Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All he felt was tears falling down his face.

All he heard were muffled voices as his ears rang with a high-pitched squeal.

His arms were empty, not holding his blasters, his spear, nor his foundling.

Grogu was gone, reunited with his kind. The man in black robes had just walked out the door that shut behind him.

His quest was completed, but he had lost far too much: his ship, his creed, but deep down, most importantly, he lost the most important being in his life.

The muffled voices became suddenly clearer and far too loud for someone who just got their shebs (ass) rocked by a dark trooper droid not long ago.

"DUNE, GET OFF ME RIGHT NOW!" he hears Bo-Katan yell, her voice strained.

Din quickly scans the ground for his helmet, finds it, and picks it up. Lifting it over his head once more, not shocked at the overwhelming sense of relief that the sound of pressurization it makes.

Turning back to the crowd, Cara is wrestling Bo-Katan, who seems to be staring daggers at Din through her visor, but cannot overpower the blaster shot bruises behind the beskar Gideon shot and the massive woman who seems to be pure muscle holding her back. Bo-Katan's helmet shifts from looking at Din to Gideon's unconscious body lying on the floor.

"He deserves to die; if I can't have the darksaber, I will have his head," Bo-Katan yells. The nite owl, whose name is Koska Reeves, is looking only at Gideon, hands hovering over her blasters, but freezes when she notices Din's movement.

Din's sadness has dissipated; anger, while less than in the detention center, replaces it. "ENOUGH!" he yells, his voice still strained from crying, gaining everyone's full attention. Din walks between the crowd and Gideon. "He was part of the deal for Cara, and this sword was the deal for you" he says as he detaches the darksaber off his belt and holds it out towards Bo-Katan. "Take it; you may renegotiate the terms of the deal, but I don't," Din says.

Bo-Katan stopped struggling in Cara's arms. Fennec and Cara's faces were agape, mouths wide open, as he realized they had never seen him this angry before. Bo-Katan shimmed herself out of Cara's hold and took her helmet off; her face was angry. Bo-Katan's eyes switched from Din to the Darksaber rapidly before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I can't, as I said, that demagolka is right; I need to beat you in single combat to win that blade." She pauses. "I'd bet that was his plan. If I fight you and kill you for the blade, my song will forever be spat on. I had hoped to fight Gideon for it." Bo-Katan continued. Din noticed Koska had her helmet off and was looking at Bo-Katan with what Din could only describe as some form of mix between shock and shame.

"Then fight him, but don't kill him," Cara said simply. Fennec finally decided to get involved in the conversation: "She can't, since Mando tried to yield it to her; any future fight where she wins will be questioned, and rule 1 of ruling is don't let your claim or rule be questioned."

The group paused, absorbing Fennec's words, but Gideon began to stir, interrupting their thoughts and discussion. Bo-Katan swiftly knelt over Gideon and punched him in the nose with such force that he was knocked out again and will have an extremely nasty headache when he wakes up again.

"Ge'hutuun!" she said as she spat in his face and stood. She turned to face Cara and says "As much as I need him dead, don't think you'd let me stream his slow execution over the holonet, and as he said," using her thumb to point to Din, "he's your part of the deal, and I wanted the blade, but he said I could have anything I want." Causing an eyebrow raise and a certain look from Fennec at Din.

"So here are my demands for Gideon. This ship, any and all intel you get out of him, if he's sentenced to death, I will do it, and he stays with us," indicating to Din, then at herself and Koska.

Cara pauses, looks at Din, Gideon, Bo-Katan, and then back at Din. "Sorry, Mando," she extends her hand to Bo-Katan. "Deal," and the pair shake on it. Fennec begins hailing Boba, letting him know that they're taking Cara and Gideon to Nevarro for drop-off and the other Mando's are "claiming Djarin as compensation for him claiming this black lightsaber." Then Boba begins to loudly cackle, so much so that Fennec has to pull back from the speaker.

Din hears because of his helmet, "Tell him our contract with him is complete, and if he ever escapes the Kryze dala, then he's welcome to join us." Fennec turns and sees Din nod as Cara is lifting Gideon over her shoulder and follows her out.

A hefty, silent moment is felt by the three Mandalorians left in the bridge, but as soon as Bo-Katan opens her mouth, Din abruptly walks out.

Din can't hear himself think over his pounding heart; he feels like he's drowning and trying to take in air, but it's not enough. He barely hears the two female Mandalorians call out to him as they follow before he breaks out into a sprint down the hall, making sudden turns at random corners. He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he needs space. He no longer feels the others behind him and notices that a maintenance hatch in the floor is open. Din hops down and closes the hatch.

For a moment, he relives the time when his parents closed the hatch to protect him. But this time, he does not want a Mandalorian to find him. So he begins to crawl through the maintenance tunnels.

A few hours pass.

Bo-Katan and Koska are back on the bridge. Checking security cam feeds. "He's not in any of the bunkrooms," Koska says. "Or the medbay," Bo-Katan says before she sighs and angrily slams her fist on the console housing. Koska, seeing her friend and mentor's state of mind, tries to break through her anger with a touch of humor. "Who knew a man in shiny, unpainted Beskar could be so sneaky?"

Bo-Katan gives her a death glare before the corners of her mouth begin to curve upwards, and the two begin laughing for a moment. Then silence falls. "He doesn't trust us," Koska states unceremoniously. Bo-Katan sighs and nods before adding, "We haven't given him a reason to."

Koska hums in agreement. "We called him a cult member, changed the terms of a deal, and now this shit," using 'we' to deflect blame off Bo-Katan so she doesn't spiral in self-deprecation, but it was noticed.

Bo-Katan smiles at her friend and then moves to the microphone and presses a few buttons to broadcast over the entire ship. "Din Djarin, I call a sha'kajir, a truce so we can discuss this as adults in peace. We've only got a few hours until we meet up with the rest of the Nite Owls, and we need to get our story straight. Please come to the bridge so we can talk. I promise you no harm. Ori'haat Brother."

That broadcast wakes Din up; he is still in the maintenance tunnels. He has destroyed anything that looked like a tracker on his way, but currently, he has found himself in a slightly larger space filled with wires in all directions spanning all the walls. The wires are warm, and he realized that his cheeks were damp. He remembered falling asleep when he found this warm space; the exhaustion of not sleeping since Grogu was taken on Tython and the multiple fights he had a few hours ago caught up to him. But his cheeks indicate that he cried himself to sleep.

The broadcast was very loud, but he replayed the words in his head: she had called a truce and promised him no harm. He doesn't trust her, but a sha'kajir is a respected and honoured cease-fire tradition. He aches all over from the unusual sleeping arrangement and the untreated injuries, finds a maintenance hatch on the roof above him, unlatches it, and opens it.

Bo-Katan had just finished the broadcast, and her and Koska were still on the bridge discussing if they had seen anything in the mess hall before the floor in the bridge opened up, startling the two Mandalorians. The two Mandalorians drew their blasters and aimed at the new hole in the floor.

Din's head popped up from the floor, then he noticed the blasters pointed at him and said, "You promised." The two lowered their blasters. "Sheesh, Djarin, we've been looking for you for hours, then you suddenly pop up out of the floor underneath us," Koska said, holstering her blasters and walking over to Din to offer a hand up.

Din looks at Koska, then at the hand, then back at her; accepting her hand, he leaves the maintenance hatch, now level with the other two. "Let's talk," Bo-Katan says before asking, "Caf?"

Chapter Text

The three sat awkwardly in the mess hall of the light cruiser. The two Nite Owls were sitting close together across from Din; they had finished their caf and were waiting for the other party to start the conversation.

Bo-Katan must have realized that Din was not much of a talker, so she bit the blaster bolt and began. "Look, Djarin, I'm sorry for what I called you on Trask and lying about our purpose there. But we need to address the Bantha in the room. You are a capable fighter and won the Darksaber in honourable single combat, defending your foundling against the man who destroyed Manda'yaim (Mandalore, the planet). But the truth is, many Mandalorians, admittedly mostly Nite Owls and a few of the main clans, will not be happy to learn that a Child of the Watch has the right to rule us."

Bo-Katan paused as Din nodded along while he processed her words; she noticed his reaction when she alluded to Gideon being responsible for the Night of a Thousand Tears. Bo-Katan continued, "In the spirit of truth, many clans wouldn't join us even if I won the blade. My song will probably be known as the destroyer of Mandalore. I was Mand'alor (sole ruler) by right of that blade, and I led our people into a purge due to rebelling against the empire."

Pausing once again to let Din absorb the information bomb she just dropped again. Din was shocked to find out she was Mand'alor before. The convent did not teach much recent history, only ancient history.

Solemn silence fell on the group as they all looked away, remembering the purge and those whom they lost. It was an uncomfortable pause before Din decided to speak. "In the spirit of truth, my covert was decimated on Nevarro. When I rescued my foundling, the covert revealed itself, and Gideon slaughtered us. I saw the pile of Beskar our goran (Armourer) was working through when she gave me my signet and sen'tra (jetpack). But on top of that, by the creed, I am dar'manda because I removed my helmet in front of a living being."

The two Nite Owls looked at each other, shocked at what they had just heard. Yes, they knew that those of the Children of the Watch were deeply religious and followed 'the way of the Mand'alor, but for the wielder of the Darksaber to call himself dar'manda was a hard pill to swallow.

Koska then nodded like she had decided something and spoke, "Well, as Bo-Katan said, you're staying with us, so I guess that means you are one of the Nite Owls."

Now it was Din's turn to be shocked; they were by creed, supposed to be stripping him of his Beskar and casting him out if not killing him, but taking him in was something unexpected. He zoned back in to the two Nite Owls bickering, getting the odd bit of info, "You can't speak for me" and "We wear blue, not mourning colors" from Bo-Katan, and "I reinterpreted your own words" and "He just lost his kid and told us his covert is dead; let the man mourn" from Koska.

Din realized that they thought his unpainted Beskar was interpreted as grey mourning. While he had not considered the implication as the real reason, when he got the Beskar, his first concern was rescuing Grogu, and then he was always too short on time or credits. The implication fits Din perfectly. But now their bickering was getting heated, so Din decided to butt in. "Okay," he said, loud enough to gain the Mandalorians' attention, and they stopped.

"Okay, then, well, we need to discuss what we are going to tell the rest of the Nite Owls when we get to Vor Deo. We need to convince them you are not a threat to their way of life and mean them no harm," Bo-Katan says.

The three of them discussed and planned talking points for Din to say in a public speech, which he was not happy with doing. They did not know him. The way he was raised not to speak much, he was supposed to be anonymous when he went to the surface to provide the illusion of smaller numbers. Giving a speech in front of people freaked him the kriff out.

The two Nite Owls explained that Vor Deo was a trading system that became a smuggling system during the empire, and that the rumour is that some imperials are still smuggling through there. The Nite Owls were there to find them, take the imps out, and hopefully steal some ships, fuel, supplies, and hopefully some credits to help the cause. Koska thought this was a perfect opportunity. Din would make a speech to introduce himself to the others, then prove himself to them during the hunt and subsequent raids.

It sounded good initially, but as they reached the Vor Deo system, Din began to panic.

He was pacing back and forth in the Medbay; the two women basically forced him in there, stating, "We watched the fight with the droid and Gideon; you took some big hits, and we need you conscious for your speech." Din's ears began to ring, his heart began to race, and his breath became shallow and rapid. He's felt like this before, whenever Grogu was in trouble and when he ran out of the bridge. But this time he couldn't run; he agreed to something, and he does not break his word. He stopped pacing and moved to a corner of the room and slumped down, bringing his legs to his chest to make himself small.

He kept trying to remind himself that 'Grogu is safe,' over and over, until he felt himself calm down. A short while goes by until over the ship's intercom, once again, "Djarin, it's time." Din uncurls himself, stands, and takes a few deep breaths to center himself and put on his persona. The Mandalorian Beroya (bounty hunter), one of the best in the business, is fearless, strong, and intimidating to all. Once his metaphorical mask is back on, he leaves to join the other two Mandalorians at the ramp exit.

As the ramp is lowered and the doors open, Din scans the surrounding area, and he sees more Mandalorians than he has ever seen. The number before him is at least double, if not triple, of what his covert was before that night on Nevarro. And they are all looking at him.

Bo-Katan and Koska walk down the ramp to just about the bottom, signalling the Nite Owls to form up with hand signals. Din follows behind them. As the other Mandalorians crowd up, Bo-Katan and Din don't have to project their voices as much.

Bo-Katan, as planned, began addressing the crowd. "Nite Owls, this is Din Djarin. He has come to join us. He was the Mandalorian who assisted me, Koska Reeves, and Axe Woves in securing the Gozanti-class cruiser on Trask and has secured us this Lightspeed Cruiser. For this ship belonged to Moff Gideon." She paused as the murmurs at the name began to ramp up for a moment before she clinked her vambraces together, and the ring of Beskar quietened the crowd once more.

"Gideon hunted Din Djarin and the foundling in his care and murdered most of his covert. Din Djarin's foundling was captured by the Moff, and he recruited me, Koska Reeves, and some of his other allies to rescue the child, and we were successful," pausing again as the crowd began to cheer, but Bo-Katan stopped them.

"We are all aware that Gideon had the Darksaber, and the plan was for me to face him in single combat for the blade. However, he was using the blade to threaten Din Djarin's foundling in the detention center while the rest of us were clearing the ship of the imps. Din Djarin won in honourable combat and has won the Darksaber." Those last few words turned the crowd into a mob, as they were angry that this unknown Mandalorian had won the Darksaber and their leader had not.

The mob were saying things like "We don't know him," "We follow you, not him," "Kill him for it," and "Kriff this rando."

Events were occurring just as the two Nite Owls predicted, and now it was Din's turn to speak. He removed the spear from his back and banged it against his vambrace and the ramp, gaining the crowd's full attention.

"Mandalorians of the Nite Owls, I, Din Djarin, do not claim leadership of your clan. Nor do I claim the title of Mand'alor." Din pauses to watch the confusion on the exposed faces of the apots—Mandalorians in front of him, mentally correcting himself in the process.

Din continues, "I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors that I will not challenge Bo-Katan Kryze's leadership of the Nite Owls."

Bo-Katan speaks up. "And I will not be challenging Din Djarin for the Darksaber." Causing the crowd to cry out different forms of 'Why?'.

"We will not challenge each other for 2 key reasons," Din says, leading into the script that Bo-Katan and Koska planned. "Firstly, because that's what Moff Gideon wants," Bo-Katan begins. "If I challenge Din Djarn and kill him, my song will be tainted forever; he won the blade in defence of a foundling, not for power. Moff Gideon still wants his foundling, for his foundling is a Jedi," and the two speakers pause to let the information absorb in the crowd before she continues. "With him gone, his foundling will have one less layer of defence against the remaining imperial warlords. If he kills me, he will be condemning our people to be forever scattered throughout the galaxy, for he is one of the Children of the Watch. You would not follow him, as you have already stated, and I suspect many of the other surviving clans would not either," much to the agreement of the crowd.

"Gideon used my lack of knowledge about the Darksaber to lay a trap, for immediately after obtaining the blade, I attempted to yield it to Bo-Katan without combat. Therefore, any non-lethal combat for the Darksaber will be questioned. For it is now known I do not want the blade nor the title," Din said, taking the key point of what Fennec said on the bridge.

"Therefore, we have come to an arrangement: Din Djarin will join the Nite Owls while we figure out a legitimate way for me to gain the Darksaber without either of us dying or challenging each other. This path may not be the traditional route, but it allows us to preserve our lives and our honor while seeking a solution that benefits all of Mandalore." Bo-Katan said, causing mild cheers for Mandalore.

The crowd, now understanding the situation while not liking it, Bo-Katan knows they will follow. Bo-Katan will remain vigilant, knowing that the true test of loyalty would soon come. As tensions have now begun to simmer beneath the surface, she prepared herself for the inevitable confrontations that would arise from those unwilling to accept their new reality. But for now, it's time to rearrange bunking arrangements and have a meeting for her command staff, plus Din. They told Din he would have to start near the bottom of the hierarchical ladder, but conceded to his out-of-rank request for a private room. For a private room would allow him to be somewhat protected against traitors and assassins who would kill Din while he slept or ate in public. The plan was: after he proves himself during the mission in Vor Deo, he would then join the command staff formally and be granted more privileges.

The meeting was held on the bridge of the cruiser. Din wished he had paid attention to most of the command staff's names, but he recognized one of the men as Axe Woves from Trask. The quartermaster took to the situation like a Hydroid Medusa to water.

Then began the planning for the hunt for Imperials on Vor Deo. Din knew he would have to earn his place among them, starting with proving his worth on the upcoming mission. He listened intently as Bo-Katan outlined the details of their assignment, determined to make a good impression on the troops at least. Din listened to the head of recon's brief: various imperial sightings at different locations. He made a mental note to familiarize himself with the terrain and locations of Vor Deo and strategize accordingly. But he noticed something odd: the recon's brief mentioned a recent increase in imperial activity near a remote village, which piqued Din's interest. He made a mental note to investigate further and potentially use it to his advantage during the mission.

When prompted by Bo-Katan on where Din would like to go, his gut told him the village could either be something small or something major. "I'd like to investigate the recent sightings in the village before we hit any targets. I could get a clue to where their base is. Your scouts probably kept their distance, but a lone Mandalorian with no ties to the Nite Owls could go unnoticed. It's known I'm a beroya, so I could make it seem like I'm chasing a bounty if I go alone."

He glanced up from the holotable at Bo-Katan, who looked like she was considering his proposal before giving him a nod, approving the mission. Any more intel is better than what they had; the plan was to hit them hard to find out where the base was and for Din to prove himself, so two birds with one shot works for her. Din would borrow the worst-looking speeder to give the illusion of just being a bounty hunter and go into the village with a jerry-rigged bounty puck fob and look for Imperials. But tonight he needed sleep.

The meeting ended shortly after that, and Din began walking to his allocated rooms in the non-commissioned officer area. The room was only barely larger than the crest's bedroom area but had an attached sonic. Din quickly checked for bugs, cameras, or bombs before linking the doors to his van brace and using his spear as a makeshift second locking system to prevent the door from opening without his permission. Once in place, he took one look at the bed before collapsing on top of it and passing out then and there.

For tomorrow, he would resume his mask as the Mandalorian beroya in unpainted beskar, one of the best in the business, is fearless, strong, and intimidating to all.

Chapter Text

Din's vambrace alarm begins to blare, causing him to wake suddenly. Despite treating himself in the medbay yesterday, his whole body aches in pain to the point of nausea. Luckily, he grabbed both pain meds and anti-nausea medication. After a quick scan of his surroundings, he lifts his helmet so he can swallow the pills without water.

His stomach rumbles, and he realizes all he has had to eat was some rations Cara forced him to eat before they assaulted the light cruiser and caff during the discussion with Koska and Bo-Katan. Not trusting himself nor wanting to travel to the mess hall and back, he pulls out a ration from a pouch on his belt. As he does, a familiar shiny ball falls out and rolls on his quarter's floor. He leans down (which was a painful decision) and picks up the ball; he holds it between his fingers up to his face.

It's Gogus Ball, from the Razor Crest.

Tears begin to flow down Din's face inside the helmet as he is struck with memories pouring out of the open wound in his heart. Crying makes his headache significantly worse. So he removes his helmet and holds the ball with both hands to his forehead. Sniffs in a deep breath and says, "I hope you are doing well, kid; I miss you already." He decides to break down what he is doing into small steps so he does not get overwhelmed by his emotions: put the ball back into the belt pouch, wipe his tears, blow his nose with a tissue from his Grogu tissue pouch, eat the dry ration, put his helmet on, remove the spear from the door, and respond to the sudden knock at the door. WAIT, SUDDEN KNOCK.

"Din, it's Koska. Are you awake yet?" Din panicked and said, "Yeah, just a sec," before rapidly going through the list bar, eating the ration, and opening the door. "Good, I wanted to see if you wanted to grab breakfast so I can start introducing you to some of the owls."

Din pauses so he can form his words. "I, uh,. You caught me mid-meal, so I'm" stumbling over if he should be polite or not. Koska has the potential to be a good one, Din mentally notes, as she was the one to dive into the mamacore pit for Grogu after all. But Din sees on her face that this was not the answer she wanted. "osik (shit). Sorry about that. Wait, what were you eating in there?" she asks, receiving a curt answer of "ration."

Koska gives him a look, eyebrow raised, hands on hips, head slightly tilted. Din read it as her 'really? di'kut (idiot) look.' "Djarin, you're not in the field yet; you can have an actual meal. Brenok, our cook, is really good at the traditional recipes. Come on," she says as she waves him over to follow her.

"Um, Koska, I was going to head out on my mission if that's alright. If Brenok is as good as you say, I'd like to try something when I get back, but, uhh," he pauses again, looking at her confused expression. "I will still be eating alone. Because of my covert's rules, I'm not going to eat in front of others." That was not the answer she wanted.

"Don't you still live by their rules even though?" She stops when she notices the sudden tension in his shoulders and sighs. "That's alright, Djarin. Comm me when you are coming back, and I'll let Brenok know you're coming by." Before the two awkwardly realize they have never traded comm information and swiftly do so. Din asks Koska, "What's the way to where the speeders are being held?" and she gives him directions before going to the mess hall.

He almost gets lost. One of the many bad things about imperial buildings is that unless you know the layout or building room key, it's a maze of identical-looking walls, and Din's exploration of the ship was in a haze. But Din finds the exit and finds the speeders; there's one slightly beat-up one that seems separate from the rest. Din hops on and activates the bike and the helmet's nav system to the town and sets off.

It takes him a few hours, but Din arrives at the outskirts of a small, weathered village. The heat of the day is kicking into full gear. Din’s eyes surveyed the modest dwellings lining the narrow lanes, but noticed the villagers moved quickly, eyes downcast and voices hushed, which was not a good sign. Din scans the village center and notices a lot of foot traffic in a cantina. Cantinas are always a good place to start if his mission was a normal bounty.

Din walked in, pulled out the jerry-rigged bounty fob, and made it start beeping. The beeps were consistent enough to indicate that his bounty was on the planet and in the next 50 clicks but not in the room. Still, he scanned the patrons' faces with this helmet and pointed the fob in the direction he was looking, from the right of the room to the left. Then, once completed, he made a grrr sound like he was annoyed and walked over to the barkeep.

The barkeep was a Weequay male, just like in Mos Pelgo, AKA Freetown, back on Tatooine. He asked the usual, "What can I do for you?" in a gruff voice that barkeeps use for outsiders. Din put two lots of credits on the bar, saying, "Information," to the left, one lot of 100 imperial credits, or to the right, 50 new republic credits. Knowing that the imperial credits are still in use, especially in the outer rim, but do not have the same value. Both lots are equal in value in the galactic economy. Din's placement of the credit types gave the impression for the barkeep to pick one.

The barkeep looked at each lot before picking the new Republic credits. "Too much of those types of folks nowadays," but his facial expression gave away the information that his words had a double meaning. Din nodded as he guessed that he was suggesting to the patrons that 'those types' could mean those with bounties on their heads, but what it may really mean is that imperials have been coming through and only spending their credits. "Sounds like I'll have plenty of work then," Din says. Din then describes his fake bounty but gives subtle nods that he's looking for the imps, like "They wear a lot of white, grays, or blacks." The barkeep must pick up on his meaning and begins to subversively indicate that the imps come into town somewhat regularly, but some "really smell like bantha piss," suggesting the sewers maybe. 'How ironic,' Din thinks. He thanks the barkeep and leaves him an extra tip of another 50 Republic credits as he leaves.

It does not take very long to find a sewer exit large enough to walk in and out of, find speeder and foot traffic evidence, and Din decides to stake it out. He noted a rooftop with a line of sight, but a cooling unit could allow him to hide if needed.

Making himself comfy, he comms Koska, "Reeves, come in. It is Djarin." After a few seconds, "Reeves copies, report." Din gives her the sitrep and information he has found, and what he is doing. Reeve receives the information but is curious why he is calling her and not Bo-Katan. "Uh, we never traded comms? You're the one that told me to come to you," Koska says, baffled, but she begins to understand the depth of his situation. Din is not a soldier; he normally works alone. "Guess I'm your CO for now, then. Keep checking in. If you need help, call me, but it'll be at least 20 minutes before we can get to you, if not more," Koska says. "Copy, Djarin out."

A few hours later

Din has been observing the sewer system entrance; the barkeep was right, there is a decent amount of imperial traffic in and out in 45-minute intervals. Din guesstimates that they used to be more careful and sneaky, like how his covert was, but the imperials have grown bold and careless. He sees cargo coming in and out and assumes that this is an imperial storage hub for who knows what. He's already relayed his information to Koska to pass it up to Bo-Katan. He assumes they would make him wait for backup, but when Bo-Katan comms him directly, "If you think you can take it, do it. Good chance to prove yourself to the rest of them. Those of us on Trask and the cruiser know you're capable, but they don't. Hit 'em hard, Vod (brother)."

Din chooses to sneak in after the next shipment comes in. He manages to jump on top of a cargo transport to get through. And after a tense moment at the guard checkpoint inside, the transport is waved through.

After about 10 minutes of travelling through the sewers, the transport turns to the left into some sort of underground warehouse with containers and boxes lining the walls in semi-organized rows or stacks. Din scans the environment and notes that the security is a few of the imperial army, not stormtroopers. So he knows they will have their full fields of vision and will need to be careful. Din jumps on a nearby container to watch what was in the transport he came in with. He sees a decent vantage point and decides to jet up in time with the boxes being unloaded to muffle the sound.

As he watches the transport's crates open one by one, he records their contents and is shocked. It's a mixed lot of ranged weaponry, from imperial carbines and pistols to 3 E-Web cannons. Some anti-vehicle explosives and thermal detonators. However, what really shocked him was that there were valuables such as art from various planets, but most importantly, there was Beskar. There was a small box of what he thought could be smelted pure ore, as the bricks looked similar to the ones in the cantina he got for turning in Grogu. But he saw 3 large crates of Mandalorian armor. He saw helmets, chest plates, and a few pauldrons, all with different colors and clan signets. 'They must have raided another covert,' Din thought angrily. His blood boiled at the thought.

Din watches as each genre of crates is sorted to a separate area of the warehouse. Once completed, he watches the 6 guards return to their posts and the transport leave. He checks his chronograph watch: 10 minutes until the next lot enters the sewer entrance, 20 until they're back here to unload. Din looks around for an observation station or something, but it's not here. This warehouse has one way in and one people-sized exit to the right side. "Not good," he says. He notes that one of the guard's imperial armor is way oversized for the man. The imperial trooper has to constantly readjust different parts of his armor just to see. An idea pops into Din's head: 'At least this time I'll get to wear some of my Beskar.'

Din waits for the trooper's turn to do the rounds, watches his path, and notes that he will be walking behind the crate stack that Din is on top of. Din prepares his whipcord and lies in wait, but not for long, as when the trooper strolls into range, Din looses his whipcord and curls it so it wraps around the man's neck. Din pulls up as hard as he can to strangle the man; he worries about the noise and looks over his shoulder to see his fellow troopers mocking the man. Din feels sorry for the man and considers letting him live until he hears the man's nickname from his comrades: "Little Moff Junior!" One says, and another pipes in, "Just because his uncle is a Moff doesn't mean he will be!" Din felt sorry for the man, but hearing he wants to be a Moff and he's related to one tempers Din's compassion, and he lets the man wrapped in his whipcord die.

Din jumps down and summarizes his guess that the armor could fit over most of him was almost right. Din would have to swap shinguards, gloves, cloak, and helmet with the man and remove his pauldrons and vambraces, but the rest of his beskar would fit underneath. He quickly does the swap and hides his remaining beskar and spear inside his old cloaks, high up with the body. Putting on the man's armor fits him better than the man, and Din is reminded of wearing imperial armor on Morak.

Din finishes the man's rounds, and the other troopers don't notice nor seem to care that he took longer. He managed to hide his comm system in his pouches so he could call for help, but now that Din has a disguise, he doesn't need to. Din helps unpack the next transport's cargo, which was much of the same, but no Beskar this time. Luckily for Din, it was shift change time. He followed the other men through the human-sized exit and knew they were going to some sort of mess hall. He slowed down from the others to create more space between them to duck into a different hallway.

Since he was in a similar situation to Morak, he would guess the layout would be similar. He wanders until he finds a terminal and plugs in to find out where the officers' terminal would be. But he knew without an officer's armband, he would not be getting in. So, back on the hunt he went until he found an unsuspecting officer with an appropriate armband for Din's getup. Near a nice little corner that he could hide the body in, and after checking for no witnesses, he tripped him into the corner and stabbed him in the throat. Putting on the armband and covering the body with nearby junk, 'Thankfully, Empire standards have been slipping since Endor,' Din thinks.

Strolling into the mess towards the terminal, Din removed the fake helmet before interacting with the terminal and letting it scan his bare face, which was nerve-wracking. He still had the imperial stick from Morak and was praying to the Manda that it would still work, and it did. Din specifically looks for relevant information. Base location, troop numbers, if there is any air or ground support, and downloaded it onto a spare drive he learned from Cara to start carrying with him. Din quickly got out of the area before anyone would talk to him about the last time. But they had no reason to; no heroic last stand defending a Rhydonium transport.

Din was forming a plan. This warehouse had a decent number of troopers, but they were not of the storm or death varieties, so Din could theoretically take them on, but most of them were only armed with a pistol. Din learned where this location's armory was, and while he thought to blow it up, he thought the more he could provide Bo-Katan, the better. So, preventing access was the alternative way to go.

Din went to the armory and played it off like he was a new officer who "had been told to get my new blaster" and was allowed access inside by the armory guard. Din went over and grabbed a new pistol and swiped a few thermal detonators and spare gas cartridges for his new pistol that luckily would fit into his regular blasters that he had tucked behind him, and one rifle cartridge. Din knew he was being watched, so he set the detonator charge timer and faked a trip toward the guards' housing door to place it. If the guard is dead, then the armory could be harder to enter. Apologizing to the guard before returning to the warehouse to donn his Beskar armor properly.

Hailing Koska on her comm, she connected, barely getting a syllable out before Din whispered the situation. "It's a warehouse station down here; there are weapons and valuables, but Koska, I saw Beskar. I've placed a timed charge in the armory, but I will engage to provide a distraction. We will need backup to at least haul what we need back to base. Dine out." Turning off his comms before Koska could finish her "Holy Shi-"

Turning his attention to the current guards of the original warehouse, Din still feels stealthy, but he does not have much time. He positions himself in knife-throwing range and lets them loose into the two furthest guards, hitting one in the neck and one in the shoulder before drawing his spear and diving on the guard closest to him, stabbing him in the back, drawing his whipcord, and firing to tackle another in quick succession before letting a third blade loose to finish off the one he got in the shoulder. Immediate threat dealt with. He pulled his weapons from the bodies.

Knowing where the rifles were kept, he stalked over to the box and ripped it open with his spear, grabbed an E-11 Blaster Rifle, and loaded it. Time to move. He stormed out into the hallway once again. He used the same strategy, trying to use stealth for as long as possible, using his knives, spear, and whipcord for many unsuspecting troopers he came across. He managed a few as the hallway was easier due to it being mostly but when some guards managed to get a couple of shots off at Din, standing in the dimly lit corridor, stealth was out the window. Using his normal blasters to put them down. 'It's on,' he thinks.

The Imperials knew he was here.

A sudden blaster bolt seared through the air, striking the control panel near his position. Sparks rained down, bathing the narrow hallway in erratic flashes of red and white light. Din noted at least four Imperial Army troopers rounded the far corner, blasters raised and firing.

The first shot barely missed him; the second nearly clipped his helmet. He turned with the E-11 on full automatic and let go a small burst to make the troopers duck into cover; one was not so lucky.

Now, each encounter is a firefight. As troopers begin to run and engage him, he hears over the imperial comm he kept from the trooper he killed that they are organizing troopers to intercept and some to go to the armory. Din checks his chrono. 'Too late now,' and he hears a very distant explosion. Hopefully, the armory guard is dead, but he must focus on the here and now.

Din advanced towards them, using his superior firepower and training to pick his attackers off, but then he heard over the imperial comms, "Seal the blast doors to the warehouse and the intruder's corridor; we'll box him in."

A deafening clang reverberated through the corridor as the emergency lockdown protocol activated. Blast doors behind him slammed shut, cutting off his escape route. Overhead, red indicator lights flickered ominously as the standard imperial alarm blared constantly.

Din’s mind raced. He had two choices: fight through them like he had planned or find another way out before reinforcements arrived. The decision was made for him as more shots came at him, and a trooper must have thrown a detonator. Din rolled toward the opposite wall, narrowly avoiding the blast. Din realized he had no cover, so he would have to try and use the walls and his beskar to shield his advance.

Back and forth, Din used everything he could to his advantage. So far, none of his opponents had blasters heavier than a pistol, so until his scavenged weapon ran out, he had a slight advantage. Until, out of nowhere, a trooper with a shock baton lunged at him from the side. Din barely dodged in time, his armor absorbing part of the impact, but the energy surge rattled through him, causing him to drop the blaster in his hands.

Din reached for his spear. If melee combat was what this one wanted, he should oblige, but his plan needed him to keep moving. He grabbed his original blaster from the rear of his belt and quick-drew it, shooting the baton-wielding trooper in the head. Din was proud of himself before a shot managed to hit Din in the thigh, where his armor wasn't. 'Focus,' he told himself before rolling on the floor towards the dropped blaster, raising it, and continuing his advance.

He was nearing the imperial end of the corridor.

There was at least a squad or two in firing lines in the mess hall double doors. First, they were on their knees, and then he provided a large wall of fire that Din barely jumped out of the way of. Using the structural column as cover. Din threw one of his detonators, using his vambrace to prevent getting shot in the wrist, but didn't protect his bicep. The detonator landed in the middle of the troopers and was on such a short fuse that they did not have time to jump away like Din did.

Walking towards the doorway, finishing the troopers off. As he's about to peek around the corner, he hears the same voice from the imperial comms. "Give it up, Mandalorian! You are but one; we are many. Once we are done with you, we will deal with your friends on the surface. I will complete Moff Gideon's work myself." Din's heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation. He knew he had to act quickly to protect not only himself but also his new allies on the surface.

But with only one way in that was in the direct line of fire, Din knew he had to come up with a plan fast. He began patting himself down to do a weapon check. 1 rifle that's almost empty, 3 pistols, his spear, his various knives, and 2 detonators, but then his hand nudged something heavy and made of beskar. THE DARKSABER.

Din decided to draw it and remembered the words he was once told that it can cut through anything, apart from beskar. He thought he could cut a new entry point or a possible escape route in the wall on the other side of the doorway. 'Krif it,' he thought, activating a thermal detonator and throwing it as far as he could inside as he dove to the other side. The explosion was deafening and was just the distraction he needed for the shots to start firing while he cut into the wall. He made a ring and had to kick the dislodged wall as hard as he could; he felt his back flare up as he did so, but the circle of rock fell through. He'd have to crawl through, but it was better than staying here. He fired some random, unaimed blaster shots around the corner of the mess hall door frame, causing the troopers inside to begin another barrage, and crawled through the new hole.

He clambered his way up and began sprinting through this new hallway that turned around the corner of the mess hall. He was running past bunkrooms and bathrooms, but he needed to flank the mess hall troopers.

But Din was suddenly clotheslined and fell to the floor. He barely had a moment to recover. As a heavy stormtrooper, clad in reinforced, darker-than-normal plating, and wielding an electro staff that was coming down on him fast. Din rolled out of the way, but he knew this trooper variant that Din had never encountered before was forcing Din into a brutal melee. Din, with the darksaber still in hand, activated its black blade. He swung the Darksaber hard, but his grip was faltering. The earlier injury to his dominant arm sent jolts of pain through his muscles.

The saber clashed against the trooper’s staff, which seemed to be resistant but not heating up like Din's staff. The trooper pushed the saber downward with their additional leverage to hit Din in the side with the opposite end, causing a similar electrical shock pain to ring through Din's body. Din bit into his lips, forcing himself to stay up and aware through the pain, pulling back into a nasty kov'nyn (headbutt), cracking some of the trooper's helmet plastoid. Stunning the trooper. Din swung up with the darksaber, but it was so heavy in his hands that the trooper had time to respond and parry with the electrostaff.

A sudden blaster shot from the side hit Din’s pauldron, but with enough force, it sent him stumbling back against the wall.

The situation was slipping fast.

Din’s vision blurred for a brief second, his armor scorched, his muscles burning—but he steadied himself once more. He spotted an overhead ventilation duct, just beyond reach. A last-ditch idea formed in his mind.

Din swung again with the Darksaber, purposefully high and wide; the trooper dodged and hit Din's thigh plate, but Din managed to hit his target. Slashing through the vent with the darksaber caused smoke to start gushing out all over the trooper. Giving Din the concealment and opportunity to strike, Din raised the saber once more and sliced through. He heard something hit the floor, and as it rolled, he saw the heavy trooper's head.

He sprinted towards his original target, preparing his final thermal detonator, but as he turned the corner, he was shocked when he saw dozens of troopers in white armor.

The Imperials weren’t just transporting weapons and other resources. They had anticipated Mandalorian interference—they were ready for him.

This was no mere storage hub.

This was a trap built for war.

Chapter Text

Din, faced with dozens of stormtroopers, truly realizes the mess he is in this time. He can’t draw his blaster; too many targets, too little time. He has only a second to react before they start firing, and only two more before the detonator in his hand goes off.

He throws it as high as he can, letting them see the ball in the air, hoping some of the less experienced or more easily frightened would jump out of any perceived landing spot and not open fire. He's seen it before, and he saw it again as he used the momentum to carry him to the other side of the doorway; with a number of rounds hitting his beskar plates and helmet, he managed to deflect one shot with a haphazard swing of the Darksaber. They were using rifles and carbines, so while still bouncing off his beskar, they would leave a nasty bruise if he survived.

He replayed the scene in his head, trying to remember any small detail he could use to his advantage. Then, if he remembers correctly, he has a target. Din swaps his grip on the darksaber for a reverse grip in his left hand; it's still quite heavy, but his right arm aches in pain from the blaster wound. He raises the darksaber overhead and cocks his arm back slightly; he was going to throw the darksaber like a javelin. Sure, his spear would meet the same purpose, but he'd need to swap weapons, which would take more time than he had, and the spear would make him more vulnerable when throwing.

He peeks in the doorway with saber rounding first, aimed and in one smooth, almost preternatural motion, he hurled the weapon. It sliced through the air in a dark, ominous way. In all of the history texts, it has seldom occurred that a lightsaber was thrown like this. No one could have prepared the Imperials for this; sure, some knew what a lightsaber does to a body, but a black blade crackling with energy hurling towards you—anyone would duck and cover. But the stormtroopers were not Din's target.

The central control panel to the mess hall was suspended near the back wall. The moment the humming blade struck, the panel erupted in twisted sparks, sputtering the electronics inside. Almost as quickly as the alarms and lights had gone live, the room was plunged into darkness. With only the still-lit blade heating up the wall as it cascades down, and various red blaster bolts providing the room and the surrounding area with any light.

Panic in the imperials began to spread like wildfire. And Din thrived when his enemies were panicking.

Din used a small opening in the blasterfire to sprint inside the mess hall, closing the distance between himself and the stormtrooper ranks, leaping over dining tables. Din drew the spear from his back and turned on his night vision. Closing in on the first cluster, he strikes with the blunt end, knocking a trooper down before swiftly impaling another with the sharp end. The chaos continued to escalate as Din moved through the room, taking down his enemies with calculated precision. The clumped troopers would normally be a disadvantage, but when they can't see, Din has free rein to swing the spear as he sees fit.

He begins to slash, bash, and thrust his way through the ranks, each movement fluid and efficient. The stormtroopers, disoriented and blinded by the darkness, were no match for Din's skill and determination. He manages to reach the spot with the still-lit Darksaber in the wall, swiftly ducking and rolling beneath a blind swing by a trooper. Picking up the saber, he turns it off so he can quickly rotate his upper body before turning the humming blade back on and slicing through the trooper. Preferring the spear to the saber gives his location away in the dark. He turns it off after stabbing the last trooper on the ground level he is on.

The officer who called for him to surrender was on the second floor. The mess hall had two stories, a bottom floor that had a seating area and was surrounded by what he could guess were standard lower-rank sleeping areas and bathrooms. He had initially approached from the workhouse corridor, but there was a similar exit in each cardinal direction. He needed to move, but if he could capture or kill the officer in charge, the Nite Owls could gain more intel.

Peering round the lip of the second-floor walkway, his night vision revealed a shadowy figure on the second floor. He knew he had to act quickly before the officer escaped or called for more backup.

Dins's comlink blares awake. "Djarin, come in. It's Bo-Katan; we've hit the entrance and are travelling through the tunnels. Ping your location." Dins quickly responds, pressing a button on his comlink and sending her his location. He knew time was of the essence if they were going to succeed in their mission.

He decided to forgo finding the stairs, put his spear back on his back, draw his blasters, and use his jetpack to fly up to the second floor, shooting any stormtrooper he sees. The immediate floor is clear, but the hunt is on.

Just moments ago, an Imperial officer’s commanding voice had echoed in this space, ordering him to stand down. Now, that voice was absent, swallowed by the pandemonium. It was clear: the officer had fled in the chaos.

He activated his thermal scanner. Through the advanced visor embedded in his helmet, the blackened passages transformed before his eyes. The cold corridors glowed in muted blues and purples, their surfaces radiating the chill of an unpowered facility. Yet every so often, a warmer patch—an anomaly in the cold environment—would catch his attention.

Adjusting the sensitivity, Din began to hunt for signs of his target. His practised gaze picked out subtle heat signatures: footprints, the latent warmth of a body having traversed the recently disturbed floor. There were prints of various sizes; Din guessed that the officer may be one of the smaller prints. Stormtroopers wore more heavy-duty boots while officers tended to wear more refined footwear. Narrowing in on one set of smaller prints that were ever so slightly different from the rest, alluding to the rank of the owner of the prints. Din locks onto the track and begins chasing him down.

As he advanced, memories of the earlier encounter surfaced. The officer’s voice, stern and laced with contempt, had both challenged and hinted at something deeper, something that couldn’t be left unanswered. That very challenge now propelled Din forward, not merely as a hunt for a rogue Imperial but as an act of defiance, a personal duel between a Mandalorian’s honor and the Empire’s oppression.

The corridors remained dark, a labyrinth of hallways and maintenance passages where the hum of distant machinery was replaced by a deafening silence. Din’s thermal vision revealed that the corridors, though empty of powered contraptions, still bore the residue of recent activity. Scattered along the cold, durasteel floors were heat signatures that marked a hasty retreat—one leading to a dead end, another veering off toward a narrow passage next to a sealed blast door. Din's tracking software suggested the officer close the blast doors, and they were sealed tight.

The man obviously did not see how the laser melted through the floor after it hit the control panel. But knowing the man had made a trap for Din before, he knew he had to be cautious. Drawing and igniting the blade, he stabbed the doors and began using the finer edge to cut through the durasteel doors. Molten metal began to create a slight gap; Din heard muffled voices on the other side, confirming his suspicions of a trap. With adrenaline pumping, he prepared himself for whatever awaited him on the other side of the blast doors. Shifting his cut to create an opening for him to aim his blaster through, while he cut a small hole with his off-hand.

He peeked through, only seeing two firing lines and a few more using the structural pillars on each side as cover. Din hovered his blaster through and began to blindly fire , hoping to take out as many enemies as possible before they could react. The sound of blaster fire echoed through the corridor, signalling the start of a fierce battle. As he continued to fire, he could hear the shouts and curses of his enemies, confirming that his shots were hitting their mark.

Din's hand cutting with the offhand was now at a weird angle as he was now cutting up and around. Din pulled his blaster back and used both hands to complete the circle, pulling back to do a running shove with his shoulder. As his right shoulder made contact, the metal did move, but not before Din felt a sharp pain; he'd either dislocated it or pinched a ligament. Pushing through the pain once more. He thought to himself, 'Manda, I need a nap after this; a man can only take so many injuries in a few days.'

Before drawing both blasters, his original and his stolen Imperial, he began to pick off the troopers on the other side of the door, double-tapping the ones on the floor he could see. Din knew he had to finish the job (which he quickly realized he was not getting paid for) swiftly before his shoulder gave out completely. Satisfied that the troopers were dead, Din crawled through the hole he had created; the molten metal had cooled enough for him to touch without burning himself even through his gloves.

Unfortunately, when he was through, the lights came back on, blinding Din temporarily. He turned his thermal vision off, and as his vision adjusted, Din quickly scanned the room for any remaining threats, his heart pounding in his chest. With his blasters at the ready, he prepared for whatever came next. He began moving forward once more, noting wall markers suggesting he was in the higher officers' area now. Knowing Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls will be close, Din pushed forward, and with one final scan of the corridor, he zeroed in on the subtle, rhythmic pattern of obviously sprinting steps that matched his thermal readings. The hunt was resuming its frantic pace.

Din followed and neared a narrow passage, a transitional corridor between two storerooms. He readied himself for confrontation. The officer’s trail had grown fainter, perhaps cloaking measures like hastily doubling back. He turned his thermals on for a second, and it indicated to go to the right. Regardless of whether the officer was waiting in ambush or had already slipped by, Din was resolved to meet him again. In the cold silence of the powerless corridor, the hunt for the officer became not just a pursuit of an adversary but a test of Din's patience.

Din kicked the door off its weak hinges, and the metal slammed in front of the officer, a short and portly man with steeled eyes and a weary, almost defiant expression. The two men were facing each other, the officer's hand on a detonator. When his eyes met Din's visor, the officer sneered, “You shouldn’t have come this far, Mandalorian. Stand down… or watch everyone die.”

Din's thoughts went to the Nite Owls now inside the underground compound; they could be hurt or killed in an explosion and a following cave-in. The officer’s detonator was rigged to the terminal behind the man; if Din struck him down immediately, the explosive circuitry in the chamber would activate. The detonator was wired in such a way that severing the officer’s connection to his control module would trigger the chain reaction. 'A dead man's switch,' Din thought.

"Who would have thought the thorn in Gideon's side would appear before me? He was always too arrogant. Din decided to take a step forward, watching the man's eyes dart to his feet. Using the opportunity to set his blasters to stun. "Who told you to take another step, Mandalorian!"

There was still too much distance between him and the officer, but if Din could distract him by letting him talk to get in range of a leap after he stuns him, that seemed to be a plan.

"I've read your file. Din Djarin. Born 30 BBY on the planet Aq Vetina and adopted by a radical religious offshoot of Deathwatch in 22 BBY after the CIS attacked the planet, Din took another step forward, but the officer continued monologuing. "Was hired, found, and captured a Jedi asset for Gideon, whom he subsequently rescued, revealing the presence of a Mandalorian covert on Nevarro, which was promptly dealt with." Another step, but this time the officer noticed and held the detonator up as a warning. "Spent time on the run from various bounty hunters, eventually returning to Nevarro in a trap that Gideon failed to properly spring. He should have just killed you and the asset there and then. Used the corpse's DNA for his experiments."

Din was furious at that, took a big step forward, and distracted the man, saying, "What do you know of these experiments?" The officer tsked three times. "You'd have to ask Gideon; the Rebel Republic certainly won't get any answers out of him before he escapes or takes the honorable way out, a way you should take as well. I know about your rule about your face, but when you scanned it on Morak, you were entered into the system. Linking your face scan to a certain light cruiser that was taken by Mandalorians shortly thereafter. And imagine my surprise when I saw the same scan show up on my base today."

The officer's tone turned menacing as he continued, "You've been playing a dangerous game, and now it's time to face the consequences. So surrender now, and you and your Mandalorian rebels will be dealt with swiftly." Din's heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation he had unwittingly stumbled into. Every fibre of Din's being screamed to kill this man; he knows about Grogu; he has seen Din's face. But that dead man's switch was a problem, a problem Din was now in range to solve.

Din began to lower his blasters, seeing the relief on the officer's face, but suddenly fired stun blasts from both of his pistols before dropping them and diving for the man's hand. The man was stunned unconscious, and Din managed to clasp the man's hand before his fingers went limp and triggered the device. Din realized he had to hold down the button with the man's finger or somehow shift it off. Sliding his finger to hold it down, the man is off.

Din was now free to do what he needed to do.

He bent down and picked up the nearest blaster; ironically, it was the imperial one, and he proceeded to empty the gas canister into the man.

Bo-Katan could have used the man's intel, but the man had seen his face.

He had to die.

This is the way.

Luckily for Din, the monologuing officer was long enough for Bo-Katan, Koska, and Axe to find him. Din realized he must not have turned his location beacon ping off.

Din peered over his shoulder at the three Mandalorians and asked Bo-Katan, "What did we miss?" Din paused before answering, "Shabuir (really bad insult) rigged the base to a dead man's switch; could one of you turn it off so I can let go?" Koska nodded and approached the terminal and began typing, her amusement apparent when she saw the officer was still logged in with his Imperial code cylinder and was able to deactivate the device within seconds.

Din let go of the detonator and made a gesture to Koska for him to take over; he began looking to see if he could delete the facial scan that the now dead officer was talking about while the others began speaking to him. But Din was not listening; he could only hear his own racing heartbeat and short breaths.

Bo-Katan was yelling his given name at him, trying to gain his attention. As she was about to slam her hand on his shoulder, Din murmured, "Found it." Then being brought out of his trance by the hand slam. "Found what, Verd? (soldier)" Din turned around and realized the three Nite Owls never left him.

"Um," Din said while thinking of a lie, "I thought I'd delete my file if I can." Din thought that a lie that is based on some level of truth is better than nothing. Bo-Katan nodded as she began to radio the other Mandalorians who must have come with her. Din tried to delete the file but was denied by the system, but then tried to focus on the facial scan and was successful. Din turned and said, "I couldn't delete my whole file, but I got some." He noticed Koska was looking at the body. "He's a major of army operations, a few rungs down the ladder from a Moff like Gideon," she indicated to those present by pointing at his rank badge on his right pec. The badge had 4 orange tabs and one red tab. Receiving a curt, amused "huh" from Din.

Bo-Katan, now that she was finished communicating through the radio, turned to address Din. "As I was trying to say just before,. You didn't stumble into a cargo hub; you found the base on the planet. You were lucky you needed as many witnesses as possible; otherwise, I would not have brought enough of us. But enough chat; we need to finish clearing the base before we can process the spoils." She put her hand on Din's shoulder softly this time, saying, "You did good, real good. You won't need to prove yourself after this."

Din nodded in appreciation, grateful for Bo-Katan's words of encouragement. He followed her lead as they spent the next hour or so clearing the base together. The leftover imps were of no real consequence and either surrendered or died. Koska noted that Din slowed down significantly after the adrenaline must have worn off and told him to go to a baar'ur (medic) to get his injuries checked out. Luckily, the medic had taken over the Imperial base's medbay, so they weren't far away.

Din almost fainted twice on the way there and barely passed through the door before collapsing. Din could hear the baar'ur's orders being yelled as he lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

Din begins stirring awake, mind groggy and very disoriented. He looks around to gather where he is as he does a mental checklist of himself.

There is a harsh, bright light above him that is dulled slightly by the shading of the visor. 'Still have my helmet, check.' He peeks at the medical bed he is lying on and notes that his arm and various other wounded limbs have been bandaged, and an IV drip has been dripping fluids into him; the bag looks almost empty. 'Managed to make it to medbay and have been treated, check.' The bag's state indicates he has been here for at least half an hour, if not more, if this was the second or third bag. He saw a heart rate monitor wrapped around an ungloved finger on his uninjured side. The device was hooked up to a screen displaying what Din would assume was normal, but he's a serial baar'ur (medic) avoider, so he had no real clue.

Din’s gaze drifted to his body. His battered armor was still attached to him, dented and scuffed from his desperate escape. A dull pain in his left arm pulsed in time with his heartbeat. His weapons, barring the imperial pistol, all seemed to be in an appropriate place. Din dared not look at a certain area of his belt but felt the weight there. He gathered up the will and glanced at the Darksaber hilt. 'Dank Ferrick still has the Darksaber. Unfortunate check.

Din began to attempt to rise but could feel his muscles protesting the pain; then he heard the rolling of a wheeled stool as a Mandalorian with medical symbols on his left pauldron moved into Din's field of view. "Su cuy'gar, Din Djarin. How are you feeling?" the man asked. Din had not met this baar'ur yet, he thinks. So, they probably didn't know his willingness to lie to medics to get out of their care as soon as he could. "I'm feeling good; the fluids and treatment have helped. Probably could do with a pain med or something to help with the grogginess." Din knows saying he's fine is a surefire way for the medic to know he's lying; he learned that the hard way. Din usually starts with a compliment to their work; like him, medics can be a prideful bunch.

"Let that bag finish, and then eat something. Lady Reeves said something along the lines of, 'He only ate a ration for breakfast, like that would meet the big, bad, shiny man's nutritional needs. If you need some anti-nausea medication after you've eaten, you still have one in your pouch from the cruiser." Din nodded at the man and decided to lie back down and let the bag finish, thinking the conversation was over, but the medic continued. "I know you were told my name at the briefing, but I can understand you were possibly overloaded with information. My name is Raal Kiv, Clan Rook. I'm Lady Kryze's chief medical officer, and from the events of today, I am guessing we are going to be seeing each other. A LOT."

Din knew about Clan Rook; there were a few of the lineage in his covert. Din assumed they did not make it out of that night on Nevarro. Din nodded again to the man, who repeated the gesture and proceeded to give Din the rundown of his medical status. "Multiple blaster burns, lacerations, a dislocated shoulder, a few-day-old cracked rib, repeated concussion to the point of severity, and numerous bruises. Very dehydrated, the fluids were counteracting signs of malnourishment and sleep deprivation, signs of repeated cauterizer usage, and numerous other wounds and bones healed improperly. Honestly, Djarin, I have no idea how you walk around. Medically, you normally would not be, so it's not surprising you collapsed, but surprising that you made it to the medbay in your shape."

All of it sounded bad, but at the time of most injuries, it wasn't unbearable. But hearing the big picture was eye-opening. 'If Grogu treated himself like this, I would be furious,' Din thought. The chief medic added himself to Din's contact list, saying, "When you get back from a mission, you call Lady Kryze or Lady Reeves, then IMMEDIATELY call me, especially if you get injured. Big or small."

Din cocked his head to the side. It was his covert gesture of being curious. The medic must have interpreted Din's meaning and explained, "I understand you have not laid claim to the title, but you are the Darksaber's rightful wielder. It is only right that I do my job and keep you in one piece, in case you decide to lay claim or someone challenges you." Dean did not like his reasoning, but understood it. Din glanced over at the bag, noting that it was still draining. He lay back down and asked the medic to wake him once it was done or if someone needed him, and tried to have a nap.

Waking up a few hours later. Din internally cursed the traitorous medic for not waking him. The man shrugged, "Just doing my job," in a mirthful manner before pointing at a plate of food on a small table in the corner of the room. "I will stand outside so you can eat, and no one will disturb you, or they will face my medically informed wrath. Ladies Kryze and Reeves, and Lord Woves, requested your presence in the officers' hub once you are done. Before you ask or look at me, yes, they asked after you a while ago, and since I outrank them in this space, I told them to kiff off." Raal then left the room to allow Din to eat.

Despite Raal's assurance, Din did not feel safe removing his helmet, for he was still in an imperial base, one that had his facial scan on file. Din tilted his helmet up just to his nose; he sniffed the first warm meal he had had in some time. He'd been feeding himself rations for months, especially ones Grogu didn't like. It was still imperial mess hall chow, but Din practically inhaled the slop and stale bread, wiping his mouth with his gloves. Knocking on the door to let Raal back in and begin to vaguely travel back to the officers' area.

It didn't take Din long; while the imperial bodies had been moved out of the way, he followed the path of the carnage he had left in his wake. Running into a few Nite Owls trying to climb through the hole in the blast door, while others tried to use the wiring to force the door open. Din was about to offer to cut a bigger hole before the Nite Owl working on the panel managed to open the door, dropping the one climbing through, who landed with a decent "oomph" before groaning. While the others were laughing, Din walked over and offered the seemingly young female Mandalorian a hand up, which she accepted. Din pulled her up to her feet, and she thanked Din, "Vor'e! (Thanks)." Din nodded in response, letting go of her hand.

As he was about to leave, the one who fiddled with the door asked, "Did you really do all of this by yourself?" Din noted that the man's voice seemed young. Din nodded once more, and all the Nite Owls present "whoa-ed" in unison as Din walked off.

Din made it to the office of the officer he killed and noted Axe Woves outside. Axe glared at Din but moved aside, letting him enter. Din could hear the debate going on inside and wondered if he should just turn around, but before he could make a decision, the door slid open, revealing Bo-Katan and Koska talking. Koska was not facing Bo-Katan; she was interacting with the terminal from which Din erased his facial scan. Bo-Katan was pacing in the room and noticed Din first.

Din did not see the officer's body but noted the clump of blaster scorch marks on the lower end of a terminal face and the nearby floor. Distracting him before he could relive the memory, Bo-Katan spoke up, "Ah, Din, wonderful of you to be finally released from Raal. You can settle this. Koska has dug up some intel on the terminal that suggests a New Republic senator is or has been kidnapped by bounty hunters that have been hired by another Imperial remnant. Apparently, they want to force the senator to allow bases to be put in their sector to 'secure their interests in a nearby region.'"

Bo-Katan paused, then indicated to Koska with her head before continuing, "Koska thinks we should go after them and find the senator, but I think she's biased because of trauma that's not mine to tell," then, facing Din head-on, "Axe and I think we should leave well enough alone. The New Republic did nothing to help Mandalore in the purge and has stood by and let the imperial scraps and bounty hunters hunt us for our beskar across the galaxy," Din noted. Koska visibly winced and tensed up at the end of Bo-Katan's statement.

Silence filled the room. Bo-Katan looked at Din, eyebrow raised and giving him the 'really' look. He suspects he'll be getting that a lot. Guessing that she wants him to speak. "I can ask my old guild handler, Greef Karga, if he's heard anything or can look into it if that's what you want." Bo-Katan shook her head, her hair bobbing back and forth as she did so, which Din thought was hilarious as it whipped her in the face and she had to use her free hand to guide her hair out of her face and mouth. "No, we want your opinion and expertise. We consulted the rest of the command staff while you were out of it, split down the middle. As I said, you've proved yourself to the rest, and now I promote you to command staff, as we can use your outside perspective. There are a few ex-bounty hunter Nite Owls, but none were as well known as you. So what do you think?"

Din paused and thought for a moment. His head raised and tilted back and to the side, the almost universal sign of thinking. Cara would probably prefer Din to help the New Republic; Greef wouldn't want the heat that comes with this, nor would Boba if this abduction is in the Outer Rim and near Tatooine. He is wanted by the Republic; them shooting him down over that ice planet indicated that. There were definitely cameras on that prison vessel, so it's probably from that. But to think of his present company, Koska may have a thing against bounty hunters, based on her reaction to Kryze's words, but then why is she friendly to him? Shelving that thought. Bo-Katan does have a point about them letting the purge happen. But maybe, if they rescue the senator, they'd owe the Owls a favor. Which is a pretty high-up favor to have. But this lack of clear information is bugging Din and impeding him from making a clear decision.

"I'm leaning towards doing it; it could be good to be owed a favor from a senator, but this lack of information is concerning." Din paused to gather his next words. "I felt like this base was a trap, that Major seemed prepared for us. I'm ok with me walking into a trap, as I'm just a beroya (bounty hunter), but I don't want to drain your resources or risk the lives of your troops." Pausing once more when he saw the two Mandalorians' facial expressions.

Expressions that normally occur before Din gets a lecture or yelled at so before they could start, he finished his thoughts. "I still think reaching out to Karga and getting information would be a good idea. If it's a worthwhile senator, then we can bring it to command staff again; if not, then we can leave it be. Either way, I'm letting Dune know so she can run it up her chain."

The two Mandalorian women looked at each other and sighed. Bo-Katan turned to Din and answered for them, "Fine, you reach out to your contacts." Din nodded and tried to leave before he got an earful. "But you are getting a lecture about self-preservation, let alone throwing the Darksaber like a javelin when we're back on the cruiser. Dismissed."

Din nodded again, grateful for the permission to leave, stepped back, already feeling the weight of the impending lecture, and began thinking of where to hide or ways to escape. Din received many lectures from the Armorer over the years; thankfully, Din didn't think Bo-Katan had a hammer to bonk him with.

As he left, Axe said, "Good job, Djarin," with a seemingly begrudging tone, "Beskar belongs in our hands, not the imps." Din could only nod to the man, adding his covert standard saying, "This is the way."

Chapter Text

Din did contact Karga through the cruiser's communications relay and projector. Everyone on the bridge's eardrums almost burst when Karga burst into a laughing fit after he said, "Miss Dune said you somehow became King of the Mandos," and Din did not deny the claim. Karga joked about needing to refer to Din with some title, and Din explained the situation. "Well, my friend, I formally propose an alliance between Nevarro and the good people of Mandalore. This offer will expire as soon as someone else claims the title," much to Din's chagrin.

"From what Dune told me about this Kryze woman, she sounds like a good warrior, but, admittedly, like me, needs to work on the reliability of our word. Seeing that you are not dead and you still have the lightsaber, I see that she has started that journey as I did after your kid did the magic hand thingy that night on Nevarro." Din's helmet picked up on her presence before he could react. Bo-Katan added, "It's called the Force!" and strolled into the projector camera's frame to Din's right.

Karga looked surprised as he seemed to look this woman up and down. Din noted that the blue hologram version of Karga portrayed the motion, and it seemed not to be in a creepy way the man used to do back in the day, more of a putting a face to the name sort of way. "And it's Lady Kryze, for reference. Since Djarin has not taken the title, I am the leader of the Mandalorian people." As she spoke, Din noted that Bo-Katan put on a new kind of facial expression and changed her posture to look taller and what he could only describe as regal-like.

Karga coughed and said, "Apologies, Lady Kryze," bowing his head only slightly before turning to Din. "I'm hurt, my friend. I've known you for how many years and learned your name through someone else?" in a fake hurt/slightly mirthful tone. Din did not stoop down to Karga's level. "Our secrecy was our survival; this is the way."

Karga looked down for a second; his expression and posture portrayed awkwardness and regret before he looked up at Din once more. "My friend, I am sorry that my greed has played a part in the massacre of your people. I want you to know that the bounty hunters took no part in it. While some did kill your people, it was the Imperials that came that stripped their beskar and went into the sewers. After seeing the pile when you came back. It… it was another sign of the error of my ways. I am truly sorry, my friend."

Din was glad for his helmet. It hid his sorrowful facial expression as tears began to swell and fall without his permission. He tried his best not to let the mood seep into his body language, but out of the right corner of his visor, he could see Bo-Katan looking at him, and he knew he had failed. Din let out a breath he was holding, sighing audibly through his helmet modulator. "Thanks, Greef," he said, his voice not hiding his emotional state as he looked to the floor.

Noting that Din may not continue speaking, Bo-Katan spoke up. "I…uh," coughing to clear her throat, portraying that she too was touched by the emotional moment. "Mister Karga," she began before Greef interjected, "Magistrate," shocking Bo-Katan out of her line of thought before she recentered herself. "Magistrate Karga. Din Djarin has come across some information that he thought you could help with. Is your connection secure?" She looks at a Nite Owl on the communication hub who flips some switches and types before they nod back to her. "It is on our end."

Karga does the same on his end, gesturing for them to continue. Bo-Katan conveys the intelligence about the senator's abduction by imperial hired bounty hunters. Din tries to contribute to the conversation, but each time he tries to speak, his voice fails him, and nothing comes out. Once the information is conveyed, Karga says, "I'll reach out to my contacts. I may be out of the game, but this old man still has connections. Sadly, Marshal Dune is no longer with the good people of Nevarro. Once she turned over Gideon, the Republic basically forced her into the Rangers as a 'reward'," making fake quotation marks with his fingers, indicating it was more of a punishment for deserting.

"I'll let her know so she can inform the New Republic, but with no clear target, it likely won't go anywhere. But she did tell me something for you, my friend, before she left." Looking back at Din.

Din tilted his head to the side, indicating he was listening and curious. "She said the reward and what was promised to Lady Kryze was on its way. She said the password is where the two of you met and something about a beautiful krill farmer," he said, adding the final words with a teasing and questioning tone. When Din did not answer, the man deflated and sighed. "Fine! Keep your secrets, my friend. It's not like I or anyone else lives vicariously through you and that I am bored out of my mind without some juicy drama that is your love life," inspiring a snort from Bo-Katan and a slight giggle from the Nite Owl at the terminal nearby. Din's voice came back due to his irritation. "Goodbye, Karga," he said, almost bashing the hang-up button.

Silence fell upon the bridge before Bo-Katan looked at Din, eyebrow raised in amusement. "Beautiful Krill Farmer, aye?" causing Din to groan loudly. Causing Bo-Katan to begin laughing. 'Wow, she laughs,' Din thinks before thinking, 'It's a nice laugh' before internally beating himself and that line of thought up, squashing them down deep. She smacked him on the back of his uninjured shoulder; she was going to hit his injured one, but swapped targets midway through. "Good to know there may just be a man under all that shiny metal," she jokes. Causing another groan, leading to her laughter continuing until Din walks away.

Over the coming weeks, there were some changes. The Nite Owls had decided to take over the base and use it for the entire fleet, which could not suitably transport the resources that the base's warehouses and armory contained. They decided to move some more precious things, like the recovered Beskar, to the cruiser and ensured every ship was well stocked with arms and munitions.

They opened the underground hangar, revealing various TIE fighters and landing platforms. The cruiser needed to land so as not to waste fuel, so a forward operating base was made on the surface with walls made from TIE fighter pieces or various structural materials scavenged from the base below. To secure the fleet, proximity sensors were established at various ranges.

They had decided it was best to sell much of the art, as credits were more easily stored, and they hoped some pieces would return to their homeworlds. They needed money for food, fuel, and medical supplies, but primarily the first two.

Din's reputation with the Nite Owls skyrocketed overnight. Not only did he get them a light cruiser, Gideon in jail (but sadly still alive), the Darksaber back in Mandalorian hands, but also a new base and so much more. Din had people come up to him and introduce themselves left and right. He tried his hardest to remember everyone, but there were too many. There were a few hundred Nite Owls, all of various clans, some new and some old. Bo-Katan and Koska had given him a datapad with all the various names and access to Mandalorian history, including past Mand'alors, for him to learn.

Din still ate alone, mostly in his room, much to Koska's annoyance. She and Bo-Katan tried to get Din to come out of his shell, but he mostly kept to himself, only really coming out for command briefings, to get food and water, and to shower, and he would train alone unless challenged to a spar by various Nite Owls. He won most spars; there would be the occasional loss, but they were mostly due to someone challenging him after a number of subsequent fights, so they knew he was either tired or knew some of his moves. Din took each loss in stride; he would ask his opponent to teach him if they used a move he was unfamiliar with or challenge them back and win immediately after their first spar. Bo-Katan, Koska, and Axe did give him an earful when they heard he joked about a sparring opponent winning the Darksaber off him, let alone how he threw it like a javelin when he took the base.

Din got overwhelmed a few times; he was not used to this many people talking to him or knowing his name, so he got caught hiding or sneaking into the maintenance shafts of the cruiser more than once. He found solace in the quiet, dimly lit spaces, where the hum of machinery drowned out the chaos of camaraderie.

In Bo-Katan's office, she and Koska had a discussion about Din's behavior. "He still doesn't trust us," Koska said, collapsing onto the couch. Bo-Katan was still getting used to the space and tried to rearrange the room to make it more hers. She knew deep down this is where Gideon must have slept, and she burned the mattress and sheets, buying new ones in the planet's capital city. Noting that the expansive system the base had pathways to just about any location on the planet. The Nite Owls had to buy more proximity sensors just to mark them all, and installed roadblocks with hidden alarm sensors at random intervals. "I don't remember Death Watch being this… secluded?"

"We've known him for what, a month, maybe two. Maybe this is just how he is," Koska adds. "Well, he doesn't talk much," Bo-Katan adds. "I know! That speech we rehearsed was so forced, and sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall," Koska commented, letting herself slide down the back of the couch to a lying position.

Bo-Katan pushed her hair back with her hand, then readjusted the headband and pinched her nose, annoyed at the situation. "Maybe we just need to give him some time," Bo-Katan replied, trying to remain optimistic despite her frustration. "But we can't keep waiting forever; we need him to open up if we're going to work as a team to solve the whole saber situation." Koska's head turned to look at her friend. "Are some still trying to pressure you into challenging him?" she asked. Bo-Katan sighed and nodded.

"There are those here that still remember the Kyr'tsad (death watch), both when I was a member and at its height back in Mand'alor Mereel's time. There is deep-centred prejudice there, and they claim that I must prove I have distanced myself from those ideals by challenging him." Bo-Katan explained. "But that's a load of Bantha shit. You distanced yourself when the Nite Owls split from the Mauldalorians," Koska said, her tone full of irritation at the insinuation.

"Even I am not exempt from those prejudices. If you had not called me out on my actions after I lied to him about Trask,. I would be no better than them when it comes to him," Bo-Katan said. Koska's irritation seemingly replaced with mirth, "Yeah, that was a bitch move to do. He short-circuited when you walked away." Bo-Katan snorted, "It was pretty funny, but I agree, bitch move, and not in a good way," she said, agreeing with the earlier statement. "You should have seen him. I swear he looked like he was staring at your ass as you walked." Koska said, her tone almost teasing now.

Bo-Katan, taken aback by this abrupt change in the conversation, looked at her younger friend agape, too shocked to have a witty comeback, causing Koska to start a full-on laughing fit at "Your face!" Bo-Katan groaned and slumped in her chair, hands covering her face, waiting for Koska to finish. When she did, Koska beamed with a cheeky smile, but her eyes held a different mood altogether. "Come on, you have to admit at least one part of him is hot: the voice, the skill, the mystic. He took this whole base on by himself and basically handed it to us on a platter, same with that ship on Trask," Koska says, still poking at Bo-Katan's mental defenses around her emotions. Years of emotional and physical abuse by Pre Vizsla during Bo-Katan's teenage years forced her to bury her emotions and show no weakness. However, through years of genuine care and therapy through the confidential medics, she began to heal, at least until the purge. But she tries every day to open up and deconstruct and challenge the maladaptive thought patterns she was taught.

Koska helped; after the purge, Bo-Katan found Koska after she and her girlfriend were captured by bounty hunters, who had taken their beskar. Sure, in their collective pain, they sought comfort in each other. Bo-Katan used many people in that way, including Axe, during that time. It was almost an unofficially accepted practice, while the medics cautioned against it. But for Bo-Katan, it was never enough or good enough, and she knew it was wrong to get attached, and she hated herself for using her friends to distract her from her pain.

Koska and Bo-Katan's friendship was never affected by their trysts together; it stayed strong, and Koska became Bo-Katan's right-hand woman. She treats Koska how Bo-Katan wished Pre treated her, with respect, kindness, and trust. Koska knew all of Bo-Katan's secrets, and they never shied away from friendly discussion like this, so Bo-Katan thought she should contribute, or Koska would think something was up or do something foolish.

"I admit nothing, mainly because you seem to already have some form of a truth in your head. But anyone who gets involved with him gets involved with the Darksaber. Do they automatically become his consort? What if he gets them pregnant before taking the title? Kriff, he still doesn't want the title!" She pauses before she begins to ramble down her spiral, not wanting to dig her metaphorical grave against Koska any deeper, but with one look at her friend, she knows it is too late. So, might as well keep going or put it to bed.

"Koska, you know me, you know my baggage, and know it's a kriffing lot, and he already has a full plate of shit himself to deal with. I know you were only thinking of a ground and pound, so to speak, but he lives by a different set of rules. What if his covenant says that if someone sleeps with him, they have to take the riduurok (marriage agreement)? He doesn't show his face for Manda's sake! even after he removed it and called himself Dar'manda." Koska nodded along, agreeing with what Bo-Katan was saying.

Koska pauses to think for a second, letting her head drop to the couch cushions before continuing. "You're right, I was just saying, but you're right. I mean, finally a new face-well helmet around here, and it's a bantha shit storm complicated. But still fun talking about it, you know. Especially as I said, he still doesn't trust us, so adding a new element of, as you put it, ground and pounding would complicate matters significantly. I still think that whole helmet shit is kriffed, but hey, if it makes him more comfortable with us".

"I agree," Bo-Katan added, along with a nod. "Look, let's brainstorm ways to create the space for him to trust us, as the baar'urs (medic) like to put it. If he and I can show no divide between us, then there is less chance of a mutiny. Maybe we can get Axe involved, get the guy's perspective." Bo-Katan lays down her logic, and Koska responds by sitting up, shrugging her shoulders, firing up her traps, curling her arms in front of her in a pose, and deepening her voice, "Lads, lads, lads. Only boy understands another boy. Girl, don't get it," causing Bo-Katan to laugh once more.

Chapter Text

A few more days pass for the now Nite Owl base on Vor Deo. Bo-Katan and Koska had consulted Axe about Din. Koska had tried almost every day to drag Din to the mess hall to eat. Rather than his usual, grab a takeaway container and eat it in solitude.

Din begrudgingly went to Raal for his aftercare checkups. The bacta infusion had healed his shoulder and sealed his wounds. Din felt like he was being tortured for his medical history, constant reframing of the same questions over and over, until Din gave a rough overview of what he remembered. Lining up with the full body scans and X-rays Raal did when Din was unconscious.

Bo-Katan purposefully made an effort to be seen with Din, whether it be at command meetings or when he would be dragged by Koska to train. She wanted to give her troops a sense of unity. She forced her facial expressions to mask her growing annoyance. Din's lack of communication or willingness to not look like he's on high alert. Whenever she would try and get to know the man, he would clam up, and when she would press him, he would either walk away or say, "Our secrecy is our survival; this is the way." Which she understood, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Her annoyance was compounded by other things as well, the ever-increasing pile of datapads filled with paperwork and the inactivity. This time at the base was becoming one of the longest the Nite Owls had spent in one location without a mission. She worried that without something to do, her people would get antsy, and that was never a good thing for all of Mandalorian history. Sure, they had sold most of the art and other resources that would be difficult to transport under attack, and Bo-Katan decided that there were enough credits to spare from buying necessities that the excess would be put in the hands of the troops. It sounded like a good plan until she realized most would use said credits to gamble or buy booze.

Not Din, though. He almost refused the credits until she forcefully put them into his hand. He said he'd go on local bounties to not only pass the time but also earn some more money, which he would donate to the cause like he had in his covert. It was nice and aggravating that someone could be so noble. It had been so long since Bo-Katan met someone like that. She saw elements of her friend Ahsoka in Din. But even Ahsoka was more social and more vocal. Bo-Katan thought Koska and Axe's plan to take Din drinking was a good idea… until he shot it down immediately with no hesitation.

She groaned and slumped into her desk. Paperwork was never Bo's strong suit; she was a warrior who had political training. But with the very limited number of New Mandalorians that would have excelled in this area and the fact that she was the leader, she was the prime paperwork manager number one.

Distracting her from her anguish, her com on her vambrace piped up as Axe's voice came through: "Bo-Katan, Djarin's contact has come through. Get to the bridge ASAP." Bo could not get up fast enough. 'Thank the Manda! Finally!' she thinks before practically sprinting out the door.

The bridge doors open, and Bo spots the familiar man through the holoprojector, catching the tail end of a conversation. "Well, my friend, it has been good to catch up, but on to business. Ranger Dune reached out to her command with your intel, and her captain has asked to speak to you in that regard. With your permission, I will send him your transponder's details and ask him to ensure his line is encrypted. Cara speaks highly of him, but I thought it best if I asked first." Bo-Katan strides over to stand next to Din while Karga speaks. Din looks at her when the man is done. Bo-Katan could only guess he was asking for her permission by the context clues. Bo-Katan nodded her assent to him.

Karga watched the exchange. "Well then, I'll send him the details. He will call very shortly after we wrap up. Again, it is good to see you, my friend, and you, Lady Kryze," he says, bowing his head slightly at Din and then at Bo-Katan.

"I'm sure Din is happy to see you, too, Magistrate Karga. I thank you for helping us in this matter," Bo-Katan says, reciprocating the gesture. Karga then hangs up.

After a minute or two, they receive a call. After ensuring their line is secure, they answer. The holoprojector displays a somewhat portly man in a Republic flight suit. With a bald head apart from the sides that joined with a distinct but within military regulations beard. Din vaguely recognizes the man but cannot place where he knows him from. "Mandalori. My name is Captain Carson Teva of the Adelphi Rangers of the New Republic." As the man spoke, Din immediately recognized his voice as one of the Republic pilots who shot him down on that ice planet with the spiders.

"Ranger Cara Dune has given me the situation, and I gave it to my superior, who spoke highly of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze," sparking Bo's curiosity. "I regret to inform you that the abduction of Senator Merellis Falke has already occurred. And the New Republic is unable to handle the situation internally, as the bounty hunters have fled into Hutt space, so my unit has not been cleared to rescue her. I have also been unable to look into whatever the imperials want protected in the region, as there are many above General Syndulla who believe the Empire to be gone forever and dealt with after Yavin."

Teva's mention of Hera Syndulla answered her curiosity. The ghost crew that she commanded included Sabine Wren, who gave the Darksaber to Bo-Katan, allowing her to rule Mandalore for the second time, until the night of a thousand tears.

"I know I am asking a lot, and I can't offer some incentive, but if the Mandalorians could rescue the senator, I'm sure I'd owe you one, if not the senator herself. I've removed the list of charges for you, Mand'alor," looking at Din, "free of charge, so to speak. I would prefer not to create a diplomatic incident, so your diplomatic immunity has expunged your record."

Din groans and shakes his head, hands on his hips. "If you could tell or ORDER Cara to stop telling people. I would appreciate it. I am not in charge; Lady Kryze is." His tone was laced with mirthful irritation. "Can do, Mando. You can contact me at this number if you decide to help. If you do, you can take her to Nevarro. Either way, I am sending you her chaincode information, as Magistrate Karga says you can find her through your FOB and tracking software. Or with any future Imperial intel you find, but…uh… if I'm honest, we probably won't be able to act on any intel you find…in a timely manner. So, if you want to handle any future intel and keep whatever you find, let us know after the fact. That's ok as well. Safe travels, and I hope to hear from you soon." Captain Teva hangs up the call when he finishes speaking.

The Mandalorians stand in silence for a moment before Koska pipes up, "Well, it sounds like he already thinks we're doing it." Sparking the debate of the command staff once more. As they bicker, Din receives the senator's chaincode, plugs in a drive with his tracking software, and activates it, looking for where in Hutt space she could be. The program works for the minutes that the debate goes on, becoming heated at times before pinging once complete.

The Senator is being held on the planet Ylesia in the Cha Raaba system of Hutt space. Din knows that the planet was a spice slave colony disguised as a retreat. He is ashamed that when he was working for Ran's crew after his teacher had died, they returned runaway slaves to the colony. Din knows the planet has a tropical climate, and thus there will be places for the bounty hunters to hide. Din thinks that the hunters and the imperials' reasoning is likely along the lines of 'Do this thing we want or be sold into slavery on this planet,' in the hopes of breaking a soft senator.

Din did not notice the debate stop when the senator's location was found. "Djarin, do you know anything of this world?" Bo-Katan asks. Din nods and conveys his knowledge and suspicions, barring his involvement with Ran and the planet. "Thank you. Alright, let's vote. All against, raise their hand," Bo-Katan says, and about half of the command staff raise their hands, including Axe. They were swayed by the information of the Hutt Space location and general distrust and irritation for the New Republic. "All those in favor, raise their hand," and again about half raise their hand, including Bo-Katan and Koska. Din had not raised his hand for either vote, for he still does not believe it is his place to vote on Nite Owl decisions, but to his disdain, "Alright, Djarin, looks like you are still the deciding vote. Yay or nay?" Bo-Katan asks.

Din gave her his word that he'd wait for all the information, and he has it now. Personally, he's all for it, as he still regrets handing over the runaway and thinks slavery is wrong on so many levels. He has a reputation with the Hutts that can take a small hit if needed. But with lives on the line that can be lost because of his decision, he is concerned and worries about making the wrong choice. So he asks for more information: "Are we thinking big force or a stealth team?" Bo-Katan looks confused. "Is that a yes?" she asks.

Din responds with, "A big force is a hard no; a small stealth team is more likely to not piss off the Hutts. I'd go by myself, so there's no risk to anyone important, but I don't have a ship." Din notices Bo-Katan is giving him the look again; he seems to be getting that often before she sighs. "Well, that sounds like a yes, on the condition it's a small stealth team, and as long as you're medically cleared, you can go." She turns to the command staff. "Alright, the team will be Koska, Axe, Din, and myself. It's the smallest team possible, and we can take an Imp ship so as not to piss off the Hutts too much. If that's all dismissed."

Din begins to turn and leave before Bo-Katan speaks, her tone authoritative, alluding to her underlying irritation, "Djarin, my office now," pointing at the blast door in the direction of her office. 'Kriff me, another lecture,' Din thinks before he hears Koska with a mocking and sarcastic tone, "OooOoohhh, someone's in trouble," before getting a death glare from Bo-Katan.

The two Mandalorians walk in uncomfortable silence. Bo-Katan is walking ever so slightly behind Din. Din thinks it's so she can prevent him from running, something his bounty-hunting-honed intuition is screaming at him to do. When they reach her office, he gulps before walking inside. "Stand there and kriffing listen," Bo-Katan says, pointing to the floor in the center of the room as she speeds up to peel around to be in front of him.

"I have had it with you, di'kut (idiot); you need to start taking this seriously!" She crosses her arms, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. Din can feel the weight of her words, knowing that he can't afford to let his guard down any longer. "We said to the fleet when you arrived that you need to not kriffing die. I remember you telling your kid that you'd see him again. You can't see him if you're dead." The lecture has begun in full swing. Din remembers saying those words to Grogu before the Jedi took him away. Thinking back to one of the hardest moments of his life, before Bo-Katan continued, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You need to start integrating with the Nite Owls. For better or for worse, you are now one of us, so you need to act like it. Saying and acting like your life does not matter will not cut it any longer. DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Din nods his assent, which only seems to piss Bo-Katan off more, turning to face Din side-on and groaning in irritation. "And another thing. TALK MORE, ASSHOLE! I understand your people probably didn't, so as not to give yourselves away as individuals to outsiders, but we are not outsiders anymore. Use your damn voice. It's a nice voice, so SPEAK UP."

Bo-Katan stops her lecture when she realizes what she just said and groans out a sigh.

Deciding to try and do what she said, instead of nodding, as that will make her more angry, Din said, "I will try to use more words."

Bo-Katan turned to face Din, a small smile forming on her face, seemingly calmed down now that what had been bothering her in regard to him has been stated and he had agreed to try. "Good. Look, it's a transition and something new and uncomfortable; I get that, believe me, I do. Maybe hang around someone you trust, like me, Koska, or someone else. Because if it keeps up, I will order you to see the mind medic and talk about your feelings and other shit because it cannot continue. You won the saber, you and I are in this mess together, and if you fail, I fail and vice versa."

Din thinks her requests and suggestions are not too difficult, better than her proposed consequence. He knows both Bo-Katan and Koska have been trying to get him to come out of his room, and while they're a tad pushy about it, they seem well-intentioned. While he is uncomfortable speaking, he realized he started talking to Grogu quite often during their travels. It began with simple commands like "Don't touch that," growing to explaining his ship's buttons and functions to full-on conversations (albeit one-sided). "Okay, I will try, but I still need to eat alone, and the helmet stays on." Din said, causing Bo-Katan's smile to grow, her mood uplifted.

She nodded. "Okay, then, well, I would dismiss you, but I want to see you practice, so your punishment for your self-deprecating comment is for you to help me with this paperwork as we work on your conversational skills." causing Din to groan as paperwork is nowhere near his strong suit, but he gave her his word that he would try and follow her orders whenever possible, and this one was followable.

Bo-Katan smiled at his willingness to comply and handed him a stack of datapads, knowing that this was just the beginning of their journey together towards building a stronger bond and understanding.

As Din reluctantly began to work on the paperwork, him working from the couch and her from the desk. Bo-Katan offered gentle guidance whenever he ran across something that confused him and encouragement whenever he completed a document. They fell into a rhythm. Bo-Katan learned that Din had surprisingly good insight sometimes and was straightforward with his logic. Just like when he was deciding whether to rescue the senator, he preferred to have as much information as possible. Din told her that it was not only to know the pros and cons of a given decision, but he also alluded to it giving him time to make up his mind if needed.

Bo-Katan appreciated Din's thorough approach to decision-making and respected his need for time to weigh all options. In the past, Bo had been bitten by her hip-fire decision-making methodology, and she was trying to learn to slow down and consider all possible outcomes before acting like he does.

She already knew he cared deeply, given the fact that he called in favors from all sorts to rescue his kid, but also when she pulled him out of the Mamacore cage, his first words were only of concern for "the child, help the child." But she saw it in some of his reasoning in their work. He always put the person affected first, ensured all their asked needs were met, and never hesitated to go above and beyond to help them. It was another quality she admired and hoped to incorporate more into her own decision-making process.

What broke the bantha's back was when he let slip that the kid was not actually his. "WAIT WHAT!" she exclaimed, standing so quickly that she accidentally knocked a mug of tea and a few datapads off her desk. "What do you mean he's not yours, really? You didn't do the gai bal Amanda (adoption vow)?" Din was stunned into silence, so he awkwardly nodded.

"So you are telling me, you risked your life, called in favor after favor, and fought Gideon twice, once in single combat, winning the Darksaber, for what? Someone else's kid?" Din could only mumble a response, feeling the weight of her words sinking in. "I did it for Grogu," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. The truth of his actions hit him like a ton of bricks, realizing the sacrifices he had made for a child that was not biologically his own.

Bo-Katan sank into her chair with a groan and slumped down, shocked at the man's admission and surprising lapse in judgment. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Why didn't you adopt him?" she asked. She desperately needed clarity.

"Because I was quested to return him to his kind. It would be wrong of me to forgo that quest and claim him as mine even after my armorer made us a clan of two." Bo-Katan's eyes widened in understanding, realizing the weight of the Mandalorian's duty and honor. She propped herself up to look at him. "Din, he asked to see your face when he left. He looked to you for comfort. If that's not viewing you as his buir (parent), then I don't know what is."

Din dropped the datapad he was holding. He was trying to use the pad as a distraction from the emotions stirred up by this conversation, but that final comment was when the floodgates burst. He abruptly stood up and, with a coarse voice, said, "I need to go", and basically sprinted out of the room.

Speedwalking to his room, he ignored the Nite Owls who greeted him. He needed to be alone; it was too much. Luckily, his room was not far from Bo-Katan's. He barely processed the door opening and then shutting behind him as he ripped off his helmet and slammed it into his empty closet space. Tears streamed down his face as he collapsed onto his bed, overwhelmed by the weight of his emotions. The conversation had unearthed feelings he had long buried, and now he had no choice but to confront them head-on.

Grogu looked to him as his father, and deep down, he looked to Grogu as his son.

Chapter Text

It takes the four Mandalorians a few days to fly through hyperspace from Vor Deo to Ylesia in Bo-Katan's Kom'rk-class fighter-transport. While the three Nite Owls were obviously used to travelling together, Din was not. Bo-Katan took her usual captain's quarters, as was her right, but the rest were in the troop bunks, with no privacy. Din knew even if he hung a curtain, he would still sleep in his Beskar armor and buy'ce (helmet).

Axe gave him the stink eye whenever he saw Din, but never outright did anything against him. Din reasoned that the man showed him respect before for liberating the Imperial-held Beskar, but still didn't like him. Din was fine with that; he thought that Bo-Katan and Koska should be more distrusting and hostile towards Din. Like they were on Trask. The complete 180 change in manner towards him made him uneasy, like they were tricking him. It reminded Din of the times when women would try and seduce him, for then, as soon as he was vulnerable, the woman's partners would rush Din to kill him for either a bounty, prisoner release, or worst of all, to steal Din's beskar. Din quickly learned never to get himself in those situations again and thoroughly vetted anyone he would hire to scratch that itch. He wasn't proud of those times. His mother and Buir (parent) raised him differently; he would hear their voices in the faces of those women who'd trick him before he killed them.

So whenever Bo-Katan would lecture him, it made him believe in her a little bit more, as her lectures were always full of good intentions, but her anger was in line with Trask.

Still, it was unnerving to be in a confined space with the three Nite Owls and tiring to always be on high alert in case they betrayed him. He would only partially go to sleep, expecting them to try and stab him in the night. But they didn't, which only made him worry more.

They'd let him eat alone, as that was what he and Bo-Katan agreed on, but he was dragged to socialize. Mainly playing games like sabacc, which Din was horrible at as his cards reflected off his buy'ce. Which he only found out after losing a few thousand credits.

He was saving for a new ship. Something like the Razor Crest. But deep down, Din knew he'd never replace the Crest. It was his home. He obtained it after his Buir died. His Buir decided to go and try and help Mandalorians evacuating during the purge and never returned, as did any who went to help from the covert.

Knowing how much the Crest meant to Din, he decided to be respectful of Bo-Katan's ship. He would volunteer to do any required maintenance and clean up, causing Din to think, 'How could someone be messier than Grogu?' a few times. He was never allowed in Bo's quarters, nor did he want to. It was her space, but also, if it was anything like the rest of the ship, it must be a mess in there.

After the second day, Koska began joking that Din was their butler, causing a snort from Axe and a glare from Bo-Katan.

One thing that stood out to Din is that even her friends called her by her full first name, Bo-Katan, and not Bo. But knowing that topic would be an emotional minefield, he decided against asking her about it.

On the final day of their approach, they went over the plan once more as Din's fob and tracking software gave him more locational data as they neared their destination. The senator was being held in the jungle on the southeastern side of the planet. Din knew the spice mines were in the north. Part of him really wanted to go and destroy the mines and free the slaves. The other, more logical part was saddened when it reasoned against the action. They were deep in Hutt-owned space, and with only one ship, they could not get the slaves off-world.

Slavery, while illegal by both the Galactic and New Republics, was a rampant problem, especially in the Outer Rim. Din remembered talking about the topic at great length with Boba and Fennec. Boba wanted to take control of Tatooine and abolish and remove slavery and the spice trade from the planet as Daimyo. A prospect Din liked the sound of.

Pulling his thoughts back to the task at hand, they entered the planet's atmosphere far from the target location and dropped altitude to be above the treeline and land Bo's ship a click south away, far enough for the bounty hunters not to see but close enough for jetpack distance if the plan goes wrong. Din liked that they seemed used to preparing a decent backup plan. They split up into two teams. Himself and Bo-Katan, Koska, and Axe. He was curious but thankful to be partnered with her, and his curiosity was sated when she said, "I have to make sure you don't do something dumb like throw the Darksaber again." Causing a chuckle from the other two Mandalorians.

He and Bo-Katan would hit the seemingly ramshackle compound from the east, and the others from the west. It was a difficult trek to the target location due to the tropical terrain. The dense foliage made progress slow, and they had to be cautious of any potential ambushes. The air was humid to the point Din felt like he could drink the air, as it was blisteringly hot. Both Mandalorian teams made sure to keep an eye out for any patrols or motion sensors.

Their helmets' thermal vision was not even worth looking at; they could wait until dark, but with their rescue target being in an unknown condition, they could not risk it. They decided to go radio silent until they were in the thick of it. Expecting a firefight of some sort. Stealth was their best course of action.

Din noticed Bo-Katan signal for him to hold. Looking around to see why, until he heard it.

Rhythmic thumping clunks of metal.

Thump, thump, thump.

Din recognized the sound almost immediately.

It was the sound he heard every night to started his downward spiral of his nightmarish dreams.

The same sound he heard the day he lost his birth parents.

Battle droids.

Din's heart began beating rapidly, and his rage began to surge, causing his hands to shake with fury.

Din had to force his eyes to stay open and deepen his breath, just as he had learned. His buir had taught him that whenever a bounty had or involved battle droids, Din had a history of flipping out and endangering the mission.

Because of this, he saw Bo-Katan signal him to her position.

Din joined her to peek over a large tree trunk and saw the clearing ahead. A group of two dozen B1 battle droids was stationed near a small outpost, their mechanical voices strained with a similar wear and tear that showed on their metal bodies. Din clenched his fists, reminding himself to stay focused and not let his anger take control.

"How the kriff do bounty hunters have battle droids? I haven't seen them since the Clone Wars," she whispered. Din did not respond until he remembered the lecture he had gotten before they left Vor Deo. "I have," he said through gritted teeth.

Bo-Katan looked at him, tilting her helmet slightly down and to the left, making the owl eyes on her helmet look directly at Din, but he knew she was giving him the look. 'Well, that wasn't the right thing to say, di'kut (idiot), he thought.

Din took a deep breath in and out before explaining, "They're more common than you think. Decent sentries and the first line of defence. Mostly scavenged, as even brand new, they can be a collector's item. I think they should all be melted down into scrap, but it would be too kind to the bastards."

Seemingly satisfied with his use of more words and not wanting a deeper explanation of his evident rage, she nodded before turning her attention back to the droids. "They might be easier to deal with than normal; look at them—their joints are all clogged with muck," she said. As much as Din hated to look at them, she was right, and surely the other team noticed the same details. "The sooner we take them out, the sooner we're inside and the sooner we are out of this heat," she stated.

Din nodded, then she radioed the other team. Tapping her radio in Morse code. Saying 'come in. You seeing this?' with the response of 'Copy, on your count.'

Bo looked to Din once more as he checked his blasters. It may be difficult to hit anything at this range with only pistols. Din shook his head. "Let me get in closer. When the blasters start firing, it's time to engage." It was safer to pick the droids off in range, as they had the element of surprise and cover, but Din wanted, no, needed to get in close to let his funnelled rage out. And he left without getting permission from Bo-Katan, causing her to scoff in irritation and amusement.

Bo-Katan relayed the new plan to the others and raised her Westar-35 blaster pistols to rain down shots to cover Din when it inevitably went south.

As Din moved closer to the droids, he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was ready to take them down, no matter the cost. Din used the foliage to his advantage, using it to hide his movements, as he knew B1 droids' blind spots like the back of his hand. Each time he killed a droid, it brought him so much joy; he felt with each one he avenged his parents, but never completely.

He circled round and approached from the north side; the raised mound holding the door to the compound would give him the high-ground advantage he needed to strategically take out the droids. He had to crawl on his stomach in the mud to get within striking distance of the droids. Looking over to Bo-Katan, the small semblance of control asked for her permission to let loose.

He saw the blue and white helmet dip in agreement. Shifted his arms and legs to effectively launch himself at the droids. With a deep breath, he lunged upwards and forwards, throwing a vibroknife into one droid and firing into another on the way down. Landing in the center of the droids. He grabbed the spear and holstered his pistol as he rolled. "Intru-" the droid yelled before Din used the momentum of drawing the spear to knock the droid's head off.

Using the continued movement of the spear to grasp it in both hands, he began unleashing his fury on the unsuspecting mechanical enemy. The beskar spear was slicing and beating the weakened droids with ease, but one man versus two dozen was a lot, so he was thankful for his Mandalorian backup. The sound of blaster fire filled the air as they provided cover from a distance, their shots hitting their marks purely because of the target-rich environment.

The first fight of the day is over.

'No injuries of significance, only a few close calls,' Din thinks. Before beginning to hotwire the door open, the others join him. Simple enough that Din figures this door out by the time they get there. Only shocking Bo-Katan slightly, Koska jokingly says, "Remind me to weld our door panels shut". Reciving a Bo-Katan owl glare of her own.

They decided the stacking order was Bo-Katan first, as she had both pistols and mostly pure alloy; Din second, as he had pure Beskar and the tracking fob; Kosa third, as she brought a carbine for medium-range engagements; and Axe holding the rear, as he had mostly Durasteel armor.

They worked well, likely because they all had some familiarity, were highly trained, and knew their roles.

The inside of the compound seemed to be made of shipping containers. There was evidence from the general wear and tear of the environment to suggest that it had been here a while. 'Possibly where the slave drivers would go if there was an uprising or if the Republic got off their shebs (ass) and raided this planet and those like it,' Din thought. Knowing full well the cowardly New Republic won't take on the Hutts.

Bo-Katan's blaster fire brought Din out of his head. Watching the Nikto bounty hunters drop, her shots still steaming in the centre of their heads. Axe attached something to the wall; Din heard the clunk of magnetized metal attaching to the wall. He turned and saw a motion sensor. 'Good thinking,' he thought.

As the group kept moving, mowing down any hunter that went to engage the intruders, with no hope of really surviving. They would be lucky to get a shot off, two if their blasters were automatic, before Bo-Katan, Din, and Koska's shots would put them down. They reached a Y intersection, with most hunters coming from the left, but the Fob said the senator was held to the right.

Being forced to split up in such an enclosed space with unknown enemy contacts was a dangerous play; it really stacked the odds against them. But Din liked those odds. "Split up like the cruiser. I'll get the senator; circle back once you're done, and we'll either leave the way we came in, or if there's a back door," Din says before leaving down the right, not listening to Bo-Katan's objections as he leaves them. Only hearing her "You're in for another lecture, asshole" caused a smile to form on his lips and for him to chuckle.

Din moved quickly and quietly, keeping his blaster at the ready as he made his way through the dark corridors. He knew that time was of the essence, and he was determined to complete the mission successfully. The only sounds were of the fob beeping and close- and distant blaster fire. Surprisingly, there were minimal contacts this way. None of any note bar one close fight. There was one that used a shadow to ambush Din in the hopes of getting the drop on him. Grabbing onto Din and pushing him against the wall. The Trandoshan was strong and was pushing a blade at Din, trying to get to his neck. Din thought the Trandoshan must have killed Mandalorians before to note one of the weak spots in typical Beskar plating. Din had to drop his blaster to use both hands to resist the blade. But he made no progress in moving the blade away.

The knife tip was pushing against Din's flight suit, not piercing it yet. Sweat dripped down Din's forehead as he struggled to overpower the Trandoshan's strength. With each passing second, the pressure of the blade against his neck increased, making it clear that this fight would not be easily won.

Din decided he was going to get stabbed no matter what in this situation, but it would be best to prevent it from being lethal. So, instead of pushing up and away to resist the Trandoshan, he pushed the blade to the left. Letting himself be stabbed in the left shoulder. Surprising the hunter, he grunted in pain and pulled one of his hidden knives that was secured behind his bandolier. Moving quickly, he stabbed the Trandoshan in the neck, just as he was trying to do to Din.

Din knew he didn't have time to deal with his new wound properly. But it needed to be pulled out before he had to use his arm. He grabbed the Darksaber as he pulled the hunter's knife out, then angled the lightsaber blade's exit port and ignited the blade.

"Kriff, this is going to hurt," he says as he shits the blade, flat side down, to cauterize the wound, and hurt it did. Din remembered the heat this blade exerts, and it burned the wound closed and the surrounding skin to the third degree. "Raal's going to be so mad," he says before moving the blade away, looking at it once more. "So is Kryze." Turning the blade off, hooking it to his belt, and picking up his blaster, which he realises is caked in mud, before moving towards where the senator must be.

He approached the cell, throwing vibro knives into the guards, who went down clutching their necks. He turns the corner, slamming the cell door opener. The tracking fob beeps incessantly and peers inside the cell. He sees a woman in her early forties, of medium height and athletic frame. She has olive-toned skin and dark, wavy hair, and he notes her hazel eyes. Din is reminded of his mother. But she squashes that thought pattern and asks, "Senator Falke?" and the woman nods emphatically. "We're here to rescue you," he says.

Din reaches his hand out to her just like the Mandalorian who rescued him on Aq Vetina and Bo-Katan on Trask.

Chapter Text

As the senator reached for Din's hands, he noted how small they were. While Teva did not say when the senator was abducted, her hands and cheeks showed signs of malnutrition. She could have been here for a few weeks, if not months, given how dirty and small she looks and the state of the droids from before. Din also sees that many of her fingernails are outright missing and look like they were yanked out.

Whatever the Imperials wanted with her, they wanted it badly.

She had no strength in her arms, but before Din could ask, she said, "I can walk on my own… I think." Din nodded and radioed the others, "Senator secured. What's your sitrep?"

Din heard the other line open as blaster fire streamed out over his comm. "You hear that?! That's our sitrep!" Axe yelled. "Koska, two o'clock," he heard Bo-Katan call before more blaster fire and a thanks rang out.

Din looked at the senator; she was in no shape for a firefight. It looked like a gust of wind would knock her over. But the owls needed help. "Do you see a way out on your end?" Din asked. There was a tense pause as the two of them began to move. Din picked up two of the guards' blasters, handing one to the senator. Hearing Koska say, "I see an exit, but the bastards keep pouring through it," before hearing what is likely Koska activating and throwing a thermal detonator, the explosion ended her connection.

"Din, get the Senator out and to the ship. Get us air support, but DON'T CRASH MY BABY!" Bo-Katan ordered. Din radioed his agreement and signalled the senator to follow him and to stay low and close.

The bounty hunters' plan must have been to use the minimal amount of guards to get to the prisoner, but use the other tunnel to flank the rescuers, Din reasons. It's a decent plan that may have worked if the intruders were not Mandalorian warriors. With no contacts, Din and the senator move quickly until Axe comms, "Djarin, motion sensor just went off; watch out. At least 10"

'That means around 15, maybe 20,' Din thinks before letting the senator know they have incoming. Din raises his scavenged blaster and grabs the Darksaber, not igniting the blade yet, for he does not want to strain the injured shoulder just yet.

The pair keep moving, with the senator creating space between them per Din's new instructions, and they are almost at the Y intersection before the first of the flanking hunters appears. The pair begins firing, using the element of surprise to their advantage, downing the unaware hunters. Din counts each one that falls. "One, two, three," beginning to sprint before the hunters recover, finishing off a falling Nikto, "four." He notes that the senator's shots are landing at her targets, suggesting she has had training and is staying calm, suggesting battle experience.

A hunter charges, forcing Din out of his thoughts before he shoots the man in the head, "Five." But the falling man covers the two behind him's advance. Sensing that it's time to ignite the blade, Din fires some shots before dropping the blaster. Din's right hand now joins his left on the hilt, raising it so he slashes the first man as the blade ignites. "Six." Before thrusting the plasma blade into the other's chest from a low angle, "Seven," Din's right hand lets go of the hilt and grabs the man's shoulder/jumpsuit. Din uses the corpse as a shield, pushing him and the body forward to the clump of hunters using the corner of the intersection as cover.

Din is 3 feet away from a kneeling, covered-in-green Duros before shoving the corpse off his blade into the man. Since Din overextends at an acute angle, he uses his jetpack to launch himself 5 feet to the center of the passageway, slashing the man who was standing next to the Duros' arm off. The man screams, clutching his now-gone arm, as Din lands.

Din sees the shock and fear, disorienting the hunters for a second, using that distraction to begin the carnage. Swiping left and upwards, he carves into a hunter, their flesh sizzling, carving him in two "eights." Spinning to decapitate the screaming man, "Nine." The downed Duro begins raising his blaster at Din before a shot from behind blasts through the side of his light green head. Din hears the senator by his helmet sensors, "Ten."

Din holds the saber in a neutral stance with his left hand from the weight of the blade and raises his right, firing his flamethrower as he advances on the other hunters. He ignites one, and their screams are only slightly better than the smell of their burning flesh. 'Eleven,' Din thinks, not wanting to breathe it in. Angling the blade downwards to thrust into a hunter who dodged the flames to the left wall. "Twelve."

Turning off his flamethrower and rejoining his right hand on the blade, slashing horizontally, he slashes into a man's thigh, giving him a kov'nyn (Mandalorian headbutt). Before turning the blade off, his injured shoulder strains and throbs with the pain from the stabbing.

Din decides to ignite the blade in short bursts, as that may be the best way to engage the remaining men. He tests the idea on the headbutted Zabrak, pushing the hilt to the man's neck and igniting and swiftly turning it off. The Zabrak chokes for a second before the life drains from his eyes. "Thirteen," Din says, affirming his new plan.

Din hears the senator call out, "Fifteen, 3 more!" Din turns to the remaining men, seeing the two closest to the door have blaster wounds in their chests.

The final three look scared. One is on his ass on the floor, trying to get away. They've dropped their blasters in fear and are turning to the door. Din could let them go, but they starved someone and threatened to sell them into slavery.

Din drew his muddy pistol, firing once and killing the sixteenth and twice and killing the seventeenth on the floor, but his pistol jammed when he went to deal with the 18th. Din began sprinting at the man; he shouldn't get away. The two make it outside; Din uses his jetpack to gain speed and tackle the man. They tussle and roll in the mud, throwing punches at each other. Din has the advantage as he is armored and has a weapon that Din is using to try and bludgeon the man.

Din realizes he is being an idiot and ignites the blade through the man's right flank; the blade tip pokes out of the man's left shoulder as they gasp for air and go limp. Din lets his head fall back as he catches his breath. Then he looks around, seeing no one, and says, "All clear, Senator. Let's move."

The senator comes out and says, "That was a dramatic eighteenth," letting Din clamber up to his feet alone. Din latches the hilt to his muddy belt and goes to pick the senator up in a princess carry. "Our ship's a short flight away," giving her no warning as he jets the two of them off.

It takes moments until they are landed by the ship. Din notices the ramp is down. Bo-Katan may have lowered it remotely, but Din tells the senator to wait while he checks inside, just to be safe. He quickly checks his thermals and sees no footprints inside the ship. Din nods the all clear and rushes to the cockpit.

Din practically jumps into the pilot seat. Din has not flown a ship since the Razor Crest's destruction, and he is as excited as a young child. Flipping the switches and preflight buttons. He has never flown this model of ship before, but was trained in general piloting when he was in the fighting pits of the covert.

Din instructs the Senator, if they know how to use ship guns, to sit in the gunner's seat but not to shoot the other Mandalorians under any circumstances. He doesn't like Axe or fully trust Koska or Bo-Katan, but he doesn't want them to die. The senator obliges. And Din pulls the ship up, taking off.

It is a brief pause before they fly over to the base once more, noting the swarm of hunters pushing through the second entrance. For such a small base, there is a large number of hunters. The Imperials must be paying really well to afford this many hunters. Din thinks there must be a few of these smaller bases nearby, and when the fighting started, they must have been called to their base. The Gauntlet's two forward cannons begin firing, causing two small explosions when the ground is hit, throwing mud and the occasional hunter around.

The hunters begin firing their blasters at the ship, providing the Nite Owls inside a handy distraction that they use to their advantage. Storming out of the exit, they gun down many of the nearest hunters, causing the rest to split their fire between the ship and the Mandalorians on the ground.

Bo-Katan, Koska, and Axe fire their jetpack-housed missiles in that successive order, with the other two and the Gauntlet providing cover. The overwhelming firepower proves too much as the overwhelming hunter numbers are whittled down as the seconds pass.

The fighting seems to fizzle out as the furthest hunters run away. Din pauses, turns the rear of the ship to the Mandalorians, and lowers the ramp. The three jump up and shortly join him on the bridge, helmets off.

Bo-Katan looks Din up and down, her face scrunching up. "Of course, you had to cover my seat in mud." Din stands, turns, and wipes the seat with his hand, half courteously and the other half in jest. "Didn't think you were concerned by a little mud, Lady Kryze," Din joked.

The three night owls' eyes go wide, they take one look at each other, and they begin deep belly laughing. Causing the senator to look at Din and the Nite Owls back and forth in confusion.

Bo-Katan stands straight, her laugh winding down, and she wipes a tear from her eye, saying, "That's the first time you have made a joke since you've been with us," as she walks over to the pilot seat. Din does an exaggerated bow, like a butler, as she sits down in her seat. The mud squelched under her. "Gross, you go freshen up; better yet, change flight suits after a shower. We'll get us going to Nevarro." Din nods and proceeds to follow his new instructions gladly. He loves his armor and has worn this particular flight suit for years, as now it's his only one.

After ensuring the fresher door is locked, he removes his armor, piece by piece, displaying each on the floor so he can evaluate which is most covered by mud. He, of course, leaves his helmet for last.

Peeling out of the damp flight suit and tossing it inside the clothes basket. He quickly showers, knowing that the others must be waiting. His new wound stings as the sonic touches it. The underlying wound throbs with Din's heartbeat and is slightly tingly. Din thinks it must be the new method of cauterizing. He only got the occasional nick when fighting Gideon, his armor and spear taking most of the hits.

Din begins filling a small bucket with water and soap and quickly dons the slightly grey flight suit; it doesn't quite fit. Din thinks it must be a spare of Axe, and while the men are similar heights, their builds are slightly different. Din quickly cleans his helmet before slotting it on his head. He collects his armor, soapy bucket, and cloth and moves to the common area.

Din sees Axe and the Senator. Axe seems to be feeding her. The other man sees him. "Djarin, can you make sure she eats and drinks everything and then do her bloodwork?" he asks. Din nods, knowing he will be here to clean his armor instead of the bunkroom now.

Din begins with his chest piece, moving onto his pauldrons, thigh plate, and shinguards, and then to the more complicated jetpack and vambraces. Cleaning with practised efficacy. Din notes the Senator has practically devoured the rations and downed the electrolyte- and vitamin-filled water. Her bloodwork seems normal for her condition.

Bo-Katan and Koska join them in the common area; Din must not have noticed the alert and warning of the hyperspace jump. "Senator Falke," Bo-Katan begins. Then introducing the group, starting with herself and Koska, Axe, and then Din. Then, explaining why they rescued her, "We found the intelligence about your abduction and were asked to rescue you through all be it unofficial means, after our warning to the New Republic seemed to go nowhere. Imperial remnants organized your abduction, and they wanted to force you to allow imperial bases in your sector to protect nearby interests. Have any Imperials come to you during your imprisonment?"

The senator's shock increased with every sentence. "Yes, Lady Kryze, various Imperials came or called through holo," she answered before standing. "I am the senator representative of the Noonian sector. Moff Gideon wants bases in my sector," pausing to allow the Mandalorians to process the information. Din, the oblivious man to galactic politics that he is, is only focused on Gideon's involvement. Senator Falke's face looked solemn. "They were offering me Beskar and various other valuables as payment," causing the Mandalorian's inner rage to change from simmering to full-on boiling.

Din was still confused and asked, "Why is it important enough to pay in Beskar to have bases in your sector?" His voice was tense, and his mind was fuzzy from what he thought was the fury he was barely holding in check. Bo-Katan looked at Din, her eyes seeming to find his behind his black visor, and maintained a stare as she explained, "Din, the Noonian sector is nearby to the Mandalorian sector and is connected to the Hydian Way through trade hyperlanes. If Gideon is offering beskar for bases near Mandalore, it means one thing."

The planet is not cursed.

Imperials are on Mandalore.

And they're mining the planet's beskar.

Silence fell on the communal area. The seriousness of the situation had a stranglehold on their thoughts.

It was only the sound of Axe slamming his fist on the table that broke everyone's ruminations.

Bo-Katan coughed to collect herself. "Senator, I presume that you had not given in to their demands? Given your sustained incarceration.":

"Please, after finding out imperials still occupy your homeworld, you can call me Merellis. And no, I did not. Gideon said he would give me a day to think about it, but that was months ago," the woman said.

Realizing that they were the reason for her continued incarceration, Bo-Katan explained that they helped capture Gideon, and he was currently in New Republic custody and apologised for not getting to her sooner, which the senator took well as "You could not have known; you found out and tried to help. Thank you for coming; those scum were starting to get restless without contact for so long. I don't know what they would have done if you had not come when you did."

No one wanted to say a thing; the women present looked down at the floor, their faces showing that they were thinking about how close the senator came to every woman's nightmare.

It was a chilling reminder of the vulnerability they all faced, each one of them silently grappling with the weight of that reality. As the senator's words hung in the air, an unspoken understanding passed between them, binding them together in their shared fear and resilience.

They all began to pile out of the space, each needing a moment until Din struggled to breathe; his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest, but far too slow. He felt hot and cold at the same time. He thought it was the mood or the post-battle depletion of adrenaline. But as his legs began to buckle, he thought it must have been something else.

Din collapsed to the floor, and the group stopped leaving the space. The Nite Owls began trying to check on Din, but their words sounded like they were miles away.

Din has felt this way before, on previous bounties or when he and Grogu were hunted. He thought back to the Trandoshan; they love doing this sort of thing to their marks.

Din began to try and speak, barely getting the word out. "Poi….son" before losing consciousness.

Chapter Text

Seeing a grown man, let alone a capable Mandalorian bounty hunter, go from fine to collapsing due to apparent poison can be a shock to most people. Especially people who didn't know he was injured in the mission, and were all leaving the room.

The malnourished senator was not quick enough to catch him, let alone hold him if she did.

So, Din fell on the floor with a large thud and a bang from his helmet hitting the floor.

They all turned on their heels and rushed to his side. Koska and Axe collectively flipped him over as Bo-Katan fiddled with her pouches to find her helmet torch. She was falling back to her basic medical training; she would shine the light through his visor while it was tinted. She just needed to see if his eyes were open. But she stopped; she wondered if it was against his creed, while not removing his helmet, it would reveal a part of his face.

Those on the bridge on the light cruiser that day did not see his face; only the foundling did. The Jedi even looked to the ceiling, as he must have sensed something. Admittedly, Bo was glaring at Gideon while being held back by Cara. Koska was too busy trying to pry the large woman off her commander. Fennec joined the Jedi in looking at the roof.

Deciding against the usual concussion checks of removing the helmet or shining through it, she reached for his neck. It was exposed as he did not have his cowl, and the Nite Owl flight suit of Axe's seemed too small for the man. She was looking for a pulse and found a very faint one.

"He's got a pulse. You two know he was injured?" Bo asked, receiving negative responses. "Damn it. We have to check if there's a puncture. Koska and Axe, you two take him to my chambers; we need more room than those bunks. Senator, go to the drop hanger; there are medical supplies. Bring as much as you can carry. I'll go to Comm Karga and see if he can help."

As the two nodded, they proceeded to lift him, Axe with the head and shoulders, Koska with the legs. As they moved him, Din stirred as he gasped in pain. Axe's handhold was inadvertently right on the spot where Din cauterized the stab wound. Din tried to speak, his voice strained, "Tran...do...sian," before the pain yelps took over. Axe and Koska continued to attempt to carry the man, while not a small man, Din is surprisingly heavy.

Bo bolts to the cockpit, clambering up the ladder with haste. She doesn't sit down in the communications chair, pressing buttons with force, practically slamming Greef Karga's comm code. While linking it to her vanbrace comm. Karga picks up on the second ring. "Lady Kr—" he begins, but is cut off.

"Greef, Din Djarin has been poisoned; we need you to be prepared when we get to Nevarro. We're—" looking at the hyperdrive calculation "—8 hours out. He said something about a Trandoshan, and there were those scaly buggers on the job."

"Understood, Lady Kryze. That species of hunter uses poison fairly often, and while it's not standardized among their kind, we have an antidote that can work. I'll also send all the information I have on their poisons."

Bo lets out a sigh of relief before concern takes control again.

8 hours.

They have to keep him alive for thirteen hours.

He's already lost consciousness, has a slow heart rate, and seems to struggle to breathe.

Bo-Katan can not let the wielder of the Darksaber die on her watch, or her song will forever be sung in scorn. She needs him to live, not only because no one will believe that she did not kill him through the cowardly method of poison, no less, but also because he's her only chance at redemption now.

"Thank you, Karga. I need to get back to him so we can make it to you alive. Also, our mission was a success, so prepare for passenger transport as well," Bo says, worry creeping into her words.

"I'll arrange transport, but, Lady Kryze," he pauses, and she does not respond, "look after him. He is a good friend and a better man. I've seen what Trandosian poison does to a man, and it's not a good way to go. Please make it here. I'd hate to tell the little guy about his dad's passing."

His foundling. Hiss not formally adopted, but still very much his kid. Bo's heart breaks at the thought of him.

"Will do, Karga. I'll also send word to his kid once I've checked on him," she says as she hangs up the call. Simultaneously receiving the information from Karga. The poisons typically slowly debilitate so they can get their prey more easily. But stronger poisons also begin shutting down the organs, including the heart and lungs.

She stands tall, closes her eyes, puts her hands over her chest, and breathes in and out deeply. She can't panic; she's Death Watch trained, was their second in command at 14, and regent after the siege of Mandalore and before the purge. Bo watched her sister die and her planet burn. She CANNOT allow herself to panic, ever.

She feels her heart rate slow and opens her eyes with one last exhale. She speedwalks to her quarters before the twinge of regret forms for allowing him to be put there.

Opening the door, she immediately sees why: the room is a mess; dirty clothes, towels, mugs, and other dishes make the room look like a mess grenade went off. Let alone the stack of empty food containers that at least she cleaned out.

Bo doesn't think she's a messy person. But when she gets busy, she doesn't find time to clean, nor when she's exhausted, does she care to.

The last few years have been both stressfully busy and depressingly exhausting. Ever since the night of a thousand tears, Bo has been trying to reunite Mandalorians who have been in hiding for years per her own orders. On top of hunting for Gideon to get the Darksaber back.

Din is sprawled on the bed haphazardly; Bo can see he is shivering. Koska and Axe are trying to pry the top of the flight suit off, but it's difficult. Difficult because Din cannot help, and trying to get it off without removing his helmet, given the tight fit, is tricky. Bo moves over to peel the closest arm out of the material. "I thought we were the same size, but obviously not," Axe says with a mirthful annoyance. Bo knows the man does not like being shown up, and Din has been outmatching Axe repeatedly of late.

Bo manages to get the material off Din's arm, as Koska has done the same to the opposite side. As they try and lift the top off his shoulder, Bo notices her side seems to be stuck on.

She yanks the material, pulling it off and whatever skin was attached to it. Causing Din to wake up in pain once more. He rapidly sits up, almost clipping Axe's jaw in the process. Bo can see the wound clearly. She sees the remnants of third-degree burns and the angry red tissue surrounding them.

But she realizes through experience that this is not a normal burn; this wound on his shoulder is a lightsaber burn. Analyzing the angle and knowing who had the only blade of late, Bo does the math and realizes, "DJARIN, DID YOU USE THE DARKSABER TO CLOSE A STAB WOUND?!" she yells.

The other two Nite Owls process what she said. Axe looks like he is staring daggers at Din, while Koska has to cover a giggle with a free hand.

Din's helmet turns to her, but she hears the breath catch through his modulator. He begins hyperventilating, but seemingly not in panic. "Kriff, it must be affecting his lungs," Axe says, guiding Din down to a lying position. Bo puts her hand on his bare elbow. "Din, you're going to be fine. We're going to help you. I need you to stay calm." Bo reaches into her nightstand and reaches for a universal antivenom.

She has a universal antidote if she ever ate or drank poison. Yes, she's microdosed a certain tolerance for common Mandalorian poisons, but the universal antidote would give her time to get to a doctor. All it does is spike the body with various vitamins and minerals that help the body fight infections like poison.

Bo may have taken a small amount of satisfaction at jabbing the injector into his chest, near his heart, with a little too much force, causing a groan in pain.

Bo looked down at Din's chest; it was littered with scars. He has battle scars like any Mandalorian warrior, but like any hunter, he has been wounded often. Hardly any of these scars look like they were treated properly, and some look years, if not decades, old.

Din's breaths are short, shallow, and sound like a wheeze. He nods to her with his thanks.

Having him awake helps; they can ask him questions. Knowing that talking will be difficult, Bo asks if Din can answer yes or no questions. Grunt once for yes, twice for no.

"Din, did a Transdotian stab you?"

One grunt.

"Did you close the wound with the darksaber?"

One grunt.

"Did you know it was poisoned at the time?"

Two grunts.

Ok, so she was right to tell Karga about the Trandosian poison and that he stupidly used the Darksaber as a cauterizer, which she made a mental note to yell at him for if—WHEN—he makes it through this.

Bo's heart pounds as she realizes the severity of his injury, and she quickly reaches for a medical kit; they need to open the wound. Din would have closed the top layer of skin but left the underlying injury alone in his rush to get the senator. Bo tells Axe to go to the cockpit, ensure nothing disturbs their flight, and keep the ship steady. She tells the senator to go get towels for the blood.

She and Koska remove their flight suit gloves, and put on medical gloves. Koska opens the medical bag and prepares wound dressing, bacta, pain meds, and a scalpel.

Knowing Din could pass out any minute, Bo decides to ask the important unsaid question. One she dreads to ask because she doesn't want him to think about dying, but also it's a difficult topic for them.

"Din, have you set up anything for if you pass?'

Din's helmet tips, portraying confusion.

"Din, if you die, the saber becomes a free-for-all, and since you told me you never formally adopted Grogu, there is currently no reason for him to inherit your armor."

She doesn't want to sound insensitive, but it is an issue that needs to be addressed.

"Grogu," he says weakly.

"Yes, you told me your goran (armorer) made you a clan of two, and he is a foundling, so if you say he is your heir, he can inherit your armor," she says, knowing that it is important for the creedbound to pass on their armor to the next generation. As 'Children are the future' is just as important to their culture as never removing their helmets.

"He's going to be alone; I promised him," he says. His breath is short, and his tone tells Bo that he is crying, but he's able to speak, which means the universal antidote must be helping slightly.

"Koska can take over. I will try and get in contact with him if you'd like." Din nods his response.

With her vambrace linked to the ship's long-range communications array, she calls Ahsoka; she knows one of Din's regrets is not getting the Jedi in the black robe's contact information. "Pick up," Bo says repeatedly.

On the third call attempt, Ahsoka picks up, "Bo, it's good to hear from you," in a jovial tone. Bo respects her enough not to interrupt like she did to Karga.

"As it is to you. Listen, I need your help. Remember that Mandalorian with a Kid I sent you? " Bo asks.

"Yes, he's a good man and helped me out. Grogu spoke highly of him and of you," Ahsoka says, surprising Bo, but she focuses before being distracted.

"Well, another Jedi with that R2 unit came and took Grogu. And we need to get in contact with him. Din has been poisoned and wants to name Grogu as his heir if he doesn't make it," Bo explains somberly.

"R2? You get back to the Mandalorian and keep him alive; I'll track the Jedi down," Ahsoka says, realizing the gravity of the situation and need for haste.

The senator returns, and Bo puts the towel under his shoulder as Koska begins to open the closed wound with the scalpel. Din screams in pain as they have not implemented painkillers yet; they need him awake. As they discuss what he needs to do.

—————-—————-—————-—————-—————-—————-—————-

Meanwhile, Ahsoka calls R2, her old friend. She had met the droid on Christophsis, the same day she met Master Kenobi, Captain Rex, and Anakin Skywalker.

R2 extends his antenna so he can answer the call. Ahsoka explains the situation as fast as she can over the droids' interruptions, obviously glad at reuniting after all this time.

Luke, with Grogu in his arms, curiously walks over, hearing the droid go nuts with joy. As he gets close, the droid projects a stream of Ahsoka. "Hello, my name is Ahsoka Tano. I have contacted you in regard to Grogu. His Mandalorian father has been poisoned and needs to speak to Grogu. I have sent the contact information of a friend of mine who is currently with him. The Force tells me this is of great importance, and I urge you to contact them as soon as possible. Thank you."

Grogu leaps out of Luke's arms and begins banging on R2, practically screaming in the Force, 'Call Dad now!' repeatedly until Luke nods his assent to the droid.

—————-—————-—————-—————-—————-—————-————

They have opened and removed as much lingering poison from the wound as possible while applying bacta to treat it. As Bo gets a call from an unknown number. "The Jedi," she says. Koska basically has to hold Din down.

She answers, "Is this the Jedi with Grogu?" she asks tentatively. Luke's affirmative is drowned out by the child's worried babbles. She detaches her comm and hands it to Din.

"Hey buddy, it's good to hear your voice. Are you behaving for the Jedi? Are you eating enough?"

Of course, his first questions are about the child's well-being. Like his skin hasn't lost all its color, and he's infected with a poison that is rapidly shutting down his important organs.

"Hey kiddo, I need to do something with you. So I need you to sit and listen. Can you do that for me, buddy?"

The child babbles a worried affirmative chirp. Din imagines he sits with his usual small thump, kicking his small feet out and tilting his head to the side.

Bo summons the senator as they need a non-Mandalorian witness.

"Grogu, I'm not doing too well right now, and Bo-Katan needs me to say something to you. Do you remember the red-headed lady?

The child babbles another affirmative chirp.

"I want to adopt you, but I think it's best if I hold off until I see you again because I promised, remember?"

Grogu begins babbling with glee. Din can imagine his ears adorably bouncing up and down.

"But if this poison gets me, I need to know you will receive my armor so you will be safe. Grogu, we were made a clan of two, so I name you my heir." Din barely manages to get the words out. Bo doesn't know if it's the poison back in his lungs or his tears.

Grogu coos and begins babbling with a sad tone. Bo imagines the child saying, "No, don't go, Daddy," or something along those lines.

Din coughs a few times but takes another deep breath and speaks once more. Bo expects Din to explain to the child what this means, but he surprises everyone present: "But the darksaber will remain with Lady Bo-Katan Kryze. Until you are able to take the creed or complete your Jedi training."

All the Mandalorians' mouths practically fall to the floor. Bo is gobsmacked. It is not how she wanted to obtain the saber once more. She forces herself to quash her rage to not to interrupt the moment.

The senator, on the other hand, is nodding her approval. Thinking this is a really smart thing to do because of the importance of the darksaber and likely age of the child (she does not know Grogu's 50).

The child begins crying loudly; all can hear it over the wristcomm. Bo can only imagine how loud it is for the Jedi on the other end.

Din's hold on the radio begins to falter. Din is beginning to pass out once more, but tries to console his son, struggling to get each word out. "Buddy, it'll be okay. I…… love….. you," before collapsing once more.

They still had hours until they got to Nevarro.

Bo rushed to Din's side and tried to frantically wake him again.

The rest looked a mix of heartbroken and shocked. A tear at the beauty and solemn nature of what Din said to his son streaked down Axe's face. Remembering saying those words to his daughter for the last time. Himself, Koska, the senator, needed a moment and left the captain's quarters.

.

—————-—————-—————-—————-—————-—————-————

Grogu was inconsolable. Luke had never seen him this bad, and Luke completely understood why.

He reached down to the child and picked him up, holding him close in a hug. Luke noticed that Grogu was clutching the mythosaur skull pendant as he cried.

Luke pushed positive and calming emotions through the training bond the two shared. Letting the boy express his emotions and know he was safe to do so. The cries began to lessen as Grogu abruptly turned to look at Luke's eyes.

"WE HELP DAD," Luke heard in his head. Confused, he asked, "What? How'?

"I HEAL DAD. I DO IT ALL THE TIME. I NEED HELP TO REACH HIM," Grogu said through the Force, hopping down out of Luke's embrace and walking onto a nearby small rock bench with his back to Luke. Assuming his meditation pose, he patted the bench behind him, looking at Luke.

Luke followed his students' instructions, sitting behind the small version of Master Yoda. Luke put his hand on Grogu's back and closed his eyes.

Luke saw themselves, then slowly they shifted up in the Force, looking like a bird's-eye view of their current sitting position, before suddenly spinning, facing the sky, and speeding forward.

Luke saw planets and nebulae as they seemingly sped through space through the Force. Luke could see a guiding star in front of them that he deduced was the Mandalorian's force signature. Luke was amazed at the strength of Grogu and the Mandalorian's bond for Grogu to be able to sense him from so far away, considering the Mandalorian is a Force null. They picked up speed; soon, the planets they passed looked like streaks in hyperspace. Luke felt sick as the speed increased, disorienting him, but he also felt his energy being sapped into Grogu. Luke reasoned that it is his job to provide the energy to find the Mandalorian, as Grogu would use his to heal his dad.

In a short but at the same time impossibly long moment, their speed lessened, and Luke saw a ship, the light now seeming dim with a green hue slowly taking over. They passed through the ship's wall like they were not there, moving towards the light in the captain's quarters.

Luke saw a redheaded woman he recognized from the cruiser's bridge doing chest compressions on a man without a shirt and with a bandaged shoulder. The man's head was blurry. Luke realized the Beskar must be muffling the Force presence, but knew it was the same silver helmet Luke saw that day on the bridge and saw every time he and Grogu meditated.

Luke thought they floated inside the Mandalorian, under his skin. Luke saw muscle pull away from bone, pull away to the organs and cardiovascular system.

He saw that some of the veins were not the usual red or blue; they were green. The green emanated from the man's shoulder area, travelled down, wrapping around the heart, lungs, and other vital organs. Luke felt Grogu take more control as they seemed to float inside the bloodstream.

Grogu knew the green was making his dad sick. He knew it was not supposed to be there. Grogu reached out through the Force to the green. The green seeped into a ball from the walls, and Grogu began to push the ball away. He would push and push and push until the green would leave where it came from. 'DAD WILL BE OKAY,' Grogu thought to the point of willing the Force to make it so.

Grogu repeated the process of pooling the green into a ball and then pushing it out of the wound in Din's shoulder and in the veins around Din's heart and lungs. Grogu knew they were important to keeping Dad alive as he felt his energy wane. Grogu realized Dad was going towards Uncle Greef's force signature, and Uncle Greef would make Dad well again.

Grogu left Dad's body, wanting to look at him. Dad needed to hear him, but he can't. But Grogu will say it anyway.

"I LOVE YOU TOO, DAD."

Chapter Text

Din's eyes open, and immediately, he notices something is off.

Firstly, there is no dark tint to his vision.

Secondly, he's no longer looking at the roof of the captain's quarters of Bo-Katan's Gauntlet. While familiar, it's not clear where he is.

Thirdly, he hears a woman humming a familiar tune he has not heard in what he thinks are decades.

Finally, he smells a stew his father made when he was a boy.

Din turns his head toward the hum and the smell. He sees his mother in her red cloak, sewing at the table and his father with his back to him in the kitchen. Din's heart races as nostalgia washes over him, the warmth of childhood memories flooding his mind. Din begins shifting off the bed, noting that his limbs appear shorter, and he looks down and sees his clothes are what he wore when the droids came.

Din did not see his mother peer up but heard her say, "Oh, he's up." Din's head snaps to her. He has not heard her voice in so long that Din thought he had forgotten it. But it is unmistakably her voice and her face, not the distorted version his nightmares have created from his vague memory from childhood. Her features are soft and familiar, and her eyes are the same as his, a deep brown that is common in Aq Vetina. Her dark hair has sprinkles of grey, and her face looks weary and tired.

Din puts his feet on the floor, noting that he is barefoot. Shifting his weight onto them, he takes a hesitant step forward, yearning to call out to his parents, but he is unsure if this moment is real or just a dream. As the sensations around him feel real, he consciously knows they died years ago. So it can't be real, can it?

He takes a few more steps towards his mother, who puts what she was sewing on the table. As his steps pick up speed, Din practically leaps into her arms. As he clings to her, the warmth of her embrace envelops him, and for a fleeting moment, all doubts fade away. "I've missed you so much," he whispers, tears now streaming down his face, as the familiar scent of her fills his senses, grounding him in this surreal moment.

He feels her arms pull him tighter into her hug, and she kisses the top of his head. He hears footsteps and feels his father's hand tenderly land on his upper back. "And we've missed you, son," his father says.

Din's tears turn into sobs.

Under all that beskar and weaponry, under the mask of the lone Mandalorian bounty hunter. Din is just a loving person who has lost people he's loved time and time again, but can't help caring for others.

Sometimes he feels like he cannot catch a break. He thought closing himself off from others, including the covert, would stop the repeated heartbreak. 'Can't lose someone I care about if there is no one to care about,' he reasoned. But that changed when he met the kid.

That little wamp rat squirmed into every corner of Din's life. Din felt it was impossible not to care for the kid. Din regretted leaving the boy with the imperials the second he did it. He hates himself for doing it still to this day. Even though the second he received the beskar payment, he realized he had been planning how to rescue the kid the entire flight back to Nevarro. Din tried not to let the kid inside his heart. Like how he told Bo-Katan, he knew that his quest was to reunite the child with his kind. It was not his place to begin to consider Grogu as his own.

Seemingly reading his mind, his father spoke once more. "I know, son. Grogu is just too adorable."

Confusing Din. Din pulled back from his mother's embrace and looked at his father. Din recognized features in the man that he saw every time he caught a glimpse of his own reflection or shaved his moustache to honor his father in front of him.

Din looked at his father, tilting his head like how he usually does to ask a question with his helmet. "How do you know Grogu?" Din asked.

His parents looked at each other and then back at Din. His mother answered his question with, "Of course we know our grandson," patting Din's face with her left hand. With her right hand, she reached over and grasped what she was sewing, pulling it over to show Din.

Din's mother was sewing a grey mudhorn on top of red Aq Vetina robes. Smiling with pride.

Din was shocked, confused, and a little frightened. Mustering up the courage to ask, "You know?"

Din's father nodded. "We know everything. We have watched you grow into the incredible man you are," kneeling down to put both hands on Din's face. "I am so proud of you. Everything you have achieved in your life fills me with pride. I love you and Grogu so very much."

"While I wish you took better care of yourself and ate some more. I am happy that you found people who care about you. Speaking of which," Din's mother said, with the tone mothers use with their children to show them that they care.

Din heard a knock at the door. Din looked at his parents, who nodded and urged him on. Din's little legs carried him over, and he had to stretch to the handle. Din pulled the door in, peered around, and saw a Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian had a dark grey flight suit and black-painted beskar symbolizing his desire for justice. His vambraces were both dark red with lined streaks of dark green, symbolizing honoring his parents with a sense of duty.

The Mandalorian's helmet's cheeks were bright orange, symbolizing a lust for life, contrasting with the black helmet. On his forehead, in dark blue so the text would blend into the black, he had two different texts written in Mando'a. On the left half was the Resol'nare: education and armor, self-defence, our tribe, our language, and our leader—all help us survive.

And on the right half, he had the creed: I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors. That I shall walk the Way of the Mand'alor. And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart. This is the way.

It was clear as day, despite the white light shining behind the Mandalorian, who he was.

Din saw his buir (parent).

The Mandalorian moved inside what seemed to be Din's childhood home, and the door magically shut behind him, closing off the white light. He knelt down to Din. "Hey, Din'ika."

Din proceeded to leap at the man like how he had leapt at his mother. Wrapping his arms around the taller man's shoulders, letting him pick Din up. Din began crying once more, "Ni ceta Buir." Saying the strongest Mandalorian apology that translates to "I kneel" over and over.

Din remembers the day Buir took him in, and the day he got his Buir killed.

Din had been with his buir since he was taken out of the fighting corps when he aged out. At the time, Din had no one willing to take him in, and Din struggled adjusting to Mandalorian life. He wasn't the fastest, strongest, or smartest. Children are the future, as adults in the covert and later, Din would say. He was cared for but felt he was never truly accepted. He swore the creed and put on his helmet to wear forevermore. But his situation didn't change. Din saw other children taken into their parents' arms or adopted by one of the bigger clans. But not Din.

It took months for Din's situation to change. He asked many clans to take him in; all would care, but none would take him under their wings. All except Buir.

The empire had just come into power and was cracking down on criminals to gain positive public perception. The empire outsourced some of the more labour-intensive jobs to the guild, and those who fit outside of Buir's moral code were hunted by him with extreme prejudice.

Buir was not from a large clan, nor did he have one of his own, for he, like Din, was a foundling.

Buir saw Din spar one day after he returned from a long hunt. Din was sparring against Paz. And even back then, Paz was much larger than Din. Anyone fighting a larger opponent has to be smarter and craftier than them, if they want any hope of winning.

When Din dodged one of Paz's lunges towards him, he rolled away, grabbing two handfuls of dirt. Once on his feet, Din threw both handfuls at Paz's face. The two boys only recently got their helmets, so Din thought the automatic reflex to close one's eyes would still be there. And he was right.

As the dirt was in the air, Din dove for Paz's left leg, wrapping his whole body around it, then hitting the other leg behind the knee. Causing Paz to topple over with a grunt of pain. As Paz fell, Din shifted his hold on the leg, grasping it in a way that was painful for Paz and would lead to him yielding.

Buir was impressed by Din's scrappiness and thought it was a useful skill to keep the boy alive. Also knowing Din's situation as a foundling, Buir took him as his apprentice, training Din to become a bounty hunter.

It was a semi-typical bounty hunting job. Their prey was a spice smuggler that had pissed off the wrong people. Din was in his late teens, puberty still running its course. The two Mandalorians had completed numerous jobs for the guild. So Din was overconfident. Thinking this would be another walk in the park, as there was hardly any job withheld, the might of two Mandalorian bounty hunters.

What they did not expect was that the spice smuggler was ingesting his own supply that he mixed with stimulants and was almost as heavily armed as the Mandalorians.

Din thought he saw a good opportunity to advance on the man; the smuggler paused in his blaster fire with his primary weapon, using the bursts to seemingly cover his retreat. The man had friends armed with blaster pistols, but the number of them kept Buir pinned. Din thought that if he could push forward to a nearby pillar, he could get a better angle on the smuggler and his friends. Din thought his durasteel armor would protect him.

What Din did not know was that the smuggler was pulling back to the E-Web mounted on the stairs.

Din called out to Buir that he was going to push up in Mando'a. His Buir, seeing the tip of the laser cannon turret and the direction the smuggler was going, was telling Din to wait and to pull back. But Din did not listen. Pushing out of his cover.

Seeing his mistake but frozen in place by fear, Din heard the turret power up and pointed at him. "Time to die, little Mandalorian." The smuggler yelled as he pulled the trigger.

Time seemed to slow down. Din was still frozen in place, but Buir was not. Buir dived in front of Din, shielding and pushing him to the ground, taking the laser round to the back, gasping out.

Din fell to the ground and got up, thinking Buir was fine, before looking at him. Buir was bleeding; his back had a smouldering hole in it. The round pierced right through Buirs' Durasteel backplate. Din rushed to Buir's side, ignoring the blaster fire, and pulled Buir into his arms. Buir weakly reached for Din, putting his hand on the cheek of Din's helmet. His voice was understandably weak as his lungs were obviously hit, but thanks to the helmet, Din heard Buir's final words.

"Get them, Din'ika." "I am sorry," before his arm and head slumped down and to the side.

Din had never felt as much rage and fury as he did in that moment. The bounty was supposed to be brought in alive. But Din made sure the man's death was slow.

Bringing Din out of his state of remembrance, Buir pinched Din's cheeks. Bringing him back to what Din could only describe as a death dream. "Hey, Din'ika, it's okay. I forgive you. I am just sorry I could not be there for you when you needed me. But hey, look at this," showing Din his pauldron. It had the exact same mudhorn skull that Din has on his.

His mother then spoke up: "We are all family; we are all clan." Din looked to his birth parents, and before he could ask, his father said, "He's a good man and raised you when we couldn't."

Buir carried Din in his arms over to his parents, letting them all meet in a group hug. Din's mom gave him another forehead kiss. Before Buir said, "Din'ika, I am proud of you as well." You have become a better hunter and a better man than I ever was. You are strong, caring, and live to the Resol'nare."

Din interrupted him. "But I removed my helmet. "I am Dar'manda!" Buir shook his head. "Din'ika, you revealed your face to save your son. You acted in accordance with the Resol'nare, not the creed. The creed kept us safe, but the Resol'nare is where our souls truly reside in my book."

Din was shocked once more during this… aberration. While Buir and Din never discussed the topic, Din always assumed Buir lived with the Creed in the highest regard above all else. Only Bo-Katan has talked against the creed, and she was admittedly speaking from a place of scorn. Buir, on the other hand, held the Resol'nare in higher regard than the creed.

His father spoke up once more, like he was again reading Din's mind. "Son, what your Buir is trying to say is the creed was important as it kept Mandalorians safe during the Empire or civil wars, but the Resol'nare is where the core values of Mandalorian life are, and you, my son, live up to those core values exemplarily. You are an example of a good man and a great Mandalorian."

Buir nodded. "Din'ika, you are so full of mandokarla that anyone who says otherwise is a liar and a coward," patting Din's hair.

"That is why you should take up the title of Mand'alor," Din's mother said.

Din turned to her to disagree before his father spoke, "It is you who should reunite the Mandalorians."

Din spun to disagree again before Buir spoke, "It is you who will bring and guide Mandalore into a new age."

All three of Din's parents then spoke in unison in an unusual voice, like countless people were speaking through them at once: "Din Djarin, you are the rightful wielder of the Darksaber." You are one of those who were found. You are not burdened by past grievances or by past events. "You are the one who will lead our people into a future of unity and strength, into a new golden age," they said, their voices blending seamlessly.

"I can't, I shouldn't!" Din cried out.

"Din Djarin, we are the Ka'ra. Find you worthy of the title of Mand'alor." "You live upholding the Resol'nare and still have the words of the creed forged in your heart," the voices say.

Din is astonished.

Firstly, the Ka'ra is an ancient Mandalorian myth of the council of ancient kings of Mandalore. All Mandalorians, all the way back to Mand'alor the First, are said to be on this council. If this is real and not just a near-death hallucination… Din can't fully comprehend the implications.

But secondly, when Din removed his helmet, he broke the creed that he had lived by his entire life. This revelation from the Ka'ra challenges everything he thought he knew about being a Mandalorian.

Buir's words from before ring in his mind.

The Ka'ra speak once more. "Din Djarin, you are not Dar'manda. Your soul is intact," causing Din to fall to his knees in relief.

The Ka'ra pauses, letting the sense of reprieve wash over Din like his mother's soothing hug from earlier, before asking the important questions.

"Din Djarin, do you accept this charge? Do you accept the title of Mand'alor? Will you reunite Mandalorians across the galaxy? Will you retake Manda'yaim from the Aruetiise?"

Din takes a deep breath in, bows his head in reverence, and exhales.

"I accept this charge."

"I accept the title of Mand'alor."

"I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors, I will reunite the Mandalorian people and will retake Mandalore."

The Ka'ra release his parents, and they each kneel to look into Din's eyes. And collectively speak in their normal voices

"Good, now wake up!"

Chapter Text

Din woke once more in a vaguely familiar location, yet not the gauntlet. The distinct medical beeps of a heart rate monitor and drips of liquid in an IV drip suggested a medical bay. His helmet's visor dulled the harsh light overhead.

Breathing hurts; each breath sounds more like a wheezing groan than anything normal.

"Ah, you're awake, my friend." Karga's voice carried in any room almost as strongly as Peli's. Din tilted his head to his old Guildmaster. "Welcome back to the land of the living. I do ask you to stop scaring me like this, Mando. It's not good for my old heart."

Mustering up the strength to speak, "I can't promise anything," Din's voice was hoarse, like he had been screaming for hours. The older man laughed and shook his head. "If you did, I would call you a liar, and that is one thing I know you are not, my friend," his tone still laced with mirth.

"How long was I out?" Din asked. Karga held up his hands with 7 fingers raised. Din was not surprised by the fact that since his collapse, he had spent almost a full rotation unconscious or in some incapacitated state. Din knows Trandosian poison is no joke and is grateful to be alive. His sternum hurts like someone performed CPR, which leads Din to believe it was a particularly potent strain to have stopped his heart. Din tries to remember back to the bed on the Gauntlet. He vaguely remembers Koska treating him, but clearly remembers Bo-Katan. 'Must have been her,' he reasons.

Din recalls her words of "If you fail, I fail" in her lecture back on Vor Deo. And her frustration at the notion of his death. 'Why does she care if I die?' he asks himself. Now that Grogu has been named his formal heir and that he said the saber will pass to Bo-Katan until Grogu is ready, Bo-Katan has no reason to keep him alive. Yet, this pain in his sternum is more recent than his call with Grogu.

She confuses Din. A woman of many contradictions. She is a natural leader; he has seen her take charge in the field, and when they filed paperwork together, she knew far more than him. Clearing through datapads just as quickly as she does with stormtroopers. But her actions concerning Din have been odd; by all accounts, she should just take the darksaber now or should have taken it back on the bridge or even just fought him for it. He recalls her telling him to "hang around" her or Koska, but if he did not imagine the Ka'ra in his near-death experience, he needs her around.

Speaking of the Ka'ra.

They wanted him to be Mand'alor?!

Even though he accepted it, Din could still not believe nor fathom the concept.

He was a foundling beroya (bounty hunter) of a tribe that he got killed.

Compared to Kryze, a historic Mandalorian warrior that wears armor that has been in her family for three generations.

Din needs to tell Bo-Katan.

He needs his Goran's (armorer) counsel.

He needs…… his son.

At the thought of Grogu, Din was deeply saddened. He only reached out to his son on his deathbed. What would the child be thinking or feeling right now? Does Grogu know he is okay? Din remembers the child's cries over the comm. He would give anything to pick him up and hold him until the crying stopped, like he did whenever the boy threw a tantrum.

Din's heart rate monitor started beeping consistently. Karga stood from the chair he had brought in, moving over to Din. "Mando, are you feeling okay?" "Should I get the doctor?" he asked.

Din shook his head as he felt the wet tears on his cheeks. "No, I just need to let the kid know I'm alright."

"That can be arranged." Bo-Katan's voice came from the doorway. She was leaning on it casually, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. Her helmet was nowhere to be seen. Her hair was shaping her face well, as it always did. The harsh light made the green in her eyes lighter. He could see her freckles, something he didn't realize she had. 'Must have covered them, or I never noticed,' Din thought. Din felt a flicker of warmth at the mention of speaking to Grogu again, momentarily pushing aside the heaviness in his heart. "Thanks, Bo-Katan," he replied, trying to muster a small smile that she could not see despite the weight of his emotions.

"You're welcome. You gave us all quite the scare," she said, shifting her weight away from her lean and walking over, standing next to Karga. With a sarcastic tone, "I thought I told you not to die before we left."

Karga looked back and forth between his friend lying on the medical bed and the woman standing next to him. 'Mando's not normally thanked me, but I guess she's earned it this time,' Karga thinks before looking closer. Karga gets a devious thought and smiles. Reading into the air between the two Mandalorians too much. Karga takes a step back. "Well, I best be off; I still have a planet to run," stepping away from them. But before he left, he poked his head back through the doorway. "Mando" gained his attention, saying, "Think about what I said before about an alliance. It is good to see you still kicking, my friend." His smile grew before he added, "And it makes me happy that you have finally found someone," before promptly leaving completely. Still hearing the groans and protests from down the hallway, causing him to chuckle again.

Din watches Bo-Katan's reaction; he has never seen her so embarrassed. Her ears become so red they almost match her hair. She is yelling various curse words aimed at the doorway. Before turning back to Din. "I can't believe he just said that," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

Karga has tried to play wingman for Din for as long as he has known the man; in the early days, Karga offered to pay for someone to "entertain" Din. Din would always refuse. As the years went on, Karga switched tactics, pointing out women or men who "look like the type you'd want to settle down with" with a raised eyebrow and a tone laced with innuendo. Din always thought it was odd, a guild master wanting Din to settle down. Din had thought it was because Karga wanted him to lower his guard so that Karga could kill him for the beskar.

But since Karga's change of heart because of Grogu, Din thinks that Karga may genuinely want Din to be happy. An odd notion.

A tapping sound on the helmet brought Din back to the present. "Sorry, he, uh, always does that," Din says. Bo-Katan's cheeks are still slightly pink; she is frowning like she is pretending to be annoyed, but a hint of a smile betrays her acting.

"That's not surprising, actually," she says. The small smile stays, like she doesn't realize it's there. Din goes to sit up, but she practically holds him down by pressing her index finger into his helmet. "Oh no, you don't, mister." Din relents, staying prone.

"Bo-Katan ", I have to tell you something," Din starts. "Oh, absolutely, you do, bucket brains. That stunt you pulled with the saber, while appreciated, came out of nowhere. Where'd you even get the idea? And I won't pretend I am not offended you didn't even ask me first." She says, practically deflating into the chair Karga left, arms flailing about as she did so.

"I, ahh, I don't want people going after Grogu. He needs to be safe, protected. Especially from this darksaber mess." Din explained. Surprisingly, making a lot of sense and showing a glimpse of true wisdom despite the state Din was in while he did it.

Before Bo-Katan could compliment his thinking, he continued, "But it's not that. I am sorry I sprung that on you, but this is something major I need your help with." Bo-Katan sat up and leaned over to Din, her face suggesting worry and concern, asking questions like "Are you alright?" and "Do I need to call the doctor?" in rapid-fire pace.

"Bo-Katan, it's not that," Din said, raising his voice over hers slightly before having a coughing fit. Bo-Katan reached for a cup that must have water inside, reached into one of her pouches, and pulled out a metal straw, putting it inside and holding it near to Din so he could use his uninjured side to position the straw under his helmet and into his mouth. Despite the straw, Din practically inhaled the water.

"Doctors said a few more hours until it's been a rotation since you've collapsed. Then they'd check on you, and if all is good, then we can take you back to Vor Deo." Din is grateful that he doesn't have to be here much longer. He hates being without his armor, being vulnerable to attack.

Din was thinking about telling Bo-Katan about the vision with the Ka'ra. But he does not believe it quite yet. What if he told her and she didn't take it well? What if she's only nice to him because he hasn't claimed the title? There are too many variables, and while the vision felt real, he could not fully believe himself to be found worthy of anything, let alone the Mand'alor title.

Brought out of his thinking again by Bo-Katan asking if he wanted anything to eat. Din's stomach answered for him. She promptly left the room to get him something to eat.

Din still can't comprehend why she is being nice to him. This seasoned warrior and leader of her tribe should not be wasting time on someone like him. 'It must be some sort of a trick,' he thinks. But every lecture she gave him seemed genuine. Din decided to follow her words from one of the lectures to "hang around" her. He needs more data to see if it's a trick. He knows she has gone back on her word before and seems to have the capability to hate him based on their interactions on Trask. But she is trying, so Din hopes he can trust her.

Din makes a to-do list: 1. Recover my strength. 2. Call Grogu and let him know I'm all right. 3. Find the armorer and ask her about the Ka'ra vision. 4. Reunite the Mandalorian people. 5. Retake Mandalore.

Some of those tasks are definitely more doable than others.

Manda, give him strength.

Chapter Text

The meal was gone in a matter of seconds. Din did not truly realize how hungry he was until food was put in front of him and Bo-Katan left the room. While it was a simple medical meal, it was delicious. Din realized he had not eaten probably since the journey to rescue the senator, and while he is used to going days without food or water, the poison recovery must have taken a lot out of him.

The doctors came in a while later and cleared him to travel. With the caveat of no exercise of any kind on the flight, Koska gladly accepted her new role of 'Make this fool eat and hydrate regularly' on the flight.

The senator came in and pledged her help for the Mandalorian cause, not only in the senate but also in reclaiming Mandalore. After being imprisoned due to an Imperial plot and rescued by a people that had no incentive to do so, she was quite adamant about returning some sort of favor. She seemed like a good person to Din. Concerned with the well-being of her people first and foremost. She planned to have Captain Teva's rangers escort her back to her system and check for any imperial presence before returning to the senate.

With Din in a slightly weakened state, he was not quick enough (or so he tells people) to stop Karga from hugging him before he boarded the Gauntlet. "Goodbye, my friend; it is good to see you on your feet." Karga pulled out of the hug and shook Bo-Katan's hand. "Look after him, Lady Kryze. Mando is one of the best men I know."

Bo-Katan reciprocated the gesture. "I think the kid would be mad if I didn't. I know what even a Jedi Padawan is capable of, so an angry Mandalorian Jedi is something I want to avoid if possible." Koska, Greef, and Bo-Katan laughed at her statement. Axe failed to hold in a snort. Before Din could spout a retort, Bo-Katan faced him, letting go of Karga. "The sooner we take off, the sooner you can call your kid," and began walking up the ramp with Axe.

She was doing something with her hips as she walked, swaying them side to side. just like she had done when she changed the terms of the deal on Trask. Din was watching her and thus did not realize Koska was practically falling over with laughter at the two of them.

Only when Bo-Katan was out of sight and Din heard Koska's armor hit the ramp did he turn and see Koska pointing at him, "short-circuiting." Did he groan and walk up into the ship, ignoring the woman.

While he desperately wanted to let his son know that he was alright, he would not beg for the codes immediately. He wanted to get his armor cleaned and polished, his cloak washed, and a correct-size flight suit put on. Which, luckily, Axe of all people had bought for him. Annoyingly, the man refused to take reimbursement.

Once presentable, he called Grogu on the ship's holoprojector. Immediately seeing his normally green child in the projector's shade of blue. Grogu's ears were bouncing so much that Din imagined the boy beginning to fly. "Hey kid, I just wanted to call and let you know I am alright," receiving babbles and what Din could only assume was a hug as Grogu moved forward to the screen and put his whole body on the camera on their end. He chuckled and spoke with mirth. "I know, buddy, thank you. You give the best hugs." His tone switched to sombre. "I only wish I could be there in person to give you one. I am really sorry I scared you like that, kid."

Grogu cooed and pulled back from the camera hug. Din proceeded to ask all the dad questions and praise his boy for doing well with the magic stuff after Grogu showed him some of what he was learning. He asked to speak to the other Jedi, "the one in black with the green laser sword."

After a few moments, the Jedi in question came into frame and introduced himself. "Hello. I am sorry I never told you my name, but I sensed you were in a vulnerable state. "My name is Luke Skywalker," Din reciprocated, "I am Din Djarin." Luke asked Din if he was feeling better, to which he was. Luke began complimenting Grogu's abilities: "I have never experienced anything like it, projecting oneself across the galaxy like that."

Din was understandably confused and asked what he meant. Luke explained what he and Grogu did to the best of his understanding. Din was truly astonished. His mind raced as he processed Luke's words, realizing the depth of Grogu's potential. "I had no idea he could do something so extraordinary," Din replied, his voice filled with awe and newfound respect for the little one. Luke explained it was likely due to the strong bond the two had. And that, from what Luke had learned about the old order, they would have shunned such an attachment. "Ahsoka mentioned that his attachment to me could lead him down a dark path. Is he?"

Grogu then leapt onto Luke's shoulder, grasping into the man's hair perhaps a tad too tightly, but the Jedi pretended that he didn't mind.

"No, Din, from what I felt, Grogu's attachment to you has kept him in the light. You consistently went back for him when no one else in his life did. To your own physical detriment at times. It is my belief that Grogu will stay in the light because of you. I know from personal experience that love between father and son can bring someone towards the light side, even from the depths of the dark side." He said while gently touching Grogu's ear, seeming to comfort both the child and himself.

"I know from your last call you want to formally adopt Grogu, and I think that is a great idea. If you can send me information about teaching Mandalorian children, I will implement it into his training. He must honour his Mandalorian heritage as much as his Jedi heritage." Luke asked.

Din's eyes glistened under his helmet, and he awkwardly asked, "Of course, may I ask for some lightsaber teaching information as well?" Luke's eyes widened. "Ah, I remember something about a Darksaber from the last call."

That's when Bo-Katan made herself known, moving into the room. Din should be angry that she has intruded on time with his son and his son's teacher, but she is more knowledgeable on this topic than he is. While he had hoped to keep his training with the Darksaber a secret for now, she seemed unbothered by Din wanting to learn to wield the blade properly. He has used it a few times now, but it felt wrong. Too heavy when still, too unbalanced in motion. He has been using it like a vibro-sword, but his attacks are not refined, constantly leaving him open to counterattack.

She explained the history of the Darksaber, what it meant to the Mandalorian people, and thus Din's current circumstances and why he had to call last time. She seemed glad when she said she could train him on the forms she used when she wielded the blade, startling Din slightly. But she was open to the ideas on traditional Jedi techniques, as Ahsoka only taught her Shien and Djem So that she learned from Anakin and Soresu, she learned from Obi-Wan. Luke was taken aback at this information.

Luke obviously needed to talk to the woman whom he had now learned was trained by his father and one of his masters.

Luke decides to begin to end the call, trading comm information with Din, and would send lightsaber information to Din and Bo-Katan once compiled.

Once back at the base on Vor Deo. Din settles into a new routine over the coming months. He decides to follow Bo-Katan's advice and leaves his room more often.

Joining the Nite Owls' training sessions during the mornings, he quickly finds himself immersed in their rigorous drills. He knew they were far better at the rising phoenix than he was, and it showed. His jetpack training was sparse, as they could not reveal themselves and had to preserve fuel. But the Nite Owls had plenty of both, so he learned quite a lot. While not consciously deciding to, he seemed to spar with Axe Woves fairly often, or the other command staff. Whenever a lower-ranked Mandalorian would fight him, they barely stood a chance. However, Din would always offer a hand up and pointers on their mistakes, which seemed to be appreciated more often than not.

He would join Koska in the mess hall, not eating with them in the early days of returning. But over the months, he begins to feel comfortable enough to raise his helmet slightly to drink Pog soup or caff from a cup. Only getting mildly irritated when he caught people staring as he did so. He was perplexed when he overheard Koska mutter, "Better tell Boss about the stache," curious as to why Bo-Katan would need to know.

The boss in question joined them the following day. And only gave a quick side glance. She asked him if he was allowed to do so while eating, and Din responded, "Did you see my face? No, you saw at most my chin and maybe my lips, depending on the angle. nothing more. I don't feel like I have broken the creed by doing what you told me to do."

Receiving a questioning look from her, he answered with the "hang around" order she gave him, and she smiled. Seeming to be very happy with the effort Din is making.

She was EXTRA happy when he asked to join her in the afternoons. Whether it be helping her with her administration work like he did before, Darksaber training, or just general sparring.

Bo-Katan’s office smelled of recycled air and fresh data-slates. Stacks of holoprojector pads and crates of reports formed precarious towers on her desk. She took her desk, and he retook the position on the couch like he did before. Between them, a galaxy of paperwork: supply requisitions, troop rosters, income and expenditure statements, disciplinary reports, and possible Mandalorian sighting intel.

“Remember,” Bo-Katan said, sliding a data-slate toward him, “we need these manifests cleared before the command staff meeting tomorrow.” Din nodded, fingers brushing the smooth surface. He told himself it was purely tactical: get to know her routines and learn her strengths and weaknesses in case this attitude of hers towards him is a long con (or so he told himself). In truth, he liked the way her brow furrowed in concentration, how her fingers danced over the commands. He would logically never refute the claim that she is a beautiful woman. Her prominent green eyes and contrasting hair are certainly pleasing to the eyes. He hated that she removed her helmet when they first met; now he didn't mind it.

Hours later, the last holopad blinked out. Bo-Katan leaned back, stretching muscles honed from years of combat. “Good work,” she said, her voice softer than he expected, but she switched straight to sarcastic mirth. “You’re getting fast enough; I might make you my secretary.”

Meeting her tone straight on, matching his tone with hers, “Koska will certainly be happy if you do. I can tell she hates paperwork." Bo-Katan laughed. 'She has a pretty laugh,' he thought before catching the thought and squandering it down. Wiping her eyes, she responded with "That she does." She, like most Mandalorians, prefers the field." She continued with "Not all of us had royal training as a child," her tone turning sombre.

Din realized she probably didn't mean to say it and thus decided not to press the matter. 'Everyone is entitled to their own pain; she is welcome to share when she feels comfortable,' he thinks. Subconsciously, he makes the decision to try and make her feel comfortable enough to share it with him.

Din reasons that she probably needs a distraction. He has seen that, like him, she tends to spiral downwards when bogged down by her negative emotions. Thus he suggests, "Spar?"

Bo-Katan looks up at him, smiles once more, but it does not reach her eyes. She knows what he is trying to do and is thankful that he is making an effort for her sake. Nodding her acceptance, the two walk in silence towards a training area that they have been using inside the cruiser. Most of the Nite Owl trainings have been housed inside the base, as the base's training space is far larger, and thus the cruisers' training area is normally empty.

She, without warning, grabs the spear from his back and darts into the space, dropping to an appropriate sparring stance. “Show me what you've got today, shiny boy.” Din draws the Darksaber, its black blade humming to life in Din’s hand. Din slotted into a standard Djem So stance from the videos Luke had sent. While he would like to wield the blade in one hand so he could have his main hand free for his blaster, it still felt too heavy to do so.

Bo-Katan struck first; Din blocked the first attack and ducked under the backhand attack that followed. Soon, measured thrusts and parries echoed off metal walls. Bo-Katan’s strikes were as precise and elegant as they were rapid and deadly. Din’s style was raw and powerful, every swing fueled by instinct and resolve. His stamina with the blade had increased dramatically since they began practising.

At one point, Din feinted low. Bo-Katan countered with a spin, stepping so close their helmets almost touched. Staying there for longer than normal. “You’re holding back,” he said. She hesitated, jaw tightening. “Maybe I want you to think I am,” before she spun once more, sweeping Din's feet, causing him to tumble on the training mat. She placed the heel of the spear on his ka'rta (diamond thingy in the center of the chest). "Maybe I just wanted to see you up close and then below me."

Din blinked. The air between them shifted. Tension laced with something more intimate. He caught himself wanting to quip something like, "Well, the view does look better from down here." But he reminded himself, 'She’s only testing me,' and 'She’s just grateful for someone to train with.'

The silence lasted long enough for Din to notice her embarrassment. Unknown to him, she failed to catch her quip before she said it out loud. She lifted the spear off his chest before turning around, hiding her face from Din. He began to clamber off the floor as his comm began to blare.

He looked at her once more, her red ears poking out of her ginger hair. Deciding to give her a moment, he answered. "Din, it's Koska. We have had a guy roll up on a speeder claiming he knows you."

That was concerning on multiple levels. They had placed motion sensors to detect anything heading towards the base from miles away, so they were prepared for an attack. Given that he and Bo-Katan did not know about it until now, it meant that the Nite Owls tried to deal with it on their own. And also, someone coming looking for him is almost always a bad sign.

Bo-Katan leaned over towards his com, and he angled it towards her. "What does he look like?" Koska took a second, "bald white guy with a ginger beard." Won't shut the kriff up."

Din shook his head and looked at Bo-Katan, the tension between them barely lingering, and their pauldrons almost touched. He answers, "its Migs Mayfeld."

Chapter Text

As Din and Bo-Katan approached the room, they could hear the man talking. She has never heard anyone so annoying; he has warmed up to the man, but not by much.

Bo-Katan wished she had kept her helmet on so she could lower the volume, but alas, she thought it was prudent to show her face as the leader of the Nite Owls to this Migs Mayfeld from Din's past. She needed to look into the person's eyes and judge whether or not the man could be trusted.

The doors opened, and the man's voice carried, but from the few words she immediately caught, it seemed he was telling some embellished story about "Mando." Assuming this Mando is Din, she could guess the Nite Owls would fall for his tale hook, line, and sinker. He has done some deeds worthy of holo-movies. She had to give Din credit, but whatever the bald man was saying was likely a lie, as Mayfeld made it seem like the two men were close friends, but given she had not heard about him from Din yet, they couldn't be that close.

The man seemed to notice the door opening, turned, and looked straight at Din. "Mando! I see you found the cruiser. Where's that green wamp rat of yours?"

If Bo-Katan were not standing right next to Din, she would not have heard the man audibly trip up on the words that would have been a greeting. She turned to look at Din and noted his whole posture was tense. And he seemed like he had reverted back into himself for the days after they had claimed the cruiser. Thus, deciding to answer for him, "The child's kin found us and took him into their care," and then deciding to change the topic by going on the verbal offensive. "And he is not Mando," making air quotes with her free hand. "He has a name, I will have you know Mando is a derogatory term against our people, and given that you are in a room full of other Mandalorians, his name will have to suffice," turning to Din. "Right?"

Din was thankful that she had taken charge of this conversation. His relationship with Mayfeld has been tenuous at best. While Din appreciated the man deeply for his actions on Morak. And respected what the man did, despite the unnecessary gunfight that ensued. But Din's time with Ran's crew was toxic, to say the least.

With Bo-Katan taking charge, Din had the opportunity to reboot. Extending his hand to Migs, "Djarin, my name is Din Djarin." The two men met in a handshake, Migs' face plastered with confusion. "Wait, is that your first or last name?" That piqued the Nite Owls' attention. She and Koska started calling him Djarin, as they were not close enough for first names, but they began to swap to Din after a while. If they had it around the wrong way, then that could explain some of the slightest bit of his awkward behavior at the beginning of his time with them.

Din seemed hesitant to answer but relented under the immense social pressure. "First name, my home planet placed emphasis on our family name first and our given name second. But given that most don't know about it. Within Mandalorians, I have gone by Din, which is fine. And given that I have gone by Mando for outsiders for so long, I don't mind if you keep calling me that," noting the shock on the Nite Owls that were barefaced, including Bo-Katan and Koska.

Mayfeld let go of Din's hand, looked up like he was contemplating the idea of calling him by his name, and looked down to give Din the once-over. "Nah. Honestly, you find the fiercest women. You seem to be a magnet for them. While this one" indicating to Bo-Katan with his thumb "doesn't seem like that crazy Twi Xi'an, if you're hanging with her, I'm sure she's just as deadly, so I choose life and will come up with a new nickname for you. Sad to hear about the kid, though. Good that he's with his own kind now, I guess."

Din gave him a nod. Bo-Katan filed away the information about Xi'an under things to ask Din later. Or ask Axe to coax it out of him with his 'feed Din so much booze he'll soften up to the rest of us' plan. Bo-Katan liked that the man knew she was deadly, as it should keep him in check.

"Well, I must ask, why are you here?" It can't surely be to spread the word of Din's youthful misdeeds. While I would love a debrief on that topic. We could have killed you for approaching our base, so it must be a matter of importance," Bo-Katan said, driving the conversation to the point.

"Right you are." Mayfeld then pulled something out of his pocket and chucked it to Din, who caught it with two hands. Bo-Katan peered over and saw that it was a drive. "Dune caught me a few weeks back. On there is the payment and crumbs of information extracted from Gideon. You said you'd know the passwords. Something like where the two of you met and the name of a beautiful krill farmer. Because again, for a man who never shows his face, the ladies seem to love you. You have to tell me your secret one of these days."

Din looked up at the man and, with an amused smile that no one could see, said, "Yeah, the secret is to shut the kriff up." Minimal words add to the whole mystique," causing everyone in the room to laugh except Mayfeld. Who simply said, "Not funny, Mando!"

It was time for a late meal, so Mayfeld joined the Mandalorians for dinner in the mess hall. Telling them how he and Mando met excluded most of the jobs they did under Ran, but included how Din got him arrested and then freed him after Morak. Most ignored the term, seeing that it was from a place of friendship rather than malice. Bo-Katan was surprised that Mayfeld helped find the location of Gideon's—now their—cruiser. He did not shy away from his former imperial past, stressing that he had nothing to do with the Mandalorians burning shit and that it was FORMER, as that part of his life was behind him. He was too busy getting backstabbed by the empire on the other side of the galaxy for that.

Din peeled away from the crowd as they ate. He had an arrangement that the chef would send a proper meal to his room for him to eat in private. Din went to Bo-Katan's office to find his personal datapad. Downloading the data, Cara had opened up a bank account under Din's name. With a balance that made Din feel like a king—well, more of a king than he actually is. He sent through a copy of the Gideon intel to Bo-Katan; she asked for it, but they can go through the intel later. For after that spar, his stomach was growling like a krayt dragon.

He barely got enough time to enjoy his meal before he heard banging on his door. "Hey Djarin, it's Axe. We've got new orders." Din slotted his helmet back on and opened his door. He saw Koska, Axe, Mayfeld, and a couple of other Nite Owls he vaguely recognized. Mayfeld put his arm over Din's shoulders. "Come on, Mando, your orders are to show me to the nearest cantina and for all of us to get plastered to celebrate the downfall of Gideon."

Din must have seemed to be preparing an excuse or rebuttal before Koska piped in with, "Can't weasel your way out of it." Bo-Katan's orders... well, more of a punishment for almost dying on us AGAIN." Thus, Din was basically dragged by Mayfeld and Axe to the hangar. Chucked in a landspeeder, sandwiched between the two other Nite Owls, and driven at high speeds towards the nearest town rather than the village Din scouted previously.

Axe and Mayfeld seemed to get along, mainly because they were making fun of Din. The other two seemed to be in some sort of mood. Quiet, to the point of almost grumpy. Din guessed that they, like him, were being punished like he was. Until the woman leaned over to him and whispered to him, "We're here to make sure you four don't get into any trouble," then pointing at Axe and Koska, "They're known to get a bit rowdy with whatever locals when they get drunk." Ah, so they are not here for him. Good to know.

The Mandalorians + Mayfeld arrived in town and parked the landspeeder near the cantina. Axe and Koska strolled in like they owned the place, followed by Din and Mayfeld and the two other night owls. Din watched as the first two strolled right up to the bar, plopped down a decent amount of credits, enough for a few rounds, and Axe asked for "local ale, please; keep them coming and let us know when this runs out." Thank you." 'At least the man has some manners,' Din thinks before internally groaning, 'This is going to be a long night.'

The cantina on Veo Dor pulsed with a low, neon haze and the scent that permeates every cantina. Drunk people, alcohol, puke, and often spice. The group sat at a scarred, metal table in the corner, which Din liked, as he could scan those coming in and those already inside. No threats would escape his watch. Despite his usual resistance to imbibing in public, Din found himself unwillingly drawn into the raucous energy of the establishment. His companions, already several flagons deep into the local ale, had practically dragged him over with knowing grins and playful shoves.

“Come on, Djarin—sorry, Din,” Koska prodded as she corrected herself. She slid a dented tankard in front of him. “Even a lone wolf needs to loosen up once in a while.”

Din’s voice was low and reluctant. “I haven’t chosen to be here; it was Lady Kryze's orders, right?” he muttered, his tone betraying his discomfort and confusion.

Mayfeld, perched on the edge of his own table with a twinkle in his eye, grinned broadly. "Oh, it's 'LADY Kryze,' is it?" in a mocking tone reserved for friends. He chuckled, his laughter infectious despite the rough edges of his humor.

Koska and Axe, both on high alert even in this informal setting, exchanged glances. Their orders from Bo-Katan were clear: they needed to coax snippets of Din’s past from him, especially anything about his long-kept love life. The sizzling undercurrent of curiosity made the ale taste even stronger as they hovered around him like inquisitive hawks.

They eagerly watched as Din begrudgingly tipped his helmet and drank the whole ale in one go. He barely saw Axe slide Koska some credits that he guessed were winnings from some sort of bet.

They watched his behavior, and when he didn't appear drunk, they prodded Mayfeld. They thought they were being subtle. "Who's Xi'an?" They were obviously not. Mayfeld choked on his ale slightly. Axe's unexpected question threw him off guard.

Mayfeld looked at Din, who shook his head. “Oh, come on, don't be so coy. "I distinctly remember you mentioning something during one mission," Mayfeld began. He turned to the owls and described Xi'an as this crazy Twi'lek who was enamoured with Mando. She had a thing for knives, and he imagined she was down for anything with Mando. He emphasised her craziness to the point of some sort of incestuous relationship with her brother. Mayfeld knew Mando was not into that at all.

"Well, they can't have that type of relationship now," Din said before he caught himself. Upon receiving the confused looks, Din explained how, when their last mission to retrieve her brother went bad, the Republic beacon went off. He delivered Qin to Ran, got paid, and then got out of there before the X-wings showed up and blew them all to Mustafar.

The group burst into boisterous laughter while Din’s jaw tightened beneath his helmet. His mind raced with a storm of conflicting emotions. He’d convinced himself that distancing his emotions was the easiest path to survival, that any hint of vulnerability was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Yet, even now, the memories stirred uneasily beneath his scarred exterior.

But he somewhat liked sharing and talking. He started really talking with Grogu and was happy that Bo-Katan basically ordered him to talk more and share. 'Need to pay her back for that, if not helping me spar,' he thought. Then got bogged down in the memory of her flirt? 'No, she was just being friendly, right?' His thoughts now betray him as he is completely confused. There was what he could only describe as a moment between them. 'Surely it's just a coincidence, nothing more,' he reasoned.

The air in the cantina felt charged with more than just the fizziness of the ale. Din was never a lightweight, but he knows the poison has done something to his liver, so perhaps his tolerance needed more time to recover. 'I've only had 3 ales,' he thinks to himself.

Koska asks about how he met Boba Fett. Din ignored the flash of scorn on her and Axe's faces. Focusing on the flash of fear from Mayfeld's. Din told them about Freetown, the Tuskans, and the Krayt Dragon. They laughed when he said he had asked Boba if he was a Jedi when they first met.

Mayfeld asked about how he met Marshal—now Ranger Dune. Din skirted the question, "I'm not telling you the password, so no planet details." Din continued with the story of meeting her in the cantina, them thinking they were hunting each other, fighting, and then defending a krill farm from the raiders with the AT-ST walker. Explaining the rather simple way they took them out.

Koska and Axe kept asking for the krill farmer's name every chance they got during the story. Din couldn't help himself from his growing irritation. "Omera, OKAY! Her name was Omera; she was a widow with a daughter and was very pretty, but it was never anything. Despite what Cara thinks. The hunters came for the kid, so I couldn't stay anyway," he exclaimed.

Din did not see Koska hand her previously won credits back to Axe under the table. But I did see a glimpse of irritation on her face as she did so. Thinking whatever her thing is with bounty hunters is the cause.

As the evening wore on and the ale flowed more freely, the conversations grew louder and the teasing more persistent. Mayfeld never missed an opportunity to regale the group with outlandish, tongue-in-cheek stories of his own past escapades across star systems. His animated retelling of a mishap involving a mistaken identity at a spice market had everyone laughing until tears formed at the corners of their eyes.

Mayfeld also talked about Morak. Skipping the fact that he saw Din's face to his surprise. Shortening that whole section of the encounter with his former superior officer, who was a real "piece of banthashit," saying for Mayfeld to sleep at night, he just had to shoot the man on sight. Din was thankful Mayfeld did not tell the Nite Owls about how he sat there with his helmet off for minutes before Mayfeld got his revenge. Leading to the shootout.

Something shifted in that moment. Mainly in Mayfield, the man slapped his thighs and stood up. "Well, I guess I have to be going. Can't stay in one place too long. "You know, dead man and all," he said to Din. Before beginning to walk to the cantina exit.

Before he crossed the boundary of the exit, he leaned back and turned towards the group, his eyes sparkling in the lantern light, and he grinned in that familiar roguish way.

"See you around, Brown Eyes.”

Chapter Text

After Koska and Axe briefed her on the events in the cantina, Bo was at a loss for what to do with the new information. She had no idea where the need for the information came from. Koska had some idea and was humorous in nature, while Axe had the completely wrong idea.

In the time since the poisoning incident, she had caught herself imagining what Din looked like under that silver helm. She knew he had olive-toned skin and dark hair based on the moustache she personally confirmed after a gossip report from Koska. But now, with a possible eye colour, she began wondering what his other facial features looked like. She would guess that his hair was a messy mop based on the fact that he probably didn't trim it much, based on the helmet. But he might, given he has a well-maintained stache.

The subsequent 2 weeks of frequent spars, darksaber training, or administration assistance did not help. At times, they seemed joined at the hip, barring meals and the occasional time he joined the wider community events or trainings. She did not mind the closeness, just the offhand comments she would overhear. The comments were not demeaning for the most part, but rather supportive of him and of the rumours of a relationship between them.

Din had not been with them for a full rotation yet. She remembers how adamantly against him she was when he first arrived, but is both perplexed and glad at their change in attitude towards him at the same time.

She decides to ignore the comments, if not ask Axe or Koska to find the source of the rumour that they are together, but she guesses that the origin would likely be Koska herself.

Bo decides to focus on unpacking the intelligence the New Republic has extracted from Gideon. It was not much, which was to be expected. He was a high-level imperial officer, after all, but what was given almost made Bo suspect that they withheld information. She had privately messaged Dune, who confirmed that this was all they got, as the hut'uun (coward) had resisted most interrogation techniques that even by Dune's standards were lacking.

The information was mainly the locations of a few bases, including the Vor Deo base that was already found and occupied. Mainly in the outer rim with no real reason for a true high-level officer to be there, and therefore the New Republic did not care, nor have the proper resources to deal with them.

Bo thought that if the bases had similar riches to this base, then they could be extremely useful for the Mandalorian cause. But at this point in time, they were not desperate for credits. Due to capturing the Vor Deo base, they had shelter and weapons, and with the sale of various valuables, they had plenty to maintain their current supplies of food, water, and fuel.

But Bo worried about stagnation. Bored Mandalorians were never a good thing, but they were admittedly too small in number to retake their homeworld if there was still imperial occupation of some sort.

So during one afternoon when she and Din were coming through the administration work (which was done quickly due to Din's help as he was now familiar with some of her methods), she asked, "Din, you've been with us for a while now. What do you think of us?"

She purposefully left the wording of the question to be as ambiguous as possible; "us" could mean various things. The Nite Owls, Mandalorians, command staff…… her.

Din's helmet looked up, the universal sign of one who is thinking, before looking back down at the datapad. He took a deep breath in before speaking.

"It's different. All I have ever known is the way. I was raised with it, surrounded by those who followed it. Then I met Grogu, who began to open my eyes to what was outside of the life. I think before him, I viewed life like it was… grey or tinted, like how the visor darkens the world slightly. He showed me what green was. Then I met you. I was so angry that you removed your helmet. My ingrained teachings named you apostates, if not heretics, to be shunned and condemned. Your words that day did not help."

She was about to interrupt and apologize before he raised his hand and continued.

"But you helped me rescue him, and by making me stay, in a way, you rescued me. After Grogu left, I was broken, and probably on some deep level still am. Trying to figure out the Darksaber business has given me some purpose, but we still haven't really talked about it. Just been going from one thing to the next or going through the motions."

He paused, sighing because he realized he had not answered her question. Or at least his interpretation of her question.

"So, admittedly, I was distrustful in the beginning and still find it strange you all are so nice to me because by all accounts you shouldn't. But I do not hate you or the Nite Owls anymore; honestly, I probably never truly did. You have opened my eyes to a greater Mandalorian society and the complex history and politics that precede it. I think I can trust you all, but I have more questions than I have answers.

He finally looks up at her and says, "Questions that only my Goran (armorer) can answer."

She pondered his words, forcing her face not to show any emotion (which, admittedly, was slight disappointment). They had discussed what had happened on Nevarro, and that he knows his armorer is alive. For Goran would be extremely useful in their cause. They had no way to reforge the beskar that was recovered when Din took the base and was currently sitting in a vault inside the cruiser.

She knew Din was a deeply religious man; she respected him for his beliefs but blamed herself for being the cause of them.

Thinking that he has just been honest about his thoughts and confusions, she decided to do the same.

"Din, I have to be honest with you. I am partly the reason for your covert isolation."

Din was about to interject, but she repeated the same hand-raise gesture that he did moments ago. Taking a deep breath in but finding herself unable to lift her eyes from her desk, she continued.

"Din, I called you a child of the watch." I have provided you with a rundown of Mandalorian history, including information about the Kyr'tsad (Death Watch). But I neglected to include my part in it."

She shifted in her chair. She normally sits projecting some regal authority. Her posture is perfect except when she takes herself out of "alor" (leader) mode. She now pulled her legs to her chest, and her arms pulled them into a hug.

"Din after the Mandalorian Civil Wars, Mandalore was still split into various factions, and those who followed the warrior path were exiled from Manda'yaim (the planet Mandalore). I hated my sister's pacifist agenda and political stance as a result of the civil wars and the Kyr'tsad (death watch) being responsible for my father's death. I was placed under Pre Vizsla's care and, per his… 'instructions,' chose the warrior's path."

She hesitated to find the word but settled on "instructions." Din guessed that she had little choice in the matter, as her hesitation, protective posture, and emotional voice portrayed a history of abuse. Din was familiar with the signs. He knew Bo-Katan had trauma from her past, as most Mandalorians do. But to find out that her childhood was full of turmoil made Din want to reach out and hug her. He only held himself back as he did not know if that is what she needs or wants from him right now. So he stayed still and listened.

"I was trained to fight, to uphold the traditions of our people, even if it meant turning my back on everything my sister stood for. I joined the group of warriors Vizsla was in charge of. Not knowing at the time that it was the Kyr'tsad. But he had years to indoctrinate me into their way of thinking. By the time of the Clone Wars, I was his second in command, despite being around 14".

Din was shocked at how young she was to be in that position. Generally, most Mandalorian warriors are around 13 when they complete their Verd'goten. Which is the traditional trial/ritual to become an adult? For her to be at that level of rank, she must have been 'instructed' by Pre from an extremely young age.

"In the final year of the Clone Wars, Death Watch was no better than a terrorist organisation. We attacked Mandalore multiple times. He even ordered me to bomb my father's memorial. I always hated him for that. When Vizsla picked up two Dathomirian Zabraks, DESPITE my warnings and objections. Those two turned Death Watch into something even darker."

She shuddered at the thought. But could not contain her anger at the man's name.

"Maul. He and his brother used Death Watch to consolidate the criminal syndicates under their rule, and Vizsla used them to assault Mandalore so he could depose my sister and her rule. We succeeded, and Pre, with the rights to that blade, was named Mand'alor."

Bo-Katan pointed to the Darksaber on Din's belt.

"Until Maul predictably challenged Pre. With his darjetii (Sith) powers, he won. But I was never going to follow Maul, and Vizsla was finally dead. So I took the Nite Owls, and we splintered off. Starting a new civil war between us and what was later unofficially named the Mandalorians. And I wasn't going to follow him ESPECIALLY after he murdered my sister with that damn blade"

Din was confused as to where she was going with her explanation. He had seen a wide range of emotions, from sadness and vulnerability to pure rage at the mention of the Darjetii's name.

"After Vizsla died, I contacted the various pockets of Death Watch we had scattered throughout the galaxy. Informing them of his death. I had urged them to come to my aid so we could rid ourselves of the aruetiise (outsiders). I ordered those who were not joining us to go into hiding. Deep hiding, for they would have been hunted by Maul's forces.

Bo-Katan finally looked up at Din. He could see her eyes were red with tears, but she was obviously fighting them from falling and sniffling to affect her words.

"One of these groups was your tribe. So, Din, I am the reason your tribe believes secrecy is your survival, for I am the one who started it."

Din could no longer hold back. He stood up abruptly, causing her to jump. Din walked over to her slowly. Bent over slightly and pulled her into a hug.

"So, you are the reason we were ready for the empire," he said softly.

She was resistant to his words and his sudden embrace. But it was exactly what she needed.

She was a warrior and a leader and had to always project strength and independence. She never allowed herself to be weak. To be vulnerable. She never felt safe expressing her emotions in front of others, preferring to do so in the solace of her own room. So the unexpectedly warm hug from Din was nice.

They stayed like that for a long silence. Only occasionally disturbed when her sniffles escaped his shoulder. She noted that he was not exempt from the emotion in the moment, but his beskar hid much of his reaction.

He knew she was regent before the purge.

He knew her desire for redemption through obtaining the darksaber.

He thought he knew her reasons before. But now he has a much better picture.

He should hate her, be angry with her. Condemn her for her past actions. But he thought that was what she wanted him to do.

But she was blaming herself for actions and decisions made when she was barely an adult.

"You are the reason we survived. Bo, I do not blame you."

He used her nickname. The nickname her family and occasionally Ahsoka used, and ONLY them.

If it were anyone else, she would be furious and start hitting and screaming at him. But it was nice. It was nice to hear someone acknowledge her struggle without judgment, to feel a sense of understanding rather than condemnation.

She pulled back first, opening one of the drawers in her desk. Revealing tissues and various makeup supplies. She pulled a tissue and blew her nose. She hesitantly offered one to Din, who meekly took it. She turned around so he could remove his helmet.

She decided to focus on another drawer. Pulling out two glasses and one of the Corellian whiskeys, she enjoyed. Pouring into the two glasses, she heard he was finished and managed to throw his used tissue into the bin by his feet.

"Well, after that, I need a drink, and I have been told drinking alone is a bad idea, so will you join me and discuss what we need to do going forward?" Holding both glasses in her hand, she extended her left towards him and her right towards the couch. Her words are a well-practised excuse that barely conceals deep sadness. The words sound routine, almost detached, yet internally they call for the connection she secretly craves.

Din nodded, and she decided not to pressure him into words as she ignored how scratchy her voice sounded.

They strolled over to the worn leather couch. They sat on opposite sides like a delicate, invisible wall built from the weight of Bo-Katan’s revelations formed between the two.

Bo-Katan sits firmly but hesitantly, her gaze alternating between the whiskey bottle on the side table and the man who has become a reluctant drinking companion. Din, still in his helmet, appears as steadfast as ever. Making her inner turmoil worse until he tips his helmet up to drink before her.

Memories of brutal orders and unspeakable actions haunt her, and every line on her face seems to carry that burden. Yet tonight, a fragile desire to abandon the solitude of regret compels her to reach for comfort with someone who must trust her (otherwise he would not tip his helmet or be in the same room as her) and gave her a kindness she has never shown herself in regard to her past actions.

Din remains quiet on his usual side of the couch, his posture defensive yet contemplative. In the months spent alongside the Nite Owls, he has learned in subtle glances and passing remarks that there is more to Bo-Katan than the stern facade of command.

Though Din carries his own burdens, his focus on the present is clear. The whiskey burned as it slid down his throat, warming him from the inside out.

The silent distance they keep on the couch speaks volumes; it is not rejection but a careful guard that has yet to be lowered completely. Her excuse, delivered with a fleeting smile, resonates even amidst his habitual reserve. A quiet humor slips into his eyes as memories of shared sparring sessions and the not-so-subtle recent training hall quip crop to life.

Din had seen at least some of her secrets and now understood her more than before. She had grown to be someone he could trust. He glanced over at her, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and for the first time, he felt a sense of ease in sharing this moment with someone else.

Bo-Katan still battles the sting of regret from her Death Watch past. A past that obviously still haunts her. In the aftermath of her confession, her sorrow is palpable. But he gathers that she does not want to talk about it anymore and rather favours other topics.

She asks questions about Din. About his upbringing, what it was like. Who was there to see if she recognized any names? She asked what he liked or didn't like about it. She also asked about Aq Vetina. What he remembers is what it was like before the droids came. She was curious if he ever went back, but was understanding when he admitted it was too painful to return.

He felt a sense of relief wash over him as they settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, sharing stories that revealed their vulnerabilities. Softened by the strong liquor.

There is no grand romantic moment, only the simple act of sitting together as warriors sharing a rare moment of reprieve.

After a while, Bo-Katan seemed to have recovered emotionally from her previous confession. She began to recount past battles to lighter tales of misadventure among the Nite Owls. Occasionally, Koska’s and Axe’s earlier probing is evident in half-joking queries about old loves or stories he told in the cantina, but even these are met with guarded humor.

The whiskey bottle slowly empties as both warriors share quiet moments of confession and subtle teasing. While Bo-Katan’s voice remains low and measured, it carries a softened edge.

Din’s responses are gentle reminders that strength comes not only from discipline but also from the willingness to accept vulnerability (even if it’s hidden behind a helmet).

The invisible wall seemingly gone, the chasm between them smaller as Din noticed the physical gap between them on the couch had decreased.

When the last drop of whiskey was consumed, her ability to stop her words seemed evident as she jokingly asked, "So, brown eyes, huh?"

Din gulped; he looked at her. The dim light in the room highlighted the flecks of gold in her eyes as she waited for his response, a small smile playing on her lips. Despite the armor he wore, Din felt exposed under her gaze, realizing that vulnerability was not a weakness but a connection they shared.

He cleared his throat, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the whiskey. "Yeah, brown eyes," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Her smile grew. "And a moustache? Now that was unexpected." But it suited him, adding a rugged charm to his otherwise stoic demeanour. The tension in the room seemed to dissipate as they both chuckled, breaking down the walls that had been between them.

After their laughter dies down, Din explains he keeps his facial hair to honor the memory of his father. It was a way for him to carry a piece of his father with him, a silent tribute to the man who had taught him so much. He explained that he was forgetting what they looked like. And almost slipped up, revealing that he had seen them in his Ka'ra vision.

Bo-Katan began talking about her father. Adonai Kryze. All the things she remembered of him were admittedly little, as it was evident she was very young when he died. She spoke of his bravery, his wisdom, and his dedication to Mandalore. Bo-Katan's eyes sparkled with pride as she shared stories of his leadership and honor, painting a vivid picture of the man she had lost too soon. She distractedly began to lean on Din's shoulder but would animatedly gesture with her arms to emphasise her point. At some point, Din admitted, "I would have liked to have known him." He sounds like a great man."

"He died in service to Mandalore, to his people," she said, unthinkingly leaning into Din further.

Din put his arm around her, his hand landing on her opposite shoulder. Almost encouraging her to seek comfort in his arms, he simply said, "This is the way." Honouring her father, whom he had never met, in the only way he knew how.

Bo-Katan looked up at him, seeing a sliver of skin between his helmet and flight suit. She couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with Din in that moment, knowing that he understood the weight of sacrifice and duty. As she gazed at him, she realized that beneath the armor, he was just as vulnerable as anyone else.

Din has just spoken a few quiet words in honor of Bo-Katan’s father. A soft, solemn tribute that hangs heavy between them on the dimly lit couch. The air in the room feels charged, as if every heartbeat echoes the weight of legacy and loss. In that fragile moment, when vulnerability and duty converge, Bo-Katan allows herself an unexpected impulse.

Unable to stop or hold back, likely due to the alcohol. She leaned up towards his neck. And pressed her lips to that sliver of skin in a gentle kiss.

Din freezes, caught, if only for a heartbeat, by the delicate contact. Ever the stoic warrior, his body tenses involuntarily; his hand that had rested on her shoulder tightens. Almost encouraging her on. She does it again, shifting into his body. The warmth of her breath against his skin sends a shiver down his spine, igniting a spark of something unfamiliar yet undeniable. In that moment, the boundaries between them blur, and the weight of their shared history becomes a bridge to something new and uncharted.

He manages to croak out, "Bo... Close your eyes," his voice barely above a whisper.

That use of her name reserved for so few again should snap her out of her current mood, fury replacing arousal. But it doesn't.

Instead, she pulls back to look at him through his visor. And slowly closes her eyes. Ensuring that he knows she has and that she values the trust she thinks he is giving her.

She hears the sound of fabric as his arm, which was not firmly on her shoulder, bends. She hears his fingers make contact with his helmet. That released with a soft click. Din stopped pressurizing his helmet after the first glass. He takes a deep breath, his voice muffled as he speaks through the helmet. "I trust you," he says simply, before she could feel him in the air shift closer to her.

He is only holding her in one arm. 'He must be holding up his helmet,' she thinks, her thoughts whizzing through her head at lightspeed. She feels a surge of warmth at his words, knowing the weight of his trust in her. The closeness of his presence sends a shiver down her spine, a mix of nerves and excitement.

And then she feels his breath against her cheeks. It's warm and comforting, making her heart race even faster. If her eyes were not already closed, she might have done that in this moment.

As she felt his lips make contact with hers.

He just kissed her.

Chapter Text

Din stirs awake. His head throbs with pain, and the sliver of light peering under the door makes his eyes ache.

He looks around the room, noting that it is not his familiar quarters. It is much larger. He quickly notes that he is without his helmet. He usually removes it to sleep now, after he pins the door from opening with his spear. His left arm finds the edge of his side of the bed, so he looks to the left.

'Thank the Manda,' he thinks as he sees his silver helmet on the bedside table. He goes to reach over but feels a weight on his right that he did not have the awareness to notice.

Din peers down at his right and sees Bo-Katan lying on him, her whole body wrapped around him, and his arm numb from her head resting on it. She had the sheets pulled up to her neck so he could not tell if she was dressed or not. He was torn.

He hoped for his sake she was dressed, but also wanted her not to be. The dichotomy weighed on his soul. He hated the thought of if he took advantage of her vulnerable state..

He manages to stretch over to his helmet, trying his hardest to reach it while not disturbing her. She looked like she was still in deep sleep, but he guessed that would not be the case for long.

He needed to get his helmet on ASAP.

He had no idea what her reaction to this situation would be. Would she be angry? Did they do anything? If they did, did she consent?

Din focuses on getting his helmet, but it was just out of reach. He wondered if and how he should get out of this situation. While they drank a lot, he had no clear memory of doing anything with her. The last thing he remembers is talking with her on the couch.

Focusing on that memory, he began to remember more and more. He remembered her talking about her father and how he sounded like a great man that Din would have likely looked up to and admired. He remembered her kissing a sliver of skin on his neck, and then him mustering up the courage to kiss her.

He was so embarrassed. He wondered if his inexperience showed. He has never kissed anyone before. Well, not like that anyway. He remembered kissing his parents on the cheeks as a child, but that was nothing compared to what they had done.

He covered his own face with his free hand, wiping downwards, trying to mask his groan at his mortification.

Looking to his right, Bo-Katan looked so content and peaceful in her sleep. She was warm next to him. The memory of her soft lips lingered on his own, making him blush even more. He couldn't believe he had finally mustered up the courage to make a move.

She began to stir. He quickly reached for the helmet once more, again out of reach. He didn't know what to do..

"Uhhh... Bo-Katan?" he asked. His voice was raspy from waking up. She was making various humming noises. She was facing him, and if she opened her eyes, she would see his face. He decided to cover her eyes somehow or block her view. He went to cover her face with his free hand, but stopped.

Mandalorian warriors are always prepared for an attack. Including in their sleep. He carefully considered his next move, not wanting to startle her. If he placed his hand on her face and she processed it as an attack, she would redoubtably retaliate, which would not solve his bare face issue. He remembered the importance of being alert at all times in their line of work.

He decides the simplest solution could be the best solution. His head was propped up by two thin pillows, so he tilted his head forward, pulling one from the stack and placing it over his face.

Thinking he had solved his immediate problem, he barely heard the muffled giggles of the woman lying next to him.

He chuckled to himself, realizing that his attempt to cover his bare face had only made things worse. The woman's laughter was contagious, and he couldn't help but join in, grateful for the lighthearted moment to break through his worried mind.

"Din, what are you doing, you ridiculous man?" she asked mid-chuckle.

He realizes she must be looking at this absurd sight and points to his helmet, redirecting her attention to the matter at hand.

A simple "oh" is all he received.

Din noticed her shifting her weight from him slightly, adding, "Eyes are closed until you say," she reassured him.

Din did place his trust in her last night. She kept her eyes closed. Well, she did, with what he remembers at least.

Deciding to trust her once more, he removes the pillow, throwing it to the foot of the bed, and reaches for his helmet. Successfully this time, thanks to the added mobility from Bo-Katan removing herself slightly. He dons his helm with a sense of relief, feeling the familiar weight settle on his head.

She hears the sound of the helmet pressurizing, but still waits for the okay. Which he gives after a few moments.

She opens her eyes to the usual visor, looking directly at her. He was not touching her, and she could now see plainly the tension in his shoulders.

"Um, did we do anything last night?" I can't remember much after the couch, sadly," Din admitted.

Bo-Katan was only a little hurt that he did not remember, because she certainly still felt it in her lower back. So she decides to play a little prank. "Din, there's no easy way to say this," shifting towards him, "because of last night," putting her hand on his bare stomach, "you're pregnant."

His confusion is evident as he looked down at her hand "What?!" he exclaimed.

She could not contain her laughter at his confusion. Keeling over for a full belly laugh. He quickly realizes the joke she just pulled, but also the fact that she is in sleep clothes becomes evident. Just a simple, plain grey top that barely covers her underwear.

Deciding to look under the covers, he notes he is in his briefs. Then turns away from her, "You got me", as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

He looks at the room and sees the scattered flight suits and pieces of beskar randomly on the floor. And stands. His knees and back strains with pain, and he almost falls over. Causing her to laugh even more.

He looks for his pants first, finding them in a pile with the rest of his clothes and begins putting them on. He has his back to her, so he does not see her watching him. Her face is in a wide grin as she admires the view of his muscular back. She appreciates the way he carries himself, even in moments of vulnerability.

He sees the chrono on the wall and notes that it's just about the time most wake up as he begins donning his beskar. He hears her footsteps as she joins him. She begins helping him fasten the beskar to his kute (bodysuit), her touch gentle yet firm.

She is helping him with a deeply intimate ritual for Mandalorians. Donning one's own armor is a sacred right. Donning another's is a sign of trust and connection between them. As she secures the last piece, she looks directly at him through the visor with a smile.

"I think Koska will notice if you walk out of there right now," she says. She is completely right, of course. The night in the cantina has given her far too much teasing ammunition against Din, and he would prefer not to give him any more.

Din looks in throughout the room, scanning with his helmet sensors. He notes a maintenance shaft like the one he crawled through the day they took the cruiser runs underneath her office, which he did not realise is attached to her room.

He turns to her and says, "Well, looks like I'm crawling my way out" She chuckles at his comment, knowing that he's not one to back down from a challenge. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she adds, "Just make sure you don't get stuck." Din smirks beneath his helmet and begins to make his way towards the maintenance shaft, ready for whatever obstacles may come his way.

He opens the hatch and jumps in, not before turning to her, saying, "Thanks for your honesty last night and the drink it was…nice"

She smiled at him, "Well, I needed to tell you, sooner rather than later"

Her words weighed on him more than she could know. The weight of the Ka'ra vision and his worry about her reaction to his acceptance of the title of Mand'alor. He knew he had a lot to think about as he descended into the darkness of the maintenance shaft, his mind racing with possibilities and uncertainties. But for now, he focused on the task at hand, determined to navigate through the shaft and not let Koska know that the two shared an intimate moment. They did not say anything about it repeating or it meaning anything. It's probably for the best they don't.

Or is it?

Chapter Text

The next few days were awkward. She obviously remembered and tried to play it off as nothing happened in front of others (especially Koska), but alone, she would joke and reference it often. Din still couldn't remember what they did, although glimpses came back to him. Like one time when they were doing admin work and he completed a form, she held out her hand in silence, and when he put the datapad in her hand, she said, "Good boy." A memory of her saying that came back to him, and he was obviously flustered.

She got a good laugh anytime he froze when a memory came back to him. He found himself self-conscious but comfortable at the same time around her. It was an odd sensation.

They decided it was best for him to try and find the armorer. So he reached out to everyone he could. It was a surprise when Fennec Shand called back first.

"Hello, Mando. We hope you are still doing well. Your back stabless?" She jokingly asked.

Feeling emboldened by his practised conversational skills over the last few months, he turned his back to the holoprojector. "No knives in it yet," he said, matching her sarcastic tone, much to the Nite Owls' chagrin.

"That's good. Well, we looked into other Mandalorian sightings like you asked, and you were right, the criminal underworld is still a very chatty bunch." She appeared to lean down and press a button on her end, transmitting coordinate information. "There have been rumors and a couple of reports of Mandalorian activity in and around the Instrop sector." The holoprojector display shifted from Fennec to a display of the sector in question on a galactic map.

"Some of the sightings have been in the Ferra, Gaulus, and Abrion sectors, but a slightly larger cluster has been in the Instrop." Each sector mentioned lit up, and the text became bold.

"One of the sleazeballs said something about red armor, but they also said they killed the rest of his crew while he hid, and the red may be blood, but we can't really go check it out." The projector re-displayed Fennec's face.

"The situation here on Tatooine is still tense. Boba and I have secured Jabba's palace and dethroned Bib Fortuna." She made air quotes around the word "dethroned," indicating clearly that he's dead and good riddance.

"The Hutts will be wanting to reclaim Jabba's territory, and Boba is trying his hand at diplomacy with the other syndicates here, but it's not going well. As the Pikes have also staked a claim after Boba robbed them with the Tuskans," she explains. Din remembers Boba telling him about the Tuskans and the massacre that befell his found tribe while they travelled in the Slave I together.

"It's not popped off just yet, but honestly, we could use more muscle, so if you decide to ditch the others, you're more than welcome to join us. We certainly pay better," she jokingly added.

From a distance behind Fennec, they hear a voice that must be Bobba's. "Is that Din?" Then he steps into frame. "Din Djarin, my friend, it is good to see you."

He then noticed Bo-Katan. "Ah, I see you are still with the princess."

Annoyed, Bo-Katan responds with "Clone."

Din gives her a look, and her eyebrows practically reach the ceiling as she gives him a scathing look back. They maintain the staredown, which Din obviously wins, as his helmet gives him a large advantage. She sighs, cools her facial expression, and looks back at the projected image.

"Boba Fett. Thank you for your intel about the Mandalorian sightings. It is greatly appreciated," her tone laced with annoyance but covered by practised diplomacy.

Boba looks at Bo-Katan and Din back and forth in shock. Fennec smirks, then she must elbow Boba in the ribs, who coughs to collect himself. "You are welcome," and grinds out "Lady Kryze." Fennec gives Boba the look.

"What?" he says, and Fennec's look of disapproval grows. "Fine. Lady Kryze, I apologize for my actions and words against you. I hope we can put this behind us and focus on the task at hand," he says.

Bo-Katan is shocked. Firstly, Fennec's control over the hardened bounty hunter who worked closely with Darth Vader. Secondly, that she got an apology from the man, which was unexpected. She was silenced, with her mouth open.

Din speaks for her. "Lady Kryze accepts your apology," looks at Bo-Katan, who begrudgingly nods. "Now, Boba, Fennec, I will make a case to the Nite Owl command for when you call for aid when you need it. Even if it's just me, I will come and help, so I cannot promise any more than that."

Fennec smiles, and Boba says, "Even with just you, we should be able to run them off the sands of Tatooine. I don't want spice or slavery on my planet any longer. I accept your terms and wish you well in your hunt for other Mandalorians, Vor entye (thank you/I accept this debt).

Din says, "No debt, my friend," and hangs up the call. He looks around at the shocked faces of the Nite Owls. "What?" he asked.

Axe takes it upon himself to give a short rundown of the history of Boba Fett. The fact that he's a clone, not a natural-born. He blew up a Republic cruiser in the attempt to kill the Jedi who killed his "donor." He was imprisoned until the rise of the Empire, where Boba became Darth Vader's personal bounty hunter until the last sighting of him was on Jabba's pleasure barge.

Din fills in the rest of the story as he knows it. Boba survived a Sarlacc pit. Jawas stole his armor, and Tuskans took him in after subjecting him to their service. How Boba earned a place in their tribe by learning and respecting their culture. How he found Fennec after Din hunted her and got her fixed up by the local Mods. How Din earned Boba's armor by killing a greater krayt dragon (that story had already spread through the Nite Owls like wildfire), and how they met on Trask. How Boba showed Din his chain code and that he was a formally adopted child of Jango Fett and his named heir. And the rest they knew.

Axe was arguing that he is barely a man, and if he were, he was not Mandalorian or to be respected.

Din argued that he had earned redemption and clarity on the sand dunes of Tatooine. And how he was a good man in Din's eyes.

Bo-Katan saw both sides. On Trask, she was firmly in Axe's camp and in many ways still is. But he knew Din saw the best in people when he could. He sees it in her, and she still thinks she doesn't deserve it. So she decides to break the argument up and put the group back on track.

"ALRIGHT. Instrop sector, right? Wasn't that Clan Awaud's old stomping ground?" she asked the group. Din took a breath and asked, "Who?"

Koska piped in with, 'Din, have you been studying the history Datapads we gave you?"

"Of course, but I have been focusing on recent history, as that is the most evident gap in the fighting corps' education," he answered.

Bo-Katan took a deep breath and began explaining. "Clan Awaud is a historic clan dating back to the old Sith wars. They were the clan of Mand'alor the Uniter, Aga Awaud, in 1051 BBY. Like all warrior clans, they were exiled by my sister's government and settled on Vlemoth Port. Living as nomadic mercenaries. Even working for the separatists. During the Empire, Clan Awaud allied themselves with the rebellion and fought at the Battle of Xorrn, suffering heavy losses. Last I heard, the clan was led by Vera Beroya, who was present at the battle, but no one has heard anything about her since."

Din processed the information. He knew about Mandalore the Uniter and should have made the connection between the real name of Aga Awaud and the clan in question. He did not like the fact that they had aligned themselves with the Confederacy, the same faction that attacked his home and murdered his parents. The heavy losses were a shame; any loss of Mandalorian life is something to be prevented (especially if he takes up the title of Mand'alor).

He looked at Bo-Katan and asked, "Do you think it's worth reaching out and finding them?"

She looked down, pulled up the sector map that Fennec had given them, and said, "Yes, I do," changing the sector in question to Mandalorian space. "With Imperials still on Mandalore, mining our planet's beskar, we need all the forces possible to retake our home. They will not fall into the Nite Owls; their history is long and should be respected. But the history with my family will be a spanner in any diplomatic work," she admits.

Koska pipes up, "What if we first spread the word that the Darksaber is in Mandalorian hands once more?"

Koska had been trying to bring that topic up at an increasing rate as of late. Normally, Din shot her down quickly, but after his Ka'ra vision, he has been hesitant.

Silence hangs in the air as it seems that those used to his usual reaction are expecting it once more. Therefore, they are surprised when he says, "I think it's actually a decent idea."

Causing many Nite Owls in the room to say "What?!" in a mixture of tones. Koska and Bo-Katan were shocked but calm. Axe and a few others reacted with anger. Axe clenched his fists, his frustration palpable as he shot a glare at Din. "Are you out of your mind?" he exclaimed, unable to comprehend how anyone could see value in such a reckless proposal.

"As Bo-Katan said, we need all the forces possible. By spreading the word, we may get a few more recruits to aid us," Din says to Axe.

Bo-Katan looks at Din with a concerned look on her face. "What if they challenge you for the Darksaber?" He looks back at her and simply says, "Then I'll deal with it."

The command staff are gobsmacked. For months, it seemed like Din was trying to pawn off the blade to anyone he could, most of all Bo-Katan.

"Deal with it?" That's ridiculous. I get that it's not important to you, Zealot. But it is important to us," Axe says, his face full of fury. But his eyes do not match his displayed emotion. They keep looking at Koska, Bo-Katan, and Din.

'Something's up,' Din thinks. His years of bounty hunting have sharpened his intuition, and something doesn't smell right.

"If they challenge me, I will fight, and I will win," Din says, looking pointedly at Axe.

The other man looks at Koska. Din notes that Koska has a mischievous look under her false facade of calmness. Her look is the one Din sees when she is planning something, but normally some sort of prank. But this topic is no pranking matter.

'What are they up to?' Din thinks as he notes that Koska gives Axe a small nod.

Bo-Katan pipes up. "Axe, Din, that's enough. Din. What the kriff are you thinking?! And Axe, calm your keister. It is a decent idea if we play it well."

Axe smirks. "No, if challengers come, we need to know the wielder is strong enough to keep it. Din may be pliant and refuse to assume your leadership or the title, but who knows who else will come along? What if they want to take away the Nite Owls from you, Bo-Katan? We've worked too damn hard for us to slip up now."

Bo-Katan tries to interrupt, "AXE WOVES, I ORDER YOU TO STAND DOWN!"

But Axe continues, "To ensure our future. I, Axe Woves, challenge you for the Darksaber."

Everyone gasps.

Din realizes he has been presented with a trap, and he walked right into it.

The previous reasons he told the fleet still stand. Gideon wants Din to fight and possibly kill one of the Nite Owl command. Gideon had hoped it would be Bo-Katan, but would probably settle for Axe. If he fights Axe seriously, which he will have to. Then, if down the road, when he tries to give it to Bo-Katan and he does not fight as hard, then the fight will be questioned due to Din previously trying to yield the blade to her.

If he accepts Axe's challenge, Din is also making himself a liar, as he told the fleet when he arrived, he did not want it, and is also accepting the responsibilities the Darksaber entails.

If he rejects it, then his future claim will be brought into question, and the goodwill he may have developed may dissipate.

He does not think Axe will try and kill him. Axe knows why he shouldn't, as Bo-Katan explained it with her reasoning why she didn't challenge him. In the cantina, Axe drunkenly told Din that he had a daughter who died in the purge. Axe said he understood Din doing everything in his power to rescue his son.

Axe has challenged for the saber in public with witnesses. He and Koska are forcing Din to make a decision. 'Why are they doing this?' he wonders.

Bo-Katan is yelling at Axe, telling him to stand down and rescind the challenge.

"I accept your challenge," Din says. Causing Bo-Katan's anger to be focused at him.

"NO, YOU KRIFFING DON'T, DIN DJARIN!" She yells.

He ignores her. "On the condition that it is not to the death, for Lady Kryze needs both of us to reclaim Mandalore."

Axe accepts those conditions and nods to Koska. Who whispers into her vambrace, saying something like "Prepare the arena; plan Mud'alor is a go."

Din feels his cowl being tugged and almost stumbles over. Bo-Katan is literally dragging him out of the briefing room to yell at him.

Chapter Text

Din did not resist, and him being pliant and following her despite the incoming lecture is likely one of the primary reasons why she let go of his cowl. That and embarrassment caused by the looks from those they passed by.

It was a short walk, but his impending sense of dread made it feel like he was walking for light-years. But eventually they reached the door to her office. She paused, turned, and looked at him. She gestured with her head and eyebrows, 'Get in there.' Din could see the rage in her eyes. But her frown indicated a sense of sadness.

He hesitantly stepped into the room. He knew he should not sit on the couch like he normally does. Should he stay standing? Lean on something? Kneel in the middle of the floor? How should he hold his hands?

Those questions run through his mind before an impending earful from Bo-Katan. Every time he knows he deserves it, and this time is no different.

She shoves him from behind, stumbling slightly.

"WHAT THE KRIFF DIN?!" she yelled, starting the likely one-sided conversation. "Why did you say yes?!" Why did he challenge at all? He hasn't said anything to me. Did you know this was coming?! UUGGHHH!!!!" questions firing as rapidly as a heavy repeating blaster.

While she had always been somewhat physical during their arguments, it never grew more than a pointed finger in his face or parts of his chest that the Beskar did not cover. She did get in his face occasionally, but a shove was a new development.

Picking which of her questions to answer, "No, I did not know." Din decided to leave the Koska element out of it. Koska was one of Bo's most trusted friends and confidants. Most of his so-called 'evidence' is circumstantial and mostly gut instinct at best. Plus, he had no idea why she was egging Axe on in the first place. Din did not think Koska nor Axe were acting from a place of malice or deception. They were not trying to usurp Bo but pushing Din towards something. Why in the Manda would they want him to stake a claim for the Darksaber?

Coming back to the present, Bo was pacing, swearing the occasional curse word in the various languages she knows. Throwing her arms in the air at random intervals. "I do not think he is challenging for leadership," Din says, causing her to stop and spin on her heel to look at him. Her face was plastered with confusion.

Before she could ask, he continued, "I don't claim to know his intentions, but his 'anger'"—he did air quotes around the word—"was false, as I did not see it in his eyes."

Bo tilted her head down in thought, and her hand rested on her chin. Din was expecting an earful, but he has learned that if he is honest and uses his words, sometimes, albeit very rarely, he can convince Bo that he is right.

'Wait, Bo? When did I start thinking of her with her nickname?' he wondered. There had not been any significant change to their relationship. He realized they must have slept together from the snippets of memory that came back to him (he really didn't think he drank that much, but the poisoning must have really affected his metabolism).

He is not that traditional in thinking, that sex automatically means he must take the riduurok (marriage agreement) with her. Because if he did, he would have had to marry a prostitute, one of his ba'vodu'e (uncles) introduced Din to when his buir (parent) wasn't watching.

"But why?" she said. "I know when you joined, he was not the happiest. He brought up arguments against you in the past, but that stopped when you took the base beneath us. Specifically, when the Beskar was recovered." She paused and looked up at Din. She seemed to be good at finding exactly where his eyes were now. It always makes Din self-conscious and worry that she has seen his face. But he consistently manages to remind himself of the feeling of trust in her before immediately feeling bad for not trusting her with the Ka'ra vision secret.

She continued after a sigh, "—Then his attitude towards you shifted, and he actually was one of the main ones pushing for your seat on the command staff. To go back to his previous behavior, even calling you a zealot again… "I can't see why he would," Bo admits.

Din did get angry at Axe for saying that word. He got angry when Bo called him a zealot back on Trask. But knowing she blames herself for their strict following of the way has shown Din that she does not believe he is a zealot. She believes he is as less of a zealot as much as her own self-deprecating narrative that she is the destroyer of Mandalore (as much as Din has tried to convince her that that title belongs to Gideon and not her).

"Guess I could ask him after I win," Din says, hoping confidence would continue to swing her to his side of the argument.

It did not.

"YOU SHOULDN'T BE FIGHTING AT ALL!" she yelled. "Do you know how bad this makes me look, Din?" That I can't keep two of my command staff from fighting each other. How am I supposed to rule……?" Her words and voice are gone as she realizes what she was about to say.

Ah, and there lies the crux of the issue. Deep down, Bo still wants to rule Mandalore. To make up for her past mistakes.

Din does believe that she would be a good ruler, and when they started on this journey, he had fully planned on getting the Darksaber to her after, if not before, they retook Mandalore. However, the Ka'ra vision has thrown a wrench in that plan.

The rare times he caught himself thinking of ruling, he imagined her on his council at the very least. There was one time shortly after he woke up in her bed that he imagined her by his side. That morning, he quickly got up and washed his face with cold water and changed his sheets.

Thinking of how he could deflect the blame away from her, Din said, "He laid a trap, and I walked right into it." I could not say no. And he knew it," sighing before adding, "I am sorry, Bo." Din put his hand on her elbow. "Ni ceta (I kneel)," and he shifts to kneel before her.

Bo grabs both of his shoulders. "Don't." Din tilts his head but stands tall once more. "Just win, Din. Put this behind us so we can go to check out the reports about possible Awauds still kicking about." She looked like she was about to do something else as she was beginning to lean in, but his com on his vanbrace went off. "Din, it's Koska. The arena is ready in the base's training hall."

Bo looks annoyed at the interruption. Sighs and leans back. "Let's go then," she says as she walks to the door.

They walked to the training hall in silence. It was different from before, anticipation rather than reluctance for what is to come.

The two pass many Nite Owls. Din thought they would be split into two camps, favoring either Axe or himself, but was surprised when it seemed like those he walked past seemed to be entirely in his camp. Din heard the occasional betting request like "I've got 200 credits on you cutting his hand off; get his right one!" or "I've got 500 on a long fight, so drag it out, please!" Every request had Din winning in some form or another.

He looked at Bo, who was equally perplexed, but a smile formed that only grew with each request.

As they made their way to the training hall, they saw that the room itself was packed with Mandalorians. They had set up benches to get as many inside the room as possible, and there were numerous Nite Owls on the rafters looking down. The arena was simple, marked by a circular mat at its center, surrounded by eager spectators. The air buzzed with anticipation as Din and Bo entered, each step drawing the attention of the crowd, their murmurs rising in excitement for the showdown that was about to unfold.

Axe stood inside the ringed-off area; he was talking to Koska. They stopped and looked at Din and Bo; Koska gestured for them to come over. Bo and Din shared a glance and walked over. "Lady Kryze, as the highest-ranking officer here, will you be the judge of this challenge?" Koska asked. Bo was hesitant but reluctantly agreed.

Koska took a step towards the center of the arena and called out to the Mandalorians. Clanking her beskar vambraces together, sending a ringing sound to gain the onlookers' attention. "Mandalorians! Axe Woves has challenged Din Djarin for the Darksaber. Lady Kryze has been named judge. Her terms are final. Fighters to your corners." Koska bowed to Bo-Katan and gestured with her arm to the center of the ring to name her terms.

Axe stayed to the left side of the arena, while Din had to stroll back to the right. Bo-Katan in the center. "Initial terms have been made. This challenge will not be to the death. It will be decided by submission. My terms are no ranged weapons to prevent audience injury and for fighters to prevent long-term injury to their opponent. Challenger Axe Wolves, do you accept my terms?" she asked.

Axe nodded and said, "I accept the terms," and he unclipped his holsters and flamethrower tank and threw them out of the ring.

Bo asked Din the same question, and he also accepted the terms. Doing the same actions as Axe but also removing his whistling birds.

Bo-Katan stepped out of the ring as both warriors took their fighting stances. Axe removed one of his vibroknives. It was slightly longer than normal but not quite a machete. Din unclipped his spear, much to many of the crowd's chagrin. Before Bo-Katan could even announce the start, Din heard grumblings of some already losing bets.

"BEGIN!" Bo-Katan’s voice rings out as the command shatters the tense silence. In an instant, Axe Woves ignites his jetpack, surging forward to close the distance.

It's a smart move but a predictable one.

Din found the Nite Owls tended to use their jetpacks regularly. When he joined, he wondered if many had lived and trained under such conditions as he did. Where fuel was a precious resource and had to be rationed even to the most hardened of warriors.

Anticipating his move, Din began to build momentum with the spear, swinging upwards as he spun around. Making the first contact with Axe, the butt of his spear hitting the man in the vambrace.

Axe lands what would have been behind Din if he had stayed still, but Din's footwork had created space and oriented Din towards the challenger.

Axe lunges first, his blade a slashing extension of his anger. Din parries with his spear, the clang of metal reverberating across the training hall. Axe lets the knife go and catches it with his free hand; Din kicks Axe to create distance once more.

Spears have far greater reach than a knife, giving Din an advantage. He plans to keep his advantage as much as possible.

Axe comes at Din once more. He is quick and agile, darting in and out with practised precision. Din parries what he can with the spear, angling what he can't to no vital areas, suffering the occasional small cut.

Growing irritated, Axe taunts Din. “Come on, Din!” he sneers. “We both know you’ve had enough hesitation. Show us you’re not just another relic clinging to the old ways!"

Din does not rise to the taunt but pushes an attack. Swinging with the spear tip down and then thrusting it back up. The downward slash cuts Axe's vambrace as he tries to block the blow, scratching the blue paint. The thrust went through Axe's defences, narrowly missing the man's pauldron.

Axe goes to catch the spear, but Din changes his handholds. From a proper spearhold to more of a bat or sword. Pushing downwards to whack Axe and hopefully push him off balance.

It seemed successful at first, but it allowed Axe to grab it with his forearms, and then he activated his jetpack once more, spinning to rip the beskar out of Din's hands. Din worried Axe would use the spear against him, but a few feet in the air away from Din, Axe grasped the spear properly but threw it to the opposite side of the ring. "Come on, zealot! You couldn't have taken this base fighting like that."

The challenge stings, and every word is designed to push Din’s carefully maintained composure to the edge. Axe soars towards Din once more, barely giving him time to draw a vibroblade. The crowd roars as the two exchange a series of ferocious blows. Axe twists his body, aiming for Din’s flank, while Din deftly sidesteps, relying on instinct honed by years of solitary grind under harsh conditions.

The clash between Din and Axe drags on, a prolonged ballet of violence and defiance that both entrances and horrifies the gathered Mandalorians. Both men inflict slashed wounds on the other, nicking multiple limbs. While Din tries to avoid Axe's face, he almost cuts the man's nose in two. Pissing Axe off.

Din goes to apologize, but Axe recovers first; his jetpack, freshly activated once more, kicks to life with a sputtering burst as he launches himself at Din with renewed fury. Axe’s blade now sings through the air as he slices low at Din’s ankles, forcing Din back a step.

Din bends his elbow and strikes downwards, into Axe's back. Winding and knocking the man to the floor. Who, through extensive training, rolls as he slides across the arena's mat.

Din questions if he should press on with an attack, but hesitates. Axe stumbles to his feet. Taunting Din once more, “You hesitate, Djarin!" Din fires his whipcord, but Axe dodges and slashes the wire with his blade.

Axe smirks like he got an idea. Din thinks the man will attack, but does not expect the words out of his mouth: "Is that what you teach Grogu? Weakness? Is that why you let the Jetti take him?" The venom in Axe’s voice is undeniable; the name “Grogu” echoes like a bitter reminder.

'Why is Axe provoking me?' he has to wonder, but the mention of his son's name enrages Din.

The normally measured warrior’s eyes flash with uncontrolled fury. His fists clench, and for a moment, all he can hear is the mockery ringing in his ears. The crowd’s cheers drown out everything but that single, insulting name. Grogu, his charge, his foundling, his son, used against him as a weapon, shatters Din's restraint like glass.

A surge of raw, pent-up anger overcomes him, and without thinking, Din nearly forsakes his usual disciplined technique. Charges at Axe with his jump pack, but it is a feint as he stops short and swings his knife, slashing Axe's chestplate. Axe’s eyes widen in surprise and pride as Din’s attacks become less about measured defence and more about unbridled fury.

The two men trade blows once more, mixing the slashing of knives with heavy punches and kicks. Axe kept trying to egg Din on. Insult after insult. Din just wants him to shut up at this point.

As the clash continues, Din’s focus narrows, and in a rapid, almost primal move, he steps forward. In one fluid action, Din drives his head forward into Axe’s jaw. A swift, punishing kov’nyn (Mandalorian head-butt, also known as a Keldabe kiss) that catches Axe completely off-guard.

The impact is immense. Axe’s sneer falters as the sheer force of Din’s headbutt reverberates through his skull, and for a suspended moment, the world falls silent. Axe cries out in pain and rage, barely managing to keep the knife in his hand.

Axe managed to kick Din in the chest, pushing him backwards, and spat blood into his visor as he did so. A tooth made a plink sound as it hit his helmet.

Axe smiles, one of his lower teeth now slowly falling off of Din. "Your precious charge, Grogu, deserves better. Don't you want to make a home for him? To create a world where Grogu can be proud of his heritage? You're no father if you cower from responsibility!" Axe yells.

'Ah, that's what he wants,' Din thinks. Axe's motivation has been revealed. Axe must have known he'd lose this fight. Axe wants Din to be Mand'alor. Sacrificing his own honor in the process.

Din would commended the man if he weren't so angry. Axe should never have stooped so low to use Grogu against him.

Din lets Axe charge at him once more, dodging out of the way but not before punching Axe in the face. Then bending at the knees, rotating back. Din punched upwards, his hand making contact with Axe's gut.

Axe falls to his knees, wrenching. Din almost considers pointing the blade at him to force him to yield. Axe was close to being considered one of Din's friends, but insulting Grogu is an unforgivable sin in his book.

Din walks a few paces to let Axe gather himself. Din places his knife back in its cover and draws the Darksaber.

With practised form, the ancient blade hums to life at Din’s grasp, the plasma blade cutting through the tension.

In an instant, the shift in the dynamics of the arena is palpable to all the spectators.

The Darksaber, a symbol of both legacy and unyielding honor. Now it rests in the hands of a man who had long tucked it away. No one had seen Din use it. For his training sessions with Bo were private enough that no one came by, and Bo disabled the cameras every session. Sure, the Nite Owls had footage of Din taking the base, but they could make out very little, as the blade swinging around and the blaster fire were the only light sources in a mostly black screen, regardless of what camera was recording.

The Darksaber's dark, crackling energy mirrors the storm raging within Din’s soul at this moment. His rage is apparent, but knowing Axe is doing this on purpose both adds more fuel and mixes it with confusion.

For a heartbeat, silence grips the arena. Even Axe, who had hoped his tongue would be the final spark, halts his ceaseless taunting when confronted by the weight of history incarnate in the Darksaber.

"So, Woves," Din says, his tone laced with his turbulent anger, "you challenged for this." He lifts the blade into a defensive stance. "Come and take it."

Axe wipes his bloody face and stands. His hands on his hips, he asks earnestly, “Grogu means everything to you, doesn’t he?” The false venom in his tone was gone.

"This is the way," Din responds.

Axe sighs and charges once more.

With a swift move, Din swings down at the man's vambrace, then angles down to his chest plate, making contact. Din kicks Axe's knee, causing it to cave inwards with a loud crack that was muffled by his cry. Din then swings the saber in a large arc, ending barely an inch away from the man's neck.

Axe looks at Din in fear before Din asks, "Do you yield?"

Axe's face is overcome with relief, and he whispers through the pain, "Now the saber is yours without doubt. Claim what is rightfully yours, and we will follow," before announcing, "I yield!"

Chapter Text

His ears were ringing. He did not hear Bo announce his victory. Or the calling of a medic. He wanted desperately to run the darksaber into Axe for taunting him with his son, but his rage, his fury, was not properly aimed at the right person.

The reason the taunts worked was that there was an element of truth to them. He did hesitate in naming Grogu as his son, to know his name as his child. Din is still hesitating now when it comes to claiming the title.

Din did not hate Axe; he was not angry at Axe.

Din was angry at himself and, deep down, hated himself.

The Ka'ra found him worthy of a title Din felt that he had no right to. The Ka'ra said he still had the creed carved into his heart, but he removed his helmet, and the Nite Owls knew about it.

Din felt someone put their hand on his arm; he turned and saw Bo. Her eyes filled with concern, and he realized he still had the Darksaber at Axe's throat.

He was admittedly hesitant when it came to Bo. She deserved to know. But he also liked the connection they made that night and wanted more.

He deactivated the blade, and everyone let out the breath they were holding.

He then caught a glimpse of Raal Kiv. The medic who treated him after taking the base. Raal was ordering Axe onto a stretcher and was giving Din the once-over. Din suddenly realized the pain he was in.

Din did not realize Axe had managed to get some heavy blows on him. He felt one of his ribs make a noise when he breathed. 'That's broken,' he thought. His body was plastered with cuts, some far deeper than he had thought of in the moment. He knew he would be very bruised in the morning and had already dreaded the thought of waking up.

He felt himself being pushed back onto a stretcher. He could walk, he thought. Din tried to get up, but his knees began to wobble, and the world spun.

The next thing Din knew, he was waking up in the med bay, just like how he did a few months ago. The light is still blinding. They should really do something about that.

He heard the wheeled stool begin to move and glanced over at Raal; he was pulling Axe out of a bacta tank. The tank had been one of the purchases Din had made while working admin with Bo.

Din could see Axe's X-rays, multiple broken ribs and bones. His jaw was almost shattered from the kov'nynir (Mandalorian headbutt). He must have been in so much pain when he said that final taunt before he yielded.

Why was Axe so desperate? Din asked himself, finding no definitive answer. He hoped to ask the Man himself, but Axe was still out cold.

Din watched Raal move him to a bed next to Din. Was placing them in the same room a good idea?

Din glanced around the room; he saw none of the typical emergency weaponry. No scissors, surgical knives, or anything. Axe was in medical garments, so he was unarmed, and when Din looked down, he only saw a fresh flight suit, no Beskar.

Raal must have heard his movement or seen what he was looking for and answered the questions racing in Din's mind. "Lady Kryze and Reeves came and took both of your beskar and weaponry. Admittedly, I am miffed that they took some of my equipment, but apparently the two of you are supposed to "talk it out rather than act like kriffing ade (children).'" Raal used air quotes when quoting the two women.

Normally, Mandalorians talk it out by fighting. Din certainly partook in that method of conversation. Din recalled the memories of fighting Paz and remembered that after the fight, they had almost always forgotten what they were fighting about.

Given that he and Axe had already fought, it seemed apt that they must now use their actual words.

Raal gave him an approximate timeframe for Axe to regain consciousness, gave Din another once-over, changed his IV bag, told him off for being stupid with the darksaber cauterizing incident before the poisoning (because he didn't get to at the time), and went to go inform Lady Kryze and Reeves about the two men's condition.

Din lay there, looking at Axe. Each question in his mind formed two more, like a hydra. The downward spiral of Din's thoughts had begun.

Din tried to stop it.

He looked around for five things he could see.

Axe, Bacta Tank, Axe's Bed, Axe's Charts, Axe's Heart Rate Monitor.

Not helping

He closed his eyes and felt around for 4 things he could touch.

My helmet, my flight suit, the bed below me, the IV drip in my arm.

better but still not great.

Listening for three things, he could hear.

Our heart rate monitors, my breath, Axe's voice.

Wait, AXE'S VOICE.

Din opened his eyes and looked at Axe. The man had a remorseful demeanour on his face. He was looking at Din, fumbling over his words.

After a long pause that felt more like an eternity, Axe cleared his throat. “Din… I need to say something.” His voice was low and gravelly from both the fight, the time in the bacta tank, and the weight of his conscience.

Din wrestled with the tumult of emotions. The raw fury from the arena, the sting of Axe’s provocations, and their underlying truths. His confusion behind the man's actions. and the heavy responsibility of the mantle that now loomed ominously on his horizon.

Din slowly nodded. Not trusting his voice.

Axe took a slow, deliberate breath before speaking. “I’m sorry… for everything I said out there,” he began, his tone earnest. “Using Grogu against you was wrong on every level, and I have no excuse for it, as I should have picked something else to get you angry. I didn’t mean for it to cut that deep. I crossed the line and Niceta "(I kneel- Grovelling apology).

Din’s jaw tightened imperceptibly as he recalled the hearing of that fateful word—a name that had torn through him like a shard of broken glass.

Din could only imagine how hurt Grogu would be if he heard Axe's insults. Grogu did not like anyone messing with Din, force-choking the occasional person.

Din gave nothing away as he exhaled slowly. “Words can be weapons, Axe,” he replied in a measured tone, his voice barely above a whisper. “I understand the need for provocation in combat, but when you drag my son into it… It opens a wound, you know I’ve been trying to heal since I've been with the Nite Owls.”

Axe’s eyes flickered with regret. “I know, and I’m sorry, Din."

Din needed answers now. "Why'd you do it?"

"What?" Axe said in response.

"Why'd you challenge me, Axe?" Din's desperation for answers is apparent.

Axe sighed and turned away from Din to look at the roof above them. Paused, then answered. "Din, you need to take up the title of Mand'alor."

Din frowned, brow furrowing as he absorbed Axe’s words. His mind, still echoing the harsh clash of battle, began to sort through the layers of meaning behind Axe’s tone. "How does provoking me like you did play into that at all?" Din asked

Axe turned back to Din, looking directly into his eyes with a determined look on his face. "Din I said much of those things because when the other clans join us, they will spout that us-versus-them crap into your face. If you are the one to lead us like we think you are, then we need to be sure you can take it and defend your claim."

Before Din could process the implications of his words, he asked the main point that stood out to him, "We? So Koska was in on this."

Axe sighed. "Yeah, she is, and others." He paused. "Din, you took this base, the cruiser above us, and defeated Moff Gideon. TWICE, if my sources are true, rescued a senator, rescued a jetti, and took him in as your foundling and son, and you have helped Nite Owls in more ways than what was expected when you joined us." Axe listed Din's achievements over the last few years. Din realized that his actions had actually been somewhat significant in the grand scheme of the galaxy.

"Din, what do you think of the Nite Owls? And before you answer, keep in mind when we met, the hostility between us," Axe asked.

Din pondered Axe's question. It was similar to a question Bo asked him on that night they had been together. He paused, letting the room fall into silence. Axe thought he had his answer and looked down, disappointed, before Din spoke.

"I think…… You all are hardened warriors. Capable fighters. But not without faults."

This shocked Axe, but Din continued.

"Axe, in our fight, you favored your jetpack, and most Nite Owls use it far too often when you fight. But it's what you have known for decades. My covert rationed everything, including blaster ammunition. Everything was a great cost and had to be weighed up for the good of the tribe. We only left the sewers one at a time, for our secrecy was our survival. I gave every credit I could to the tribe. Going days without food. I cauterised most of my wounds, as money for Bacta could be used to buy that for the tribe."

Din inhaled as he continued.

"Axe the Nite Owls can and do sacrifice for the tribe. Bo-Katan has told me the history, the lives lost fighting the Mandalorians. But deep down the roots are still in Death Watch. Which means the memories of them and past actions are bogging you down. Bo-Katan still blames herself for me wearing my helmet, and I have forgiven her for that. I was only angry at you all for removing your helmets, for I never knew a Mandalorian could."

Din got derailed explaining that's one of the reasons he needs to see his armorer, as she was the strictest about the helmet law, but got himself back on track.

"Since being here and per Bo-Katan's orders, I've been integrating myself into the Nite Owls. I have seen that the tenets of the Resol'nare are held inside the Nite Owls. Which means you are all Mandalorians inside and out."

Din's words seem to have given Axe the answer the man was looking for.

"Din, the fact that you can see that makes me believe that it is you who can forge a new path for Mandalore. Anyone else would not be so sacrificing to their people. Although I admit Bo has sacrificed her entire life and family for Mandalore. No other leader realizes that everyone else is bogged down by our long history; there are feuds between clans that have been going on for thousands of years. Din, you are right. The tenets of the Resol'nare are within us and are the true scale that Mandalorians should weigh themselves on. Did you exemplify all tenets but one? OUR LEADER. For you need to take up the mantle to do so." Axe rambled.

Axe added, "You are the new type of Mand'alor, if not the person that the Mando'ade need (sons and daughters of Mandalore)."

Din frowned, brow furrowing as he absorbed Axe’s words. His mind, still echoing the harsh clash of battle, began to sort through the layers of meaning behind Axe’s tone. New path? A new Mand’alor? The thought sent a ripple of unease through him.

"Axe, really? me? A lonely beroya (bounty hunter) with no tribe. Is that what we need?" His tone was almost sarcastic.

Axe nodded slowly, his gaze steady despite the pain etched into his face. “Yes, Din,” he said softly, “I’ve seen the struggles you face; our fight exemplified it because I purposefully brought it to the forefront. Your restraint, your anger when provoked. Not just in the arena, but in every decision you make. Bo-Katan has tried to reunite our people twice, and while her heart is true, her methods have faltered."

He paused, swallowing hard as he realized he was betraying his leader; he continued. "You can succeed where she has failed. Koska and I believe this to be true, and so do the others."

Din still can't believe it. He is only letting them contemplate it because the vision might not have been a hallucination.

"Axe,” Din murmured, “you put a lot of weight behind your words this evening.” His voice was quieter than before, heavy with the mix of anger and introspection. “You’re suggesting I abandon everything, this creed I live by, for a title, for a mantle that might not even fit me."

Axe shook his head, the flicker of regret in his eyes mingling with unwavering determination. “It’s not about abandoning who you are,” he countered. “It’s about embracing the full measure of who you could be. Bo-Katan has her vision for our people, but she’s not enough by herself. The modern Mandalore needs a leader who can marry the old ways with a new resolve."

Axe had mentioned Bo-Katan and her failed attempts three times now.

He glanced down for a moment, as if burdened by his own inner conflict. “I must confess, I’m conflicted about where Bo-Katan fits into all this. I respect her deeply. I believe in her vision, but… I also see that her strengths have waned under the weight of her past impulses. With you beside her, maybe things could change. Koska, too, thinks that you should take Bo-Katan as your wife. Not just to lend you legitimacy with the old clans and houses, but because she believes Bo-Katan is happier when you’re around—a happier version of her, one less tethered to the ghost of Death Watch.”

'WHAT THE KRIFF! Din thought, about to say the words out loud before Axe continued.

"I’m not saying this lightly, Din. I have seen the way you carry yourself in battle, your uncompromising stance in the face of adversity. When you drew the Darksaber, you didn’t just evoke the fury of the old ways; you embodied it. Admittedly, it was kriffing scary. You showed us that beneath all that discipline lies a heart that beats for something greater than revenge or regret.”

Din barely heard a word Axe just said. Still hung up that Koska thinks he should marry Bo-Katan. Adding to Din's inner turmoil.

Axe kept speaking. Din would catch the occasional word. One thing the helmet was great for was making people assume he was paying attention; it let Din panic while they spoke.

"DIN!" Axe yelled, gaining his attention back. "What?" Din asked, trying to play it off like he wasn't not paying attention.

"I asked if you have bonded with the Darksaber." Axe exclaimed.

It was now or never. "I don't know if it was a bond, but uuhhhh… I may have had a vision from the Ka'ra," Din admitted. Din proceeded to tell Axe about the vision in as much detail as he could remember. Only getting sidetracked when he was describing each of his parents.

Silence fell for a moment until Axe exclaimed in a half yell, half laugh, "So the Ka'ra thinks you're worthy TOO. Din, that's great!"

Din explained his hesitancy about thinking it was a near-death hallucination, but Axe kept believing the vision was real.

"I did accept, but I wish it didn’t feel like betrayal to Bo-Katan. She is a good leader and has been a good friend to me. As you said, she has sacrificed so much. She doesn't deserve to be stabbed in the back like this. I just… don't know how to tell her," Din admitted.

Din’s heart clenched at the thought of Bo. The warrior he had come to respect and, in fleeting moments, deeply care about, remained a paradox. A beacon of strength tempered by her own secret griefs.

"Yeah, we've been feeling the same. Koska and I have been with her for decades. The only person who has been with her was Ursa. She was with Bo-Katan back in her Death Watch days. She was with us until the night of a thousand tears. Even Koska doesn't know why she left us. When Usra left, Bo-Katan was broken for a while."

"Why are you telling me this?" Din asked.

Axe realized he was rambling. Paused and thought his words through before speaking. "I don't want to break Bo-Katan. I respect her too much. But this is too important."

Din knows Bo values honesty. "I can't lie to her, Axe."

"And I don't think we should," Koska says as she walks through the door.

She asked the two men for a rundown of the heart-to-heart. She was excited by the Ka'ra vision. She played off Din's questions about her opinion of her wanting him to marry Bo. She gave him a cheeky look when he called her Bo, which Din yelled at himself for.

"We should tell her before we investigate the clan Awaud sightings. We don't know if they will have bad blood with her, and you may need to take point in the negotiations in case they do."

Din tries to sit up (which was a painful mistake). "Hold on. I never said I was going to take the title. Sure, I said it in my hallucination, but I don't know if that was real."

Koska gave him a scathing look. "Din, I would smack the stupidness out of you if you weren't so injured. YOU HAD A KA'RA VISION. Only those blessed by the stars (Mandalorian version of Force sensitive), who are normally armorers and Mand'alors themselves, get Ka'ra visions. Even I know that."

Din had no idea.

Din explained that he had hoped to speak to his armorer about the vision to Koska.

She thought for a moment, "Look, Axe and I will stay behind and keep looking into her location, if not try and find another one. We WILL be putting word out that you have the saber," her tone not inviting any argument.

She looked straight at Din. "You and Bo-Katan will take her gauntlet and a few other backup ships and investigate the Awaud sightings. You should tell her, at least about the vision. But do what you feel is right."

Great.

Being stuck in a ship alone with a beautiful woman who you have to lay world-shattering information on.

What could go wrong?

Chapter Text

While Din was certainly injured, the wonderful powers of Bacta, pain meds, and a very overqualified medic allowed him to regain his freedom from the medbay far quicker than Axe.

In truth, Axe had done a mixture of things, though conversing with Din.

Axe kept hounding Din about taking up the mantle of Mand'alor, asking about Din's opinions on policies and political aspirations. Axe would drop the subject and change to trying to be Din's friend when he realized that Din was growing irritated and annoyed at the conversation topic.

Din was still hesitant in multiple regards. Din felt that both the mantle and its responsibilities, as well as Bo, were important; he believed Bo deserved to know the truth. But there is something underpinning the reason that Din does not quite understand.

Admittedly, his dreams of late had been trying to imagine a life together. But they were only friends, right? Sure, if he had to describe the person he would marry, she was overqualified. A formidable warrior, a person trying to be kind, someone who encourages him to be better, and someone who keeps him in check.

She ticked all of those boxes and added, Of the royal bloodline, an experienced leader, a quick thinker, deadly beyond most others, and absolutely beautiful.

Every time Din watches Bo move, it feels as if the entire world sharpens into focus around her. She carries herself with the unwavering grace of a born leader in front of others but chooses to remove that mask in front of people she trusts. Which Din is over the moon that she considers him to be one of said people.

Din can’t help but notice the way her green eyes flicker and change. Often steely and determined when orders must be given, other times soft and reflective when her guard lowers, as it did in the quiet moments they shared. In those fleeting seconds, her gaze holds a vulnerability that feels as precious as it is rare. He considers her eyes to be like gems as much as they are windows to her very soul.

Her voice is another blade in her arsenal that she carries around daily: firm and authoritative when rallying the Nite Owls, but startlingly gentle when she confided a piece of her past. Din holds onto the memory of that soft confession, the heavy burden of her Death Watch legacy ringing whenever Axe brings up the baggage of Mandalorian history.

In Din’s eyes, Bo-Katan is more than a commander or an ally. She is a friend. He has been grateful that she forcefully dragged Din out of the hole that was his heart when Grogu left. To continue the child's work on making Din remember what it was like to be a person again, not just a self-sacrificing bounty hunter.

Din was surprised when Bo easily accepted the fact that the two of them would be travelling alone in her Gauntlet to the Instrop sector. While it would be almost two standard weeks of lightspeed travel with one stop midway to refuel and stock up on food and ammunition in case the investigation went sideways, Bo seemed almost excited.

Din did not realize her excitement was mainly for his initial punishment for accepting the challenge against her orders.

"Alright, Din. As punishment for accepting the challenge even though I told you not to," her irritation was apparent. "You are going to be cleaning the ship and cooking for us while we travel," she said. "I'll help, of course, but it'll be in a managerial role."

Din vaguely recalled the absolute bombsite her captain's quarters were.

Din was a highly organized person. It was the reason he was hesitant to take Grogu on at first, for the little bugger was messy as all hell.

He starts at the cockpit. Fingers scrub at the throttle’s base plate, lifting a sheen of grease that’s been building since the last sortie. The nav-computer console bears crumbs from half-eaten rations; Din lifts each datapad, wipes the screen with a damp cloth, and snaps it into its holder. Behind him, Bo stands silent, arms folded over her chestplate, watching with thinly veiled amusement. Every now and then she offers a quick correction: “Mind the wiring there” or “That knob tightens counterclockwise”. But for the most part, she lets him work.

Din wipes down the galley table, stubborn scorch marks where hot nutrient packs were left too long, and tea and coffee spills long since ingrained into the surface of the table.

Bo hums under her breath, a rare sound that makes him glance up. She’s helmetless today, hair tied back, forgoing her usual headband. Lines of fatigue softening her features. He ducks his head and keeps scrubbing.

The starboard bulkhead holds a rack of survival gear—flame-retardant bags, oxygen tanks, and emergency beacons. Din straightens each item, aligning labels until the row looks regimented.

He glances across at her command seat. He can't decide who he imagines sitting in it more. It is her seat, but he caught himself imagining sitting in the seat, with her either on the armrest or in his lap, kissing and perhaps something more.

In the mess area, he scoops leftover protein gel from the sink into a bio-waste container. The smell is sour, but he finishes the chore without complaint. He notes she purposefully held herself back from cheekily adding to his chore with her tea mug. When he looked at her, he could almost tell in her eyes she was thinking about it.

He knows the crew quarters are clean from his last time using the beds. He cleaned during his previous trip to quell his pre-battle anxieties.

The fresher needed a few hours of scrubbing. Din completely missed the spark in Bo's eyes or the lick of her lips when he removed his gloves and vambraces and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his olive, veiny forearms in the light of the ship's day cycle. And he also did not hear how she practically purred when he got on his hands and knees to scrub the drain.

It has taken him almost one standard rotation. But he knows he has one room left.

The captain's quarters.

Bo's room.

The room he almost died in.

The door slides open with a pneumatic sigh. Inside, the stateroom is a jumble: half-packed crates and a scattering of personal effects. Far too many used mugs and utensils. A stack of empty (but washed) food trays. Laundry of sheets, flight suits, armor plates (from her normal armor), and normal civilian clothing scatters the floor, chucked haphazardly.

He did not notice that she was in simple nightwear. Which should have been expected given the closeness of the night cycle.

He noted a painting of a blonde woman on the wall. Positioned so that she must look at it when she opens her eyes in the morning.

He finds note reminders attached to various surfaces. He reads a couple. "Remember the guard schedules." "You can be better than him," and near the painting, "For Satine."

He folds blankets and stacks her armor plates by the foot of the bed. He wonders about polishing them during their travels. Manda knows his could probably use a deeper polish than his normal everyday maintenance.

Under the bunk, he finds dusty holoprojector panels; he wipes each one clean, restoring the crispness of the recordings they hold.

On the small desk, a datapad lies open: at a glance, he sees detailed plans to besiege a planet. He supposes she is constantly thinking about Mandalore. He worries about what it must do to her psyche. Din picks it up, brushes away fingerprints, and sets it neatly in its cradle.

Bo stands in the doorway, arms crossed, watching his progress. She says nothing, but her eyes flick over every movement, as if judging not just the cleanliness of her quarters but his respect for her private world. Din senses the vulnerability in that unspoken appraisal each time he makes a sideways glance at her.

He finally notices her clothing. A loose white sleeveless shirt and blue shorts

He approaches her bunk and tucks each corner of the bedsheets, duvet, and blanket under the mattress. The gesture is small and domestic, and it makes his heart pound. Turning, he meets her gaze. She’s silent for a moment, then nods once, sharply.

He changes her pillowcases and organizes her small closet. Everything feels like an invasion of privacy, but she is not stopping him.

He begins by collecting the clothes on the floor. Finding empty bottles of alcohol in a concerning number. He should have done this first, but he wanted to give Bo the chance to collect anything she didn't want him to see.

He still is without his gloves, and he hears the clink of beskar. Turning, he sees her stack his vanbraces next to hers. And thus he missed the fact that he had found a pair of her undergarments and had picked them up in his hand.

She gave him a sarcastic look and held down a chuckle. Sarcastically quipping, "Well, I didn't think pink was your color, Din." Confused, he looked down and saw pink lace lingerie. He almost fell over himself in an embarrassing shock reaction, causing that smothered laugh of hers to come out in full force.

She was half leaning on her bed, slapping it in laughter. Din had to squash down his irritation about her messing up the bed already. Din was on his back now; he let his head fall to the floor with a clink. His own laughter began to rise, and he did not stop it. It was light, amused at his own foolishness and her reaction. Her laugh, on the other hand, was deep and was spurred on by his.

After the laugh subsided, an awkward silence fell on the two. Bo collected the undergarment and threw it into the pile of laundry.

Din gathered the clothes he slipped on and added them to the pile, laid a dirty bedsheet, and poured the clothes into it. He then grabbed each of the corners to use the sheet as a bag to carry the clothes.

Bo had an impressed look on her face. While it is a common and simple practice of moving lots of clothes/fabric that Din's parents taught him as a child. She may not have learned it growing up the way(s) she did.

Leaving her in the room, he used the time alone to gather his thoughts. He had seen so much of Bo today, so much of her old self and who she is trying to be, mixed with the perceived lack of time to take care of the basic things.

Din wonders if she has been taking care of herself or if her body and mind are just as cluttered as her ship.

He wondered briefly if he could be the one to take care of her, as she has taken care of him over what is eerily close to a full year.

Sure, they have had their ups and downs, mainly due to the rocky start of their friendship. But for almost 7 months they had spent most days together, working together for the betterment of the Nite Owls.

It had been almost a month since they spent the night. He found himself wanting it again, but the conversation he needed to have with her complicated matters. He knew it would be wrong and downright cruel if he gave in to his desires before telling her. He values her opinion and thinks highly of her.

He knows he has two weeks to muster up the courage to tell her. Telling her too early could cause the rest of the trip to go horribly. He doesn't think she will stab him in his sleep (but deep down, it excites him to know she could).

But telling her too late would mean she has less time to process or time for them to discuss what they should do going forward.

After he puts the sheet bag of laundry in the sonic washer. He decides that he should tell her today. While he is exhausted and drained, he thinks keeping it a secret for longer will only make it worse.

Din strides back to her room, his nerves causing his stomach to turn (and for him to realize he had not eaten since breakfast). His heart raced, and his ears rang.

At the door to the captain's quarters. He decided to take a deep, slow breath in and out. Repeating the process three times.

He knocked at the door and heard her say to "Come in."

He was ready to tell her the secret that could ruin their friendship and ruin their professional relationship.

He was ready to tell her about Axe and Koska's machinations.

He was ready to tell her about the Ka'ra vision.

He was ready to tell her that he was going to accept the title of Mand'alor.

What he did not expect to see when he opened the door was her lying on the bed in green lace lingerie.

"I think green is my color. Do you agree?"

Chapter Text

Din's brain was short-circuiting.

He came in here for a purpose. To tell her the truth.

But he was so tired, and it meant his usual control of his actions was far weaker than normal.

He knew he should not have given in to his deeper desires. But when she asked, "Are you going to be a good boy and come here?" he gave in.

Even though he was tired and his body and hands were aching, the night was fantastic. He sorely regretted not remembering their last time if it was this damn good.

He fell asleep with her in his arms with a smile from ear to ear. His happiness overshadowed his post-coital clarity regrets.

They were both on the sides, facing towards the wall and away from the door. He, as the physically larger person, was the big spoon. She fit perfectly into him as the little spoon.

He could not remember if he had dreamt, for he was likely too tired.

He awoke when the ship's morning cycle began. Dim lights at the corner.

He heard Bo basically slap herself in the face. "Eyes covered!" with a deep, sensual morning voice.

His initial internal reaction was to rapidly find and don his helmet, like what had been ingrained in him since he swore the Creed. But his actual reaction was more sentimental.

He kissed the top of her head with a peck before unravelling himself from her. His helmet was on top of the nightstand like last time. He turned to the door and let his legs hang from the bed. He donned his helmet and stood.

He stretched all the knots from the previous day's cleaning out of his back and shoulders. As naked as the day he was born.

When Bo heard the pressurization sound, she turned to look at him. Admiring the sight of his muscles moving, his bare ass, and of course the beautiful marks she had left on his entire back.

The urge to play a prank on him was too much, as she put the base of her cold right foot on the small of his back. Causing the hardened bounty hunter to yelp out at the sudden sensation.

Giggling with as much glee as when she was a child. She chose to barely fight back when he moved back to tickle her. While she was not overly ticklish, with Din's exploration of her body, he managed to find a couple of spots the night prior, and he was using them to his full advantage.

Eventually, after some… adult activities, their stomachs got the best of them. Din put on his flight suit (albeit awkwardly over his helmet) and went to make them a simple breakfast.

He was glad that Koska had the foresight to actually stock the kitchen. Din was almost sure if Bo did it, every cupboard would be packed to the brim with ready-to-make meals and rations. With a healthy supply of Caff and Tea.

He was deeply concerned that he kept finding alcohol bottles, both full and partially empty, in practically every nook and cranny of the ship. While he cannot rightfully judge, his relationship with booze was toxic at best when Buir (parent) died. She had a massive traumatic event after massive traumatic event throughout her whole life.

Din panicked and had the irrational belief that he would be adding another one onto her plate. He almost burnt their eggs before he caught himself.

He steeled his resolve to tell her today.

Then his thoughts were flying past him like the streaks of blue light when a ship enters hyperspace.

When should I tell her? Before, during, or after she's had coffee? Or does she drink tea in the mornings? After or before breakfast? How do I even start? Should I check if she has a vibroblade? Will she stab me, and will this be over with? Should I let her?

He must have been visually panicking, as when a dressed Bo-Katan joined him in the room, she broke the spell over him. "What's got your breifs in such a twist this early in the morning?"

Her reference to the time of morning made Din think about telling her later. But then he went on a self-deprecating spiral of thinking he wasn't strong enough, and his will to tell her is obviously weak.

Deciding that he should tell her above all else "Just the Axe thing. I'll tell you after breakfast. Caff or tea?"

She frowned but slid into the dining chair. "Caff, no milk, one sweetener." Din was happy he was learning how she took her Caff. He briefly imagined making her a cup every morning from now on but shoved that thought to the side as it depended on how she took the conversation they were about to have.

He dished up her breakfast after ensuring the Caff pot was still warm from earlier. He could tell on her face that she was not looking forward to the conversation, and it weakened his resolve.

Deciding to lift her mood. "Surprised you need a sweetener," he quipped sarcastically. She gave him a mocking, insulting gesture and look. "I am hurt by the insinuation; may I ask why?"

Din gave her her cup and sat down as she took her first sip. Deciding to see how flirting goes. "Because you are sweet enough anyway," his delivery was off. Din has likely never flirted in his entire life. He'd been flirted at. During his time at the covert, after becoming a well-known bounty hunter. Some of his bounties are trying to escape. Other hunters like Xi'an. He almost never reciprocated, as that never went well.

But her laugh was worth his embarrassing attempt.

She ate breakfast in peace. Din, of course, would eat his separately, but she noted that he had not cooked anything for himself yet. She did not know he was worried she was going to kill him, so he wouldn't get a chance to eat, but deeply hoped she wouldn't.

He did not have any caff or tea either, she wondered. She reasoned that he must have had a cup of something earlier. He just sat there watching her, partaking in conversation like normal, but he wasn't saying anything. Sure, he was speaking words, but they seemed to be placating her or simply agreeing with things she said. That irked her.

"Din knows what's really going on. You said you knew about Ax—"

"He wants me to become Mand'alor," Din interrupted.

Chapter Text

Bo was stunned into silence. Each word she tried to form failed to produce any sound.

Axe, of all people, wants Din (whom he was adamantly against when they first met, but, well, so was she) to be the kriffing Mand'alor.

Din as Mand'alor.

Mand'alor.

That was supposed to be her title; it was her title once.

It was supposed to be hers.

The shock she felt transformed into rage, which restored her voice with full force.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" she asked as she stood up rapidly. She almost knocked over her Caff mug on the table if Din hadn't caught it.

The sudden movement was perceived subconsciously as a threat, and her fight-or-flight nervous system response kicked in, and, as almost always, she chose fight. Winding back a hand in a punch, letting it loose at Din's helmet but stopping centimetres away from making contact.

The two were breathing heavily.

Din looked like he made no move to defend himself; it looked like he was actively holding back. Why? She was not some pretty princess (she is though) that needs protecting or cannot handle themselves in a fight.

He just said one of her command members, a longtime friend and ally, had actively challenged Din for the Darksaber because he thought Din should be Mand'alor.

If he wanted it, by all rights, they should be fighting, trying to kill each other. But instead, he apologized to her after she pulled her hand back, and he set the cup down on the table.

Perhaps in another life they would have been trying to do so for years.

Bo pulls her fist back slowly and cradles it to her chest like it was hurt. She sat down and made herself physically small. She feels hurt, betrayed, and humiliated. The only reason she is not storming out of the room is that the man who is telling her this is not the cause of those feelings. He's just the messenger, and he has more to tell. Her inner child is telling, if not screaming at, her to run to get out of there, but she is a grown adult and will face her problems head-on (or so her new Mandalorian mind healer had taught her).

She believes she knows Din and trusts him, but with the betrayal of Axe, she can't be sure who to trust anymore.

She thought she learned how to sniff out traitors after the Saxon brothers, who followed Maul and then the Empire. She feels like Axe is her Montross, but she is not Jaster Mereel.

She pulled her legs into her, giving them a comforting hug. She could not look at Din, but the occasional glance provided her with the picture of a man with his head down, his hands open, palms up, that trembled in time with his body.

"I am sorry, Bo." He repeated. His voice broke, saying her name. "But I can't lie to you."

"So what? He devised this challenge to force you to accept a role that you said you didn't want. And for what?"

They sat in silence, her coffee getting colder by the minute.

She could not stand the silence after so long. "Why?" she asked as she looked at Din. He had stopped trembling, and at one point in the silence his breathing was short but loud through the modulator. He was still sitting like how he was after the coffee spill. Not trembling, but she heard the occasional sniff.

Din began explaining Axe's reasoning to the best of his ability, saying she could maybe find a recording on the Medbay security feed. 'Axe thinks that I do not deserve another chance,' she thinks. Din explains how he saw Axe express (in his opinion) genuine regret at this betrayal. But then comes the worst part.

Din then explains how he had thought Koska had maybe planned the challenge with Axe and how Din's suspicions were confirmed when Koska came into the medbay.

He explained that Koska felt and described how Bo looked happier lately, and she wanted her friend to continue to be happy. Din admitted he felt hurt (and ecstatic) at Koska's insinuation for Din and Bo to get together. For they were individual people and should have all rights and freedoms to dictate their lives. A political marriage, one without even talking to either of them, was wrong on many levels.

Bo wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She desperately wanted to redirect the Gauntlet round and scream in Koska's face. Demand to know her full reasoning. Koska knows all of Bo's history and her triggers. Koska knows how much each betrayal hurts Bo. Koska knows how much Bo holds her in her heart. Koska is the closest thing to family she has left. And yet she has betrayed her by offering to marry Bo off to her new leader. It didn't sound like Koska. But then Bo remembered the rumours about her and Din being an item. And how it was likely that Koska who started them

She knows Koska's claims about giving Din some legitimacy are bantha crap. She barely had any legitimacy to begin with. She joined Death Watch, she attacked Mandalore, she watched Maul kill her sister (and with it her legitimacy), and she besieged Mandalore. She let it slip into the empire's hands, she let a teenager hand her the Darksaber without a fight, and she was Mand'alor when her people were massacred. Bo doesn't have anything but the Nite Owls left.

Bo appreciated that Din was trying to create space for Bo's agency, if not a little insulted that she thought she would automatically reject such a proposal, as he was trying (and failing) to give the impression that he was insulted by such an insinuation. He would stumble as he would try and reassure Bo that she was perfect in every way, and he was only insulted because they had not asked him.

She had to suppress her embarrassment at his compliments, as this was not the time nor the conversation in which he should be saying them.

She got irritated when Din conveyed her longtime friends and allies reasoning for Din to become the new leader and how Din adamantly disputed their claims. He was always maddeningly modest to the point Bo wondered if the man had any self-confidence.

She had to admit Din did have good qualities. He is a good man, an impeccable warrior, honest (as evident by the fact that they were having this conversation), could be a fair and just leader, could find compromises where possible, treated people with respect regardless of rank or social status, a fantastic father, and surprisingly good in bed.

But it's too early in their relationship (if they can even call it that) to even contemplate marriage.

She also forced herself to see Koska and Axe's reasoning, for as much as she hates to admit it, they do have somewhat of a point. Din would make for a good Mand'alor. While she thinks she has set a low bar (the night of a thousand tears tends to do that), Din would surely succeed in light of Bo's colossal failure.

Bo cannot decide what element to focus on. Din being Mand'alor or her being his wife. Surely they are one and the same problem, but both feel like monumental changes to her life.

Bo stands and tells Din she needs time to think and speedwalks to her room.

—————————————————————————————

Din's throat hurts; in fact, everything hurts.

He wants to follow her, but he feels like he has broken her trust and anything that could have been between them. He saw her hold back her emotions. Her repeated glances in the direction of the cockpit. The progressive look on his face as his words seemed to break another piece of her heart with each reveal.

But even then, there was more. He had not said anything about wanting it. How he had caught himself imagining it over the last few weeks. Nor anything about the Ka'ra.

He beat himself up for telling her so early into their travels, believing it was a mistake now… But he couldn't keep it from her.

He decides to clean up and give her the space she has asked for. As much as it pains him to do so.

He worries going forward that she or he would think the other will have an ulterior motive if they make forward advances. He thinks telling her the truth has shot any hope of something more in the foot.

He doesn't trust himself. If he were by himself, he would just be bouncing world to work, hunting bounties until he could afford to buy a new ship. He already reached out to Peli to see if she could keep her eyes out for a new Razor Crest.

He thought they could just see out this mission, and if she doesn't want to be around him anymore, he would leave and go help out Boba.

Once the dishes are clean, he has no idea what to do. After checking the nav-computer, secretly wishing it would count down quicker, he decided it was probably a good idea to go to the crew quarters and try and make up some of the sleep he missed last night.

A few hours pass.

Din awakens in the crew cabin, hearing Bo call his name.

He clambers out of the cot and joins her in the communal area once more.

He sees her standing at attention. Her arms crossed, back straight. Her eyes look determined.

"Din, good. Sit," she says, and Din obliges. She's not in her armor, but she still has a commanding presence that Din admires and wishes he could have.

"I've thought about what you said. Firstly, thank you for telling me and being honest. I know a lot of other Mandalorians would have kept it a secret from me to then stab me in the back at the last minute." She begins.

Din couldn't help but interject, "Those are hut'uun (coward/worst possible insult). I'd never do that to you."

Her eyebrows raised. Telling him she was not pleased with the interruption, but her eyes and the slight twitch at the corners of her mouth suggest she was very pleased with the content.

Steeling her commander face on once more. "Secondly, while they have a point, they have splintered my command and the Nite Owls. Inviting dissension, and if we don't handle this well… war."

Din was shocked. He never considered going to war with Bo over this. He just thought she'd stab him and be done with it.

She obviously picked up on his surprise. "It's happened to me before. But given that you have made it known that you would pass the saber to me if you could, even until Grogu comes of age. I don't want it to come to that. Grogu needs his father. So we do need to handle this situation tactically."

Din nodded. It pained him to know she'd been betrayed like this before, and he wanted to ask her who. So he could hunt them down and kill them personally (even though they're already dead). Din was very happy that she agreed with his stance against war between them.

"Therefore, I propose a trial run. Din, you will assume the rank and title of your station. Your task is, if the reports of Mandalorians are indeed Clan Awaud or other Mandalorians, you will bring them into the fold. However, that looks or plays out. I will watch and assist you in this endeavour. I will judge your actions, give advice, and counsel as would befit my future station as one of your council, which is non-negotiable, by the way."

She leans over and gives Din a look of 'nod if you agree, which is your only choice,' which he complies with immediately. He was always going to give her a position on his council. If Koska got her way, his wife would rule alongside him as an equal.

"Good. Now, before we shake hands, is there anything else you want to tell me?" She asked like she knew he was hiding something.

Din looks at her and hesitantly admits, "Yes, but I wanted to talk to my Goran (armorer) first. But with sightings of her being very scarce, I'd take talking to any Goran. I need to make sense of something before telling you, as I'm not sure if it was real," Din admits.

Bo puts a hand on his chin and thinks before looking back at Din. "Acceptable. As long as it doesn't pose a threat to me or the Nite Owls," which Din nods to, but in reality, it poses the same threat as him taking up his station. Axe and Koska thought it was real and reasoned that it was incredibly likely it was. He thought he could ask Bo if she got a Ka'ra vision as Mand'alor.

"Now, on the topic of the other stuff," obviously referring to the marriage stuff, "I am not against it per se. I was raised expecting an arranged political marriage, given the fact that I was second in line. But with the Clan and then the Clone Wars, there was never a suitable candidate. While some tried," she paused. Din saw the look of someone reliving a painful flashback before she shook her head. Bringing her back to the present.

"None ever got close to my hand to the point I disdain the thought of that. So I have a secondary proposal. We are not in a relationship, and in truth, barely know each other. So instead of jumping into anything. Especially if you're only on a trial run for the title. Then let's just get to know each other. If something sparks, then great, sure, we'll get married. If it doesn't, I will still be on your council with no hard feelings."

Din was disheartened when she said they didn't know each other. He thought they didn't know everything but had a decent thing going. If he really thought about it (which he forcefully didn't), he thought there were flickers of a spark already. If she thought about it (which she also didn't), she knew there was a spark, and she may already like him a lot if Koska has already seen something to do something this drastic (still wants to yell at her until she loses her voice).

She offered her hand to him, and Din accepted. She pulled him to his feet. "Deal on both proposals?" she asked. Din nodded and said, "I agree," and the two Mandalorians shook hands.

Of course, the two wouldn't realize the sparks that were set off during their journey to the Instrop Sector.

Chapter Text

The trip was understandably awkward at first. The revelation that Din will be in a trial run for both the title of Mand'alor and possibly even a relationship with Bo-Katan was unnerving.

He worried endlessly if he would make a mistake or say the wrong thing to her. While admittedly he did, and she chewed him out for his stupidity, her anger never lasted for long after his apology. As she learned that when he'd say, "I will try and do better," he actually did. And not try for a while and then go back into the bad habits; she could see him sometimes about to say or do the thing, but holding back and would admit he thought about it when asked.

They found it too awkward to focus on their relationship first, and knowing Din's public speaking needed work (from his speech to the Nite Owls), they decided to focus on the Mand'alor stuff first.

The two (mainly Bo) would come up with a speech or possible talking points for Clan Awaud. She could tell, like last time, he was deeply uncomfortable and would initially barely be able to get through the speech in front of her.

However, she caught him practising when he must have thought he was alone. She would hear mumbles of his normal speech cadence from the crew's bunks, but primarily she would hear him rehearse in the fresher. She would hear him run through his opening lines, trying different tones and phrases. “Honored members of Clan Awaud, I stand before you not as conqueror, but as your humble servant…” Then she could hear him beat himself up before trying again. He occasionally stumbles over a phrase, frowns, then rolls his shoulders and tries again. Unseen, Bo watches from the doorway, a soft smile of pride on her lips.

One night, they decided to gaze at the hyperspeed lights as they went past. Not for long enough to be ill or anything. They ended up talking about themselves.

Bo would share stories about Kalevala, flying round the steep cliffs and rock faces. She described her basic training at Cairo Murid and how she would try and climb the peaks the fastest despite her smaller stature than some of the other recruits. Din couldn't help himself from making a joke, "At least you're aware you're small," before receiving a deserved punch in the shoulder.

Din shared memories of his birth parents and things he barely remembered about Ad Vectina. His parents were simply a seamstress and a fabric salesman to the village. His dad made a distinct but lovely stew. His mom always gave the best hugs and would sing him to sleep whenever he had a bad dream.

Din shared stories of his Buir. The man had written both the Creed and the Resol'nare on his helmet to show those who were looking what truly mattered to him. Din recalls learning how most of Din's skills and tricks actually came from Buir. Din gets misty-eyed when he remembers that Buir added Din's name to his helmet a few weeks before he died. Din didn't go into details other than saying, "He died protecting me." Bo put her hand on Din's chest and said, "This is the way," matching Din's reverence that he used for her father.

He held her in his arms for the rest of the night. He was overcome by the desire to kiss her in that moment, but held off. He was still worried about making the first move. She eventually fell asleep in his arms, and he carried her to bed. She didn't let him go, though. 'Manda, her grip is strong,' he thought as he tried to pull away, but to do so would rip his flight suit. She had a handful of it, so eventually he surrendered and fell asleep in her bed.

That morning, she woke up with a smile on her face and warmth under her chin. They didn't do anything last night other than share a bit of their past. She didn't ask for it; he just started asking about her. He was tactful enough to know to avoid asking about her days in Death Watch. Preferring information before it. She appreciated him sharing. She's almost positive she is the only one who knows about his parents' occupation and cooking skills (she wonders if he inherited that, as the meals he has been making so far have been miles above her usual meals). She now knows that some of his tricks, he uses when they spar come from his Buir and no one else. The fact that he has been showing both her and the other Nite Owls makes her heart swell.

She can't deny that it has been easy. She wishes she hadn't put the roadblock in her way. She had enjoyed the two times they had sex. More than she'd care to admit. She is concerned about why he won't make a move. Does he not want her? Is he only sleeping with her because she wants it? If they get married, will it still be like this? she wonders.

Sure, he has been physically close to her. When they were stargazing last night, he put his arm around her. He has never shied away from her or her touch since that night in her office. He has put more trust in her than he has in anyone else, multiple times, if his improved kissing is any indication. He has been without his armor for their trip, showing how he is willing to be vulnerable around her.

She peers up at him from her place on his chest. She sees the sliver of his olive skin and some recently shaved facial hair. She was worried they'd argue about cleaning up after he shaved, like she had to with Axe and Fen Rau. But Din has been actively trying to keep the fresher as clean as he left it after his punishment cleaning.

She knows his eyes are brown and that he has a moustache that is likely dark. She has kissed his various features multiple times during their intimate moments, but she still struggles to picture what he looks like under that helmet. She wonders if she'll ever get to see it. She knows he must be attractive. Her gut tells her that. And that Koska (that traitor) said that "someone with that voice and swagger can not possibly not be hot."

She snuggles back down into him and falls back to sleep, to be awoken later with the smell of Caff.

One night, after Din had gone through a deep dive of Bo's mess hall, he had found various dried herbs and spices and thought he could try and make his dad's stew for her. She seemed excited when he described it to her when they gazed at the stars. Din worked on it all day. He knew consciously he would not be able to get it perfect, but he wanted to try for Bo.

The smell wafted through the mess hall for the entire day. It was savoury and spicy enough to make Bo salivate, and she kept creeping into the kitchen for a taste until Din would swat her hand with a wooden spoon.

When dinnertime came around, she was finally allowed to devour the meal that had made her hungry the entire day, and it was well worth the wait. The stew was spicy enough to be a Mandalorian staple dish, and it warmed her down to the very core. Outmatching the cold of space. It wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, filling her with a sense of belonging that she had longed for amidst the vast emptiness of the galaxy. As she savoured each spoonful, she knew that this meal was not just nourishment; it was a reminder of his home and family. She felt privileged and honoured to be allowed to know this part of him and endeavoured to show him the same when they stopped off for a resupply.

Early in the trip, when Din called Grogu, she wanted to give him privacy with his son, but she could not help watching this adorable man talk to his baby. The child would coo and babble, and Din would talk like he understood what was said. It was a heartwarming scene, filled with gentle laughter and the soft sounds of their bond. She smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest as she witnessed the deep connection between them, a reminder that even in the galaxy's chaos, love could thrive. And deep down, she wanted a part of that for herself.

She was curious when he started talking about her to the child. "Hey, buddy, do you remember the red lady from Trask and the cruiser?" When the child nodded, he continued, "Well, I'm here with her now, and, um, I think we should talk. There's a situation here, kiddo, and we're trying to figure it out by helping each other," the child coos. "Yeah, she's been a great help. She helped me when I was sick, remember?" Grogu babbles both happily and sadly at the memory.

Din looked directly at Bo. He must have known she was there the whole time. She comes over and joins him. He puts his arm round her, and she leans into him. "Hi Grogu, we never really had the chance to meet each other. I am Bo-Katan, but you can call me Bo, as it's a bit of a mouthful." She was surprised that she immediately thought to give her shortened name to the child, but her reasoning made sense.

The child babbles and attempts her name along the lines of "bu," which is adorably close enough. Bo gives a rare, broad smile, her first genuine display of affection toward Grogu. Din watches as she imitates the baby’s squeaks and whispers along with his son in her ear of what he thinks the child says. It allows her and the child to have a conversation that flows like the previous one.

She learns so much about Grogu. That he likes frogs and swallows them whole (totally not disturbing to imagine). That his training is going well, although he's not on his best behaviour, which cracks her and Din up. Grogu does flips and jumps that the camera barely shows, but Bo sees the smile on Grogu's face.

She can feel Din's grip tighten on her shoulder, and she looks up at him. She can almost feel the happiness in his relaxed body language. And imagines the man with the biggest grin she can never see.

Another day, the two Mandalorians are sparring in hand-to-hand combat. They don't want to get rusty over the two weeks of space travel, but the limited space of the ship means no weapons, nor a proper spar. But nothing they have not done before.

Din had learned most of Bo's feints and tricks, but not all. And vice versa. With less of his gear and predictable environmental elements (e.g., drop chairs or stairs), Din was unable to use most of his tricks. So he relied on strength and endurance.

Din’s strikes are deliberate; Bo’s counters are faster than he expects, as she is relying on her speed and precision.

They go at it; Din knows she will get mad if he holds back, so he doesn't pull his punches, and neither does she. They will both be bruised after it, but it's nothing they are not used to.

After a hefty punch to the cuirass, causing her to stumble. She forms an idea. She curls over, faking pain. Din's posture loosens, and his guard lowers. He peers over to see if she is truly hurt, leaving him off balance. Bo sweeps his extended leg out from under him and rolls over, pinning him to the ground.

His hands instinctively go to her hips, and she peers down at him. She unconsciously thinks they should try one time with the helmet still on so she can keep her eyes open, and she clenches around nothing at the thought. She peers down at him as he has made no move to break her pin (which is admittedly very weak). She is guessing he is looking directly at her face. Imagining those brown eyes on her, she licks her bottom lip before biting it.

He groans as his hands shift down to her ass. 'He's finally made the first move,' she thinks, forgetting that it was likely her facial expressions that were likely an indication of her intent.

That night, at her request, the helmet does indeed stay on, and she gets to watch each of his muscles twitch and each moment she has been missing during their intimate moments.

They fall asleep naked in each other's arms, the blanket at the other's head keeping them warm in the cold of space.

After that night, he spent every night in her bed, both clothed and unclothed. Each night, she managed to get the best sleep she had ever had. Apparently, so did he. She would normally wake in the middle of the night with a memory she would give anything to forget resurfacing. Could be the face of an innocent she killed, Satine's murder, a Mandalorian she used to train beside, attempting to kill her, or the night of a thousand tears.

Instead, she remembered the occasional dreams of the two of them. She once dreamt of them laughing in a green field together. Once with him standing with the Darksaber raised and her by his side. His free hand in hers. Once she imagined what a child of theirs would look like, a little girl or boy playing alongside Grogu.

Most important of all, she dreamt of introducing Din to Satine and her father. She imagined what their reactions would be. She thought her dad would be faking hostility, like, "You better not break my little Bo'ika's heart, young man," or Satine's initial dislike due to him being a warrior through and through, turning into mutual appreciation as Bo thought Din and her sister had surprisingly similar views on a few topics.

She thought her family would really like Din, and she realized she really likes him too.

Ultimately, she was trained to be a light sleeper like all Mandalorian warriors. She could never know who or what was sneaking up on her in the night. But with Din, it felt like she could trust him to have her back. Letting her relax into a deep slumber. Still, her training would have her awake at the sound of a large noise, which sometimes would be Din stubbing his toe or shin on something as he went to the bathroom.

It initially worried her, but when Din assured her he would have her back, she allowed herself to experience the calmness of deep sleep. Their mornings together became more eventful as she felt like she had more energy, and the caffeine supply took less of a hit in the mornings, replacing it with calming tea.

Din started joining her for breakfast. He would hold his helmet up enough to get a forkful or spoonful of food into his mouth. She initially looked away, but he assured her he was fine with her looking. "You've seen pretty much everything else," he reasoned. She blushed at the thought but smiled ear to ear.

Bo would teach him various games or give him tips on how to improve at sabacc. She enjoyed playing the strip version of the game with him as she got to see all of him in the light of the ship's day cycle. He thought he was improving (she began losing on purpose), and when he realized he wasn't, he pounced on her over the table, causing the two of them to burst out in laughter.

At night, he allowed her to touch his face. He would twitch away at first, assuring her that it was reflex. He eventually would lean into her touch. She would repeatedly feel each of his facial features, trying to map them out. Refining her mental picture of him.

Eventually, they stopped off at their destination to resupply. Fuel was easy, as the landing pad they were assigned to had a mechanic who would top up the gauntlet with a few credits. Of course, Din paid the mechanic the credits first. "Din, it's my ship; I can pay for my fuel."

He led her off the platform with a hand on the small of her back. "Yeah, but we're on my mission, plus because I have been staying with you, I haven't had any expenses, so I've had a friend of mine on the lookout for a new ship for me." She would have given Din a gauntlet if she could. All the fleet's ships already had an allocated pilot for some time now, and Kom'rk-class ships were a dime a dozen now that MandalMotors can no longer produce the ships due to the purge.

Bo decided to go shopping for Din, not for a ship but for a weapon. She knows the significance behind such an act for Mandalorians and hopes that he will appreciate and reciprocate. She knew she liked him and could imagine them being together, not just for a political marriage, but if the Darksaber wasn't an issue, she could see herself just being with him. He was still trying to be better, still rehearsing his speech. She would teach him all that she knew. Automatically, she knew he'd ask her to rule by his side as an equal, as that's just who he is.

But to go shopping for him, she needs to ditch him. She suggests he look for any local bounties, as she knows he hasn't been able to scratch the hunter itch inside of him since he's been with them. He gladly accepts, and she is glad he doesn't dote on her safety. She knows he thinks it's important but knows he knows she can handle herself and will call him if shit hits the fan.

She hopes she can find him a new Amban sniper rifle, as he admitted to her that it was one of his most prized possessions that was lost when Gideon blew up the crest. He still carried around the ammunition in hopes of finding another one day, 'the sentimental prick,' she thought.

She decided to comm the quartermaster of the Nite Owls, Nera Tal, and ask her to see if she can find one after Bo strikes out. Nera calls back, saying they do have a disruptor rifle on the base that could suit Din's needs. Bo thinks she could make part of Axe's punishment to ensure the rifle is modified to Din's specifications.

Since she lucked out on snagging the rifle but has a plan, she decides to follow through on her promise and buys more cooking ingredients for her family's uj'alay recipe. And thought buying Din new utensils could be nice.

She sees Din already at the ship's ramp when she is returning with her shopping. She was curious and was about to ask until he explained, "The bounty took one look at me and pissed themselves, begging to be brought in alive."

She chuckles at that. "Guess your reputation precedes you," she quips. Din mentions he already swept the ship for trackers. As he learned his lesson after Gideon tracked the Crest with one.

He was really grateful for the new utensils and helped her make the traditional Mandalorian dessert. Apparently, the Kryze secret ingredients are sea salt and single malt.

Din hasn't seen Bo drink during their travels, nor has she invited him to. He was initially worried about a possible problem. Oddly enough, Bo confesses.

"After the purge, I drank far too much, and it became a crutch. It got to the point that Koska dragged me into a therapist's office that I began to repair my relationship with it. I guess she's always worried I might slip back down into that hole, and that's probably why she latched onto the idea of us."

She turned to look Din in the eyes. "I'm telling you this so you can watch my back. I'm trusting you with this. It's not a problem, but if it becomes one…" She trails off.

Din moves over to her, puts his hand on her back, and says, "I'll catch you, Bo. I promise," he says softly. She looks up at him with unshed tears. He angles his head down to her forehead in a Keldabe kiss.

She leans into him, both his hand and his head. An unspoken thank you.

Chapter Text

They continue travelling until they get to the Instrop Sector. She explains that Awaud used to occupy Vlemoth Port, a planet in the sector, and that is likely their best first guess. Specifically, the settlement named Arumorut.

Nothing on the initial planet scans shows any indication that there is life in the settlement, but Bo knows that they must have been good at hiding to circumnavigate the empire.

They meet no resistance, no calls to organize where to land. Complete radio silence.

Bo knows roughly where the settlement is, and they decide to land within a click in case it goes sideways. The pair does their final checks. Ammo, medical supplies (Bo takes extra because Din "is a dumbass"), explosives, and rations. Everything that can fit inside their belt compartments so as not to slow them down.

A dense forest surrounds them. They could play it safe and try and be stealthy, but they are not assaulting the settlement, just checking it out.

They walk for a couple of minutes before both of their helmet sensors go off.

Instinctively, they reach for their weapons before a voice calls out, "Don't even try it, utreekov (fools/idiots)."

Complying, the two raise their hands in surrender, they share a glance, and Bo gestures with her head, 'Go on.' Din hesitantly begins speaking, "Su… Su cuy'gar (hello). My name is Din Djarin. Tion gar gai? (What's your name?)," Din asks.

There is a beat of silence before the voice asks, "Are you Kyr'tsad (Deathwatch)?" They say the Mando'a term with malice. Bo is not surprised, but Din keeps his cool.

"nayc (no)." He pauses after silence falls again. He hears Bo whisper, "More words, Din."

"Right, ahh. We have heard whispers of the honourable Clan Awaud and have come to investigate, if not call a sha'kajir (ceasefire over a meal). Who am I speaking with?"

Din and Bo hear multiple jetpack sounds and see the landing of multiple Mandalorians in full red armor, surrounding them.

One stands out. A male with additional armor. He wears Clone Wars-era kama and extended pauldrons. The pauldron sticks out and is covered in additional ammo pouches, but Din can see the faded orange underneath them. His karma skirt has a green trim.

So Din thinks he assembled what he could find rather than served in the Clone Wars, but he could be wrong. Looking closer, Din notices that his armor is a mixture of Beskar and Durasteel and banged up at the looks of it.

The man holsters one of his DC-17 blaster pistols (another Clone Wars-era relic). and removes his helmet. He sees another version of Bobba's face, if not older. "The name's Mero Beroya. Riddurr (partner) of Vera Beroya, chieftain of Clan Awaud"

He can almost hear Bo's irritation and her spouting the same shit she did back in the cantina on Trask. But she doesn't.

Mero continues, "Didn't know we were in conflict with a Clan Djarin. I don't recognize your signet, and trust me, I've been around."

Din lowers his hands slowly in an attempt to reduce hostilities. "You're not. We," he indicated with his hand and helmet to Bo. "Just want to talk, not fight."

"Isn't she Deathwatch's second?" Mero asks, obviously referring to Bo. She squares up to the man and simply says, "Death Watch is no longer. It was misguided and led by a monster of a man," her tone laced with malice and conviction.

Mero is convinced as he turns his back to the two, dons his helmet, and tells them, "Follow me; I will take you to the chieftain."

The pair is led into a hidden entrance, where Imps would never find it, and goes underground. They pass many caves, some filled with supplies, guards, or women and children. All look worse for wear.

Mero must have noticed the two looking at him. "Yeah, there are kids here, so think twice before betraying us, ok?" he says sarcastically.

Din refutes with "Children are the future. This is the way." Mero pauses and looks at Din. "Ah, so you're a creedbound?" He says it like a statement and a question, to which Din answers with a nod.

They resume and are led to a large cavern room, one with a makeshift carved throne. Stacks of imperial helmets line either side. A woman sits, her legs spread, her back square with the throne back. Her right hand is on an upright axe with a handle long enough for it to be a halberd. She is sitting relaxed but projecting deadly authority.

Din and Bo stand before her, a few feet from her throne, surrounded by fully armed Mandalorians. The woman does not speak first, so when Din looks at Bo, she does the 'go on' look again. Din knows his initial start to his rehearsed speech is out the window now that he knows who he is speaking to.

"Chieftain Beroya. I am Din Djarin of Clan Mudhorn, no house. This," she says, indicating to Bo, who removes her helmet. "Is Bo-Katan Kryze of Clan and House Kryze" turning back to the chieftain, ignoring the murmurs behind him?

"We are here because we received reports of Mandalorians in red armor in this and in surrounding sectors. We are glad to know Clan Awaud is still alive. We have no quarrel with you or your clan and mean you no harm. We are on a quest to unite Mandalorians to retake Mandalore, as we have on good authority that the planet is under Imperial occupation and the remnants are mining the planet's Beskar for their own purposes."

Din hears the murmurs behind him grow louder at the mention of Imperial presence on Mandalore and the mining of the sacred Beskar. Chieftain Beroya has to bang her axe on the floor to quiet them all. It rings enough to give Din the indication that it is made of pure Beskar, like his spear.

Din is unsure where to go from there, as the axe took him out of the rehearsed groove he was on. So he bewilderingly pauses enough that Chieftain Beroya has to speak.

"Din Djarin. This is grave news, but some was already known to us." She indicates with her free hand the pile of helmets to her left. "These are the buckets of those exporting a shipment of Beskar." Turning back to Din, "We did not know where, but now we do." She pauses. "Is that the Darksaber, or do my eyes deceive me?" she asks.

Din looks at Bo, who nods. He unclips the darksaber and ignites the plasma blade, letting all present see the relic. "I won this in rightful combat over Moff Gideon in defence of my foundling," he announces to the crowd. Their voices grow so loud that once again, Chieftain Beroya has to bang her axe on the ground.

"Do you expect us to heed the call?" she asks.

Din steps forward. "I have not formally taken the title… yet," he adds to the surprise of Bo, who assumed it was a foregone conclusion since they had not talked about it much on their flight since the first morning. "I can only ask for your clan's aid," he said.

"Why would we help you? You are of an unknown clan and are creedbound. You travel with a Kryze, a descendant of the one who forced us off Mandalore. This one," pointing at Bo, "served Deathwatch until she rebelled against the Mauldilorians, calling us for aid. Her civil war ended in the deaths of my clan members, let alone her actions inside the death cult," she said scornfully.

Din sighs. Bo did warn him that it would not be easy. And Axe said many are bogged down by a long history of grudges. If he is the one to unite them, he must be better.

"Regardless of whether you help us in our quest. When we have retaken our homeworld, I freely offer your people a chance to return home. In fact, I welcome it. Our people are scattered like stars in the galaxy. We were hunted endlessly by an empire that is splintered. It is time for our people to come home," he explains. Chieftain Beroya tilts her head like she is curious, so Din continues.

"I understand you have no reason to trust me, as your claims against me are valid. I hope to earn your trust, not demand it. We must remember our past but focus our anger and violence against those who would stand against us. We must live with the tenets of the Resol'nare but look forward to the future."

Chieftain Beroya scoffs. "What future? The empire turned Manda'yaim to glass—"

Din interjects, "—We will 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 is amazed at Din's conviction, and apparently so is Chieftain Beroya.

She leans back into her throne and puts the chin of her helmet in her free hand. A typical pose of 'I'm thinking.' After a few moments, she looks over to her riddur, who comes over so she can whisper to him. They go back and forth until he says something that causes her to nod. Mero stands back but stays by his Riddur's side.

"Your conviction is admirable, and your words have merit, but I must ask. Will you make us all swear to your creed? I am not surprised that the Kryze does not"

Din shakes his head. "No, I have my faith, but I will not force it onto others. If they live by the tenets of the Resol'nare and protect the foundlings and children of Mandalore, then they are Mandalorian in my book."

She nods, then asks, "You said you had not taken up the title yet; why?" Bo was also curious, and her face made it evident as she looked at Din.

"I, uh. I question my worthiness and seek the counsel of my tribe's armorer. However, many of my tribe died on Nevarro when I rescued my foundling from the imperials on the planet."

Chieftain Beroya asked for more information, and Din explained the circumstances around that night and Grogu. How he was initially a bounty that Din handed over and immediately regretted it and went back for. Causing that night to happen. Din continued explaining why Gideon wanted Grogu—something in his blood to do with his species' longer lifespans or Jetti powers. How Gideon never stopped hunting them and how, when Grogu was trying to contact the Jetti, Gideon captured him. Culminating in the rescue on the light cruiser.

Chieftain Beroya absorbed the information, nodding along as Din spoke. Letting silence fall when Din was finished.

After a few moments. She stood. "Din Djarin, you claim to want to earn our trust and doubt your worthiness for your title, that by all accounts is yours by right. Clan Awaud will stake no challenge, for I task you with claiming a relic of our ancestor, Aga Awaud, known as Mandalore the Uniter."

"His armor by rights belongs to me and my clan; however, my father, Nam Beroya, died in the defence of the Talz from Zygerrian slavers, wearing Aga's armor. I task you with retrieving his armor. Our last intel suggests it is nearby, as we have been looking for the armor for generations. If you are worthy of the Darksaber, speak to the Ka'ra, let it guide you to the armor, and return it to us. Then all the warriors of clan Awaud will pledge to aid you in this quest and will heed your call."

The Mandalorians surrounding Din and Bo began clanging their vambraces together. Din looked at Bo, who had a 'really? You have the worst luck' kind of facial expression.

Bo walked over and began detaching his right vambrace. "Bo, what are you doing?" he asked in a whispered voice. "You have to hold the sabre barehanded, or so the legend says. "I never got a Ka'ra vision, so I thought the whole thing was bogus." She paused. "It could've been because it was given to me, not won."

She pulled off his glove (practically claiming that they are together) and slotted it into her belt, and gave him space to ignite the blade, but she was close enough to catch him if he fainted. She remembered Ahsoka would get a bit faint when she got visions.

Din grasped the hilt in his hand; he was thinking about the previous vision and thought it would be similar. He decided to focus on the chieftain's recent words and ignited the blade.

A hush fell over Din’s mind as the Ka’ra took hold. The air around him rippled, and then, beyond sight and sound, the vision began:

Din stood on bitter ice beneath a slate-grey sky; the snow turned red with blood. Mandalorian, Talz, and Zygerrian bodies littered the surrounding area.

He then panned out, seeing a man in red Mandalorian armor on his knees, panting. One of his hands was holding his side like he had been wounded, as red blood seeped out and fell onto the snow below. Din saw a Zygerrian walk over, and with his electrowhip, he strangled the Mandalorian, who was gasping for air before going limp. Din watched them remove his armor, noting the Zygerrians were battered and wounded.

Din then saw inside a ship; the previous Zygerrians were trying to keep the ship in space, but the panels were spitting electricity at them, and alarms were blaring. Din watched as the two slavers were so focused on the ship's system, they did not see the ground get closer and closer.

Din felt the crash as much as he heard it. He felt himself burning as the ship must have burst into flames when a spark or open flame made contact with leaking fuel.

Through the haze of collapsing metal and roiling smoke, Din’s vision jerked upward, beyond the smoking wreckage, and the world stretched out in stark contrasts. To the north, brittle pines clung to rocky slopes. A shallow valley of red air and temperate. The sun and moon are spinning, going from still to spinning faster and faster. Din could see the crater in the hill that the crashed ship created become a home for a creature that was considerably taller than an average humanoid and had sharp, curved claws and sharp teeth to snare their prey. The creatures had short, thin arms but long and powerful legs that made them appear to be quite fast. They had red eyes and spiky carapaces.

Din observed the passage of time; he saw many attempts to salvage the wreckage, each time the creatures devoured whoever got close. He saw that the initial attempts were Zygerrian, but then the rest were all Twi'leks.

The vision ended. Din was in Bo's arms as she must have caught him. "Din, are you alright? Did you see anything?"

Din's voice almost failed him, but he managed to croak out, "Ryloth, the armor is on Ryloth."

Chapter Text

The two walk back to the ship in silence. Both are completely amazed and shocked in their own way.

Bo is shocked because she never got a vision, and Din did.

Din is shocked because his second one felt similar to his first one, meaning that the vision was real. And everything they said. "Still have the words of the creed forged in your heart," and "You are not Dar'manda. Your soul is intact."

He was still conflicted and confused about how the Creed stands if he has broken it. He broke the way (that I shall walk the Way of the Mand'alor) by removing his helmet. Din knows the ancient way is the way of Mand'alor the First. For it was that ancient Taung warrior who wore Mandalore's Mask made out of Mythosaur bone.

And it was Mand'alor the Indomitable who wore the same mask during the Great Sith War. Passing then to Mand'alor the Ultimate, and then Preserver. Four of the greatest leaders in Mandalorian history, the reason for the iconic T-shaped visor

Is he exempt because he is technically the Mand'alor? That can't be right, can it? To boil all of that history and legend into a technicality.

Mandalorian historians have been debating which was more important, the Creed or the Resol'nare, to the Mandalorian way of life. Both claim that if one breaks a tenet, they become Dar'manda.

Ultimately, the second vision has given him more questions than answers. But his questions are more about his faith rather than the existence of the Ka'ra anymore.

When they got to the ship, Bo strutted past Din straight to the cockpit to plot their course to Ryloth. Din could not remember why none of Clan Awaud was coming. However, once coming out of the vision (that only lasted a second yet felt like hours), he was admittedly very disoriented and left Bo to do the talking.

Ryloth was in a nearby system, so it would only take them a few hours of hyperspace travel, enough time to debrief and plan for the op.

Din doesn't know where to go. Part of him wants to be alone; the other is desperate for Bo, but not to talk or anything, just to hold her and be held.

Oddly enough, the helmet feels like too much at that moment; it feels claustrophobic or restrictive. He needs to get it off.

He goes to the captain's quarters, as that is where he has been sleeping for most of the trip. He barely gave the door a chance to close before he ripped his helmet off and threw it on the bed.

Din did not realize he was panting heavily. He put his left hand over his iron heart on his chest and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. When settled, he wiped down his face with both hands, pulling at the skin in irritation. Sighing deeply.

He then unclipped the Darksaber and brought it to his eye level. While his breathing had levelled, his mind was still racing.

He barely heard the door open behind him. He had to fight every instinct to turn around in case of a threat. But he threw the Darksaber on the bed, but stopped himself from reaching for his blasters.

Bo realized pretty quickly that the man had his helmet off. She saw the dark locks of hair where silver was normally. Din's olive ears poking out the sides, turning redder by the second. She shakily said, "Din?"

Neither made any attempt to move. While in a semi-similar situation to all those months ago on the bridge of the cruiser. She was not distracted by Gideon as she was looking directly at the man.

Din was torn between diving for his helmet and turning around. The conflict was new but stronger than Din had thought. Still undecided, he responded, "Yeah?"

"You… you okay?" She asked, her voice laced with concern, and her face matched her tone.

Din sighed again. If it were anyone else, he'd lie and say he was fine or he was okay. But it was Bo to whom he always tried to give the truth. And the truth is, he was not.

"Honestly, no," he says as he puts his hands on his hips. Bo noticed his hands were trembling.

She always appreciated his honesty. Her life is full of liars. She hesitantly takes a step forward. Logically, she could look at the floor or cover her eyes with her hand, but she couldn't stop looking at his head. His adorable ears were as red as her hair. She wondered if hers turned that red. She knows how good her hands in his hair feel, but she has just figured out how desperately she wants to thread her fingers through it in the light of day.

He should have cared. He should stop her, but he continued. "The vision. I… felt his pain as he died. I felt the whip around my throat. I felt the crash. It wasn't like last time."

She paused. Face drain of color "last time?"

Din explained the previous vision. Seeing his parents and buir and then hearing the voice of the Ka'ra speak through them. He repeated all they said.

She should be angry; he kept something that major from her. But at the back of her mind, his words from the morning they took off spoke up. "Was it the thing you weren't sure was real? That you wanted to talk to your Goran (armourer) first," she asked.

She saw him nod.

Part of her still wants to be angry, but the other part reasons that he did want to tell her, but he wanted clarification first.

"So now you think it was real?" she asks. Din nods again.

Silence falls as the words of the Ka'ra race in her head just as much as they are racing inside his.

She breaks the silence, deciding to be honest. "Part of me wants to slap the shit out of you for keeping it from me, but the other wants to kiss you right now."

'It's now or never,' he thinks. They haven't decided on the trial run of their relationship. Din's reasons: if I want her to be by my side, she deserves to know my face and be my family. But he is scared. What if she doesn't like what she sees? What if she doesn't want to be with him? What if he failed the trial run?

"Kriff it," he says aloud.

And turns.

Now his gaze caught hers in the wavering light, the brown eyes she knew were there now connecting with hers in a manner she never thought would happen.

Bo-Katan’s breath stuttered. The sight of him unmasked, contours of his face marred by past battles, a half-smile trembling at his lips, makes her heart throb at the sight. The muted glow of the captain’s quarters painted his features in soft relief: the sharp line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his lips, and the honest light in his eyes—eyes that held both apology and need.

She realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out in a whisper. He was beautiful in a way she hadn’t permitted herself to see: honest and vulnerable.

Her mind now made up, she dove towards him, mouths clashing together. Her hands threaded into his hair and flight suit. His wrapped around her in an embrace.

There was nothing slow about this kiss. It was a fierce collision of desire and longing, an unspoken promise igniting between them. Time seemed to dissolve around them, leaving only the heat of their connection and the world outside forgotten.

Tongues clashed as both were eager to gain entry into the other's mouth. Back and forth. Bo hated herself for needing air, but she needed to see his face up close just as much.

He watched her eyes scan each inch of his face and tried not to wince at the scrutiny. Once she was done, she gave him a peck on the lips. And he laughed.

"Glad you chose the second option," he sarcastically quipped, and she swatted his chest.

"With that handsome face, I couldn't help myself," she quips back, matching his sarcastic tone.

She separated herself from his arms. "Come on, we need to discuss a plan," and he walked away to the cockpit. Her hips swaying side to side in both glee and seduction.

She shows him a planetary scan on the holoprojector. Din points to the southern sector of the planet. The terrain is a mixture of rocky, mountainous, and close to dense forests. He describes the creature he saw, and she immediately knew it to be a Gutkurr, as they are native to Ryloth and cause a lot of trouble. One can clear through a squad of men, but a breeding ground could wipe out a small army if they are not careful.

Din asks if they can attack from the sky with the gauntlet, but Bo explains that it's not a bad idea, but then leaves whoever's on the ground (Din) without backup. "Why aren't you the one going down there?" he asks jokingly.

"Cuz it's my ship, and you're the one trying to woo me, right?" she quips back.

"Woo you? How do you know you're not supposed to be wooing me?"

She cocks her eyebrow up, crosses her arms over her chest, and puts all of her weight on one leg that's slightly turned in. Saying nothing.

"Yeah, you're right," he admits. Causing her to laugh.

So they form a plan. Din loves a good plan, but with his luck, it always goes out the window almost immediately.

The Gauntlet’s ramp settled against the jagged rim of the gully just past the edge of Ryloth’s temperate forest, where wind-scarred pines gave way to ochre dunes and scrub. They trek to their target on high alert, as the Gutkurr are predator animals that can use their fast legs to ambush the two Mandalorians quickly.

They reach a ridge that should give them a vantage point on the crash site. They are decently far away enough not to immediately get detected, but close enough for a decent look. They lie down and peek over the ridge.

Before them lay the crater rim where the Zygerrian slaver ship had crashed years ago: a blackened scar across the overgrown and red sandy landscape. The ragged wreckage, half-buried in grit and sprouting vines, lay dark and jagged. They can see at least 5 of the creatures; two are feasting on a dead Twi'lek to the left. Their blue skin was fading quickly into red. The other three are sleeping, using the wreckage as a shield from the elements and perhaps for a sense of warmth.

Din checks his thermals, and the ship itself has two groups of heat signatures. More creatures inside, but the other seemed to be the hatching room. Din looks at Bo and does some Tusken hand signals, saying, "What's the bet that the armor is where the eggs are?" She raises her shoulders, indicating that she is confused and doesn't know what he is saying.

He decides to be simple. He points to his Beskar. Then to the Gutkurr and gestures for smaller, and does the "surrounded" hand gesture he learned in the fighting corps. This time, she nods.

They know if they attack, the creatures could call more. But if they get closer, they may wake up the resting ones. They weigh their options carefully, knowing that a hasty decision could spell disaster. With a determined look, he signals for her to follow his lead as they inch closer, maintaining a low profile to avoid disturbing the slumbering creatures.

Together, they crested the rim and descended the shallow gully. Din with his spear at the ready and Bo with a drawn vibroknife.

Din thinks he can maybe take out one of them by throwing the spear, so he reverses his grip and grabs the darksaber with the other. They approach step by step slowly. They are a dozen feet away until one of the creatures stirs.

He stops, and she does too. Din watches the waking beast. It sleepily begins to wake up, unfurling itself and standing. It looks to the air and sniffs. 'Great,' Din thinks. Pulling back the spear.

Simultaneously, as the beast looks at the two Mandalorians slowly, Din lets the spear loose. Throwing it like how he threw the Darksaber back in the base that is now the Nite Owls' home. And Bo begins sprinting towards the still sleeping ones.

The creature begins to angle its head up to cry out, but just as it is about to, the spear pierces through its soft underside. Killing both the beast and the alarm.

Din's body follows through with the throw as Bo manages to get close enough to stab the creature in the neck and cut it down. The Gutkurr wakes as the blade pieces and chokes on its own blood. Din begins sprinting towards the feasting Gutkurr. He plans to bury the dead Twilek when this is all over.

He ignites the darksaber and decapitates the first Gutkurr, the innocent man's leg in its mouth. The other begins attacking and swiping at Din. Its claw makes contact with Din's jetpack. Din swings around and thrusts up through the beast's neck, the plasma blade repeating the same thing his spear did.

He hears Bo struggling with her own as she was unable to kill the remaining sleeping Gutkurr. But it is so focused on attacking her, it has not screeched out in alarm. Yet.

He rushes to aid her, but she tells him to "go," suggesting he focus on the ones inside. There is a breach in the ship's hull to the rear. Din remembersthat  that was where the ship's ramp used to be. He hears the creatures inside before he sees them.

As he peers around the corner, one claw slashes at him, getting stuck in the wall. He ducks barely in time, and the creature's other claw thrusts towards him. Din weaved out of the way and slashed up with the darksaber. He cuts off both of the creature's front arms, and it yelps in pain. Din was about to pull his sabre down when he was shoved to the side, crashing into the ship's hull with a thud.

The creature screeches in his face before lashing with its claws. Din rolls out of the way of the right claw and uses his vambrace to block the left. Din sees the first Gutkurr and a third one start moving towards him. Din activates his flamethrower to force them back and open up some space for him to get up.

They yelp in fear and take steps back. Din, now on his feet, deactivates the flames and stands in a Shii-Cho, or Form 1, stance that he learned through the holovideos from Luke. Beast 3 leaps forward as Beast 2 is writhing in pain from flames to the face, and Beast 1 has no claws. Din sidesteps the right claw and slices off the arm before forcing an upswing to try and cut off the other arm. But no luck, as it was raised too high, so Din thrusts the darksaber through the beast's head. The plasma blade is sticking mostly outside the skull.

He deactivates and reactivates the blade like he did while rescuing the senator, ready to face the charging beast 1, whom Din spins out of the way of the charge. Slicing downwards, decapitating the Gutkurr.

One is left, and it's the one in pain. Or so he thought. As he was decapitating the beast 1, the second had recovered and is now screeching in alarm. "Kriff," he says as he stabs the beast where he thinks the lungs are, only to be shoved to the ground.

Manda, what he would have given to still have spare whistling birds right now. Din activates his flamethrower again; this time, the beast was ready, and while wounded, it ducked to the right and attacked Din. Biting at his arm, fangs digging deep into his bicep. Din was the one yelping in pain this time. He gritted his teeth and tried to swing the darksaber, but the crafty beast pinned his arm down with its foot.

Din was helpless; he tried kicking, but the beast's skinny leg was surprisingly tough, and it began pulling while holding his other arm stationary. The creature was trying to rip Din in two, and it was working. Din felt his shoulder dislocate with a loud pop. Din was yelling in pain.

He couldn't hear the vibroknife fly through the air into the beast's head over his own screams. But the pulling stopped.

"Always the damsel," he hears Bo say. He would have loved to quip, but he was in too much pain. He turned the sabre off, and with her help, he began pulling the beast's mouth off and out of his bicep. The process was excruciating but necessary. Luckily, they brought the extra medical supplies when they went to Arumorut.

Bo quickly tourniqueted his arm before applying a disinfectant that stung and caused Din to curse, "Osik (shit)," causing Bo to chuckle. "Suck it up, you baby," she said with mirth. Before applying a Bacta spray, wrap his arm. It's the best they can do for now.

She helps him up, reaching for his good arm. When standing, he decides to give her a Keldabe kiss, giving it as his thanks and conveying his appreciation for her.

He could have sworn she purred, but that could have been the Gutkurr hatchlings in the other room.

The Mandalorians walk into the room where Din knows the armor is. The room is covered in eggs, both hatched and new, and is covered in so much gunk that the floor and some of the walls are just pure alien mush rather than steel. Din wrinkled his nose at the sight, but he steeled himself; this was part of the mission. With a deep breath, he stepped further into the chaos, determined to retrieve the armor.

They should feel bad, but Bo helps him prop his injured arm at a less than 90-degree angle, matching hers, and the two activate their flamethrowers, burning the hatchlings, the eggs, and hopefully the gunk in one go.

The two of them know that they will be smelling the burnt flesh for some time as the screams of the hatchlings force Bo to relive the memory of the razing of the Ming Po settlement on Carlac. She didn't want to, but at the time, she was trying to prove herself loyal to Vizsla and Death Watch. The villagers' screams haunted her at night for months.

Din's gauntlet runs out first. And he tries to tell Bo to stop hers, but she does not hear him. The memory is too much. With his good arm, he grabs her. "BO!" snapping her out of the memory.

She apologizes, and Din makes a mental note to ask her about it later, but he has seen the signs before. In himself and the survivors of the night of a thousand tears.

Most of the gunk had burned away, so Din was able to find the crate with the armor inside. He thought to look in some of the others, but they may be short on time. Bo held outside; she had silently walked outside after returning to the present.

With the armor in hand, Din gathered it up and joined Bo outside, hearing blaster fire. She asked if he had it, and he said, "Yeah, so let's get the kriff out of here."

They begin sprinting so they can jetpack to the ship. Din's pack begins to sputter a few feet in the air; he starts yelling "shit shit shit" before Bo swoops down and catches him. Right before another Gutkurr was about to slash at Din. Her jetpack struggles with the weight, but it'll get them far away from the advancing pack before they will have to run the rest of the way.

Din takes this chance to throw a thermal detonator and say what he wanted to say when she quipped about him being a damsel, saying, "Aw, my knight in blue armor," causing her to laugh as the explosion kills the following beasts.

Chapter Text

The explosion gave the two the reprieve they needed to create space between them and the horde, enough so that when Bo's jetpack ran out, they could sprint to the ship without immediate threat.

Din held the ramp, firing off deterring shots while Bo sprinted to the cockpit and began the takeoff procedure.

The ship lifted off the ground just as the horde of creatures began to close in. Din in the drop zone area managed to gather his breath. Still with the bag of armor, he manages to stumble to the medbay area. It's small but has a more substantial amount of supplies to heal his new injury.

He reached for a cauteriser before stopping himself from grasping it. He could almost hear the medic's and Bo's voices in the back of his head from the lecture he received after the whole Darksaber cauterising, leading to a poisoning incident.

Instead, he began removing his armor. He hoped once the course had been set, Bo would come and help him. He managed to get the bad arm's vambrace and pauldrons off and unclipped that side's buckles on his chest plate. But attempting to move the bad arm caused him to yelp in pain as a surge pulