t we?” He hummed in agreement as she combed another curl up to meet her scissors. “I would tell you if there was something bothering me, so don’t you think you ought to tell me if something’s bothering you?” Unsurprised by his silence, (Y/N) continued on speaking undeterred. “It’s just that I’ve noticed you’ve been acting strange all week and I can tell that something’s wrong, but I don’t have a single clue exactly what’s wrong and it’s honestly beginning to worry me a little.” She turned away to fetch a towel from the kitchen counter. “You can talk to me, Din. Just talk to me, and I promise that I’ll listen to-Din!”

(Y/N) dropped everything she was holding and hurried forward to catch Din before he could collapse onto the floor; she yanked on his arm with all her strength, suspending his fall and causing him to give a sudden jerk. “What the-? What happened?” Her husband looked around in confusion and when his gaze finally found hers, his bleary eyes widened. “Are you all right, alor’ad? Is it the baby?”

“You…” (Y/N) gaped wordlessly at Din as she fought to control her jumbled emotions. “Were you just sleeping…while I was cutting your hair?”

Din’s expression dropped and much to her annoyance, he offered her a weak attempt at a smile. “I guess I was. If your talents are anything like your grandmother’s, then I’m sure that many of her clients were lulled to sleep in her salon.”

When he took her hand to kiss her knuckles, she withdrew it from his grasp as if she’d been burned and pressed her palms against her aching lower back, leveling him with an unyielding stare. “You haven’t been sleeping at all.”

“Of course I have, alor’ad-”

“That wasn’t a question, Din. You haven’t been sleeping, and don’t you dare try and suggest to me that twenty-minute long naps count as sleep because they don’t!” (Y/N) exclaimed, and it was in that moment where she lost all control of her worry and fear. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t caught you just now, or if you’d fallen asleep while piloting the land-speeder and crashed out in the lava flats or collapsed in the ‘fresher’s shower?”

Din scrubbed a hand across his face and sighed. “Nothing would’ve happened, (Y/N).”

“Oh, so your skull wouldn’t have cracked against the kitchen floor and you wouldn’t have bled out from a severe head injury, is that what you’re saying? The last time I checked, your skin and bones aren’t made of beskar!”

“Alor’ad…”

“And don’t you ‘alor’ad’ me, Din Djarin!” (Y/N)’s nostrils flared in anger as her temper steadily rose. “I’m your wife but for the past week, it’s felt as though I’ve gone back to being just your partner, unable to see what you keep hidden from the entire galaxy behind your beskar armor. Getting you to have a normal conversation’s been impossible because you’ve spent almost all of your time ignoring me and when you’re not doing that, you’re deflecting and pretending that everything’s okay when it’s clearly not.” Her eyes swam with traitorous tears and she cursed herself for breaking down, but it seemed as though her fluctuating hormones had other ideas; she looked up at the ceiling to hide her hurt and rapidly shook her head. “You’ve done so much for me these past few months, sweetheart, and all I wanted to do was help you for a change because I’ve been scared for you and I…it doesn’t matter now. It’s clear now that you never wanted my help, so I’ll stop prying now.”

(Y/N) turned to leave the kitchen, wanting nothing more than to shut herself away in their bedroom and cry into her pillow, but was stopped by Din’s hand darting out to catch hers. She whirled back around to face him, but her indignant exclamation caught in her throat when she saw that his eyes were brimming with tears. “Please, (Y/N), I…I’m sorry for scaring you. I was only trying to…” He stared down at the floor and was silent for a moment before continuing. “I had a nightmare. One of the worst one’s I’ve ever had.”

In an instant, any resentment she held towards Din vanished and was replaced with a sinking guilt. “Oh. You don’t have to tell-”

“Yes, I do,” Din quietly insisted, and (Y/N) watched him as he summoned the strength to continue. “I told myself that I was keeping it from you to protect you, but I know now that all I was doing was being a coward and only frightening you in the process.” He held her hand between his own, his thumb caressing her knuckles and brushing against her wedding ring with each pass. “We were back on that Imperial light cruiser and Moff Gideon was there, like before, only this time…he’d captured all of you. You and Grogu and our baby. I fought through armies of dark troopers with every single weapon in my arsenal to try and get to you, even my bare hands, but they just kept coming. You were calling out to me – just like you were back on Mandalore – and Grogu and the baby were crying, and Moff Gideon, he…” He took a steadying breath. “He said I’d always fail to protect my clan, that I was too weak, and then the Darksaber ignited and you…the screams are what woke me up.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in horror. “That’s awful…” She breathed, reaching out to brush her fingers along his stubbled cheek and frowning when he refused to meet her eyes. “And you haven’t let yourself sleep long enough to dream since that night.”

Din swallowed thickly and shook his head. “I couldn’t bear to hear those screams again…and I didn’t need Gideon telling me what I already know to be true.”

Blinking away her tears, (Y/N) slipped her knuckle beneath his chin and gently coaxed his face upwards, her heart clenching at the broken look in his red-rimmed brown eyes. “He was wrong, sweetheart. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever known, and I’ve seen you go to hell and back to keep our family safe and come out on top every time. Moff Gideon is dead and gone, and he’ll never be able to threaten any of us ever again.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that before he died, that son of a mud-scuffer kidnapped Grogu and shot you, (Y/N). What’ll happen the next time we’re faced with an enemy like Gideon? What if something happens to…?” The Mandalorian brought a trembling hand up to her protruding stomach and splayed his fingers across the spot where their unborn child rested. “I lay awake thinking about how our ad’ika will be born into the same cruel and unforgiving galaxy that allowed the Empire to reign supreme, the one that took my parents from me, and a fear unlike anything I’ve ever known claws at my heart. Upon my own life, I will protect our son or daughter until my dying breath…but I’m scared that it won’t be enough. That I can never be enough.”

A heavy silence fell over the kitchen as Din’s thumb rubbed small circles onto (Y/N)’s bump and she considered his words; her husband had suffered many losses throughout his life, and it was only logical that he would develop a deep-seated fear of losing his loved ones. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little frightened of what the future might hold for their family and their new baby, but she found comfort in the knowledge that no matter what, Din would always be by her side and they’d weather the storm together. In that moment, it became clear that he’d denied himself any reassurances from her because he hadn’t felt worthy of them, taking everything he’d heard in his nightmare to heart, and she couldn’t let that stand. “I know that it doesn’t look like it, but I’m scared too, Din.” His head shot up in surprise at her honest declaration, and she took the opportunity to cradle his cheek and brush away his fallen tears. “I’ve seen all the darkest parts of the galaxy – the evil, the corruption, the lawlessness – and it frightens me to know that our child will have to contend with them from the moment they’re born. But I’ve seen all the brightest, most noble parts too and those are what give me the strength to believe that our baby will have a brighter future; yes, the galaxy allowed the Empire to rise to power, but it also brought beings from every single planet out there together to stand against the Empire’s tyranny and win.” As she spoke, the tension in Din’s shoulders slowly dissipated and a look of conviction grew in his unwavering gaze; she drew her hand away from his cheek and placed it atop his, holding his hand against her bump and fixing him with a reassuring smile. “You said you’re not enough but you don’t have to be, ner cyar’ika riduur, because you’re not in this alone; you and I will protect our baby together, as a family, and as long as we’re together, there’s nothing we can’t do. And if, Maker forbid, we aren’t enough, we have friends from here to the Core Worlds who’ll gladly take up arms and fight for our little boy or girl, just as they once did for Grogu.”

Din smiled wryly at that. “The Death Watch, the Night Owls, the Lok Revenants, the New Republic Rangers, the Daimyo of Mos Espa, the High Magistrate of Nevarro, the Duchess of Plazir-15, the miners and Tuskens of Freetown…if they were to ever take up arms in our ad’ika’s name, then it’s because of the respect and compassion you’ve shown them all.”

Suddenly feeling bashful, (Y/N) glanced away as her face flushed at her husband’s praise. “Having a Mandalorian warrior for a husband certainly doesn’t hurt.”

“They might appreciate my skills as a warrior, but they revere your diplomatic nature,” Din insisted, and he brought their intertwined hands up to press an adoring kiss onto her knuckles. “As they should. You strive to see the good in others, especially when they themselves can’t see it, and every day I find myself thanking my lucky stars that your kind heart led you to the Razor Crest that day at the docking bay.”

With a fair amount of careful maneuvering, (Y/N) allowed Din to help her sit on his thigh and looped an arm around his neck before tilting his chin up and kissing him; she poured all of her love and devotion into the kiss, a pleased sigh escaping her when Din matched her passion as he returned her kiss, one strong arm holding her steady while his other hand slipped beneath the hem of her day dress to rest on the bare skin of her thigh. When they were finally forced to come up for air, (Y/N) rested her forehead against Din’s and breathed in his scent. “Everything’s gonna be okay, sweetheart…” She smiled as he leaned further into her palm and tenderly brushed his lips against her wrist. “I promise that as long as we’re together, everything’s gonna be okay.”

The Mandalorian, looking more content and reassured than he had all week, returned her smile with one of his own and nodded. “Everything’s gonna be okay,” He repeated with a firm tone, his brown eyes shining with a newfound resoluteness that caused her heart to soar in triumph. “Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

“I love you too, Din.” A wave of shame washed over her and she dropped her gaze before continuing. “And I’m so sorry for overreacting earlier-”

“Please, don’t be,” Din softly but decisively interrupted. “Your hormones are spiking because your body’s working overtime growing our baby, remember? It’s fine. You’re fine.”

(Y/N) kissed him again but pulled away before either of them could deepen it, giggling as her husband’s lips immediately followed after hers. Din huffed in exasperation at her cheap trick, but her laughter did nothing to quell the look of undisguised want burning in his gaze nor stopped his hand from deliberately flexing on her thigh. “Patience, sweetheart. I need to finish cutting your…ah.” She inhaled sharply when he began pressing open-mouth kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat, and she could feel him smirk against her sensitive skin when her fingers automatically slid into his hair to caress his newly-trimmed locks. “I need to finish cutting your hair now.”

“Later,” Din countered, his stubborn growl sending pleasant vibrations across her skin as his lips traveled back upwards to reclaim hers with another passionate kiss.

“Din…” (Y/N) finally broke the kiss to breathe and fix her grinning husband with a stern glare, but soon found herself pausing to kiss him again, unable to tear herself away long enough to finish her scolding in a complete sentence. “If I don’t get rid of this…ridiculous mullet you’re currently sporting…then my grandmother…will haunt me…from…her…grave.”

Panting and appearing as thoroughly disheveled as (Y/N) felt, Din reluctantly pulled away and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Huh?”

(Y/N) chuckled at his dazed expression and ruffled the back of his hair. “You look like a scruffy-headed Corellian spice runner, and we’re not leaving this kitchen until I fix it. Got it?”

“Just so we’re on the same page, ner cyar’ika alor’ad, we’ll be continuing this in the bedroom as soon as you’re finished with my hair, right?”

“No, I was actually thinking of spending my day embroidering onesies and making timseng sachets.”

Din rolled his eyes at her dry sarcasm but he couldn’t quite stop himself from grinning. “Mir’sheb. You really can be a little cruel sometimes.”

“Mm-hmm, and you really do like it.” (Y/N) countered with a smirk, kissing the tip of his nose and slipping out of his lap before he could retaliate with another kiss. “Now, if you’re finished distracting me, ner mesh’la bal nehutyc riduur, it’s time to finish my masterpiece…”

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The moment (Y/N) set her comb and scissors down and declared that she was done, Din was already out of his seat and scooping her up into his arms, her peals of laughter following them out of the kitchen and into their bedroom. Today didn’t go quite the way I’d originally planned, (Y/N) thought to herself as the afternoon breeze ruffled their window valance and her fingers methodically carded through her sleeping husband’s shortened hair, but I’m relieved that he opened up to me about his fear and allowed himself to accept a little comfort. When her fingertips reached the base of his neck, she was forced to bite her lip to keep from giggling when she realized that in her haste to finish the haircut, she’d accidentally given her Mandalorian some horribly uneven layers. That does it, she inwardly sighed as she laid her head on Din’s bare chest and was soothed to sleep by his steady heartbeat, if I ever wanna get anything done around here then he’ll need to wear a shirt at all times.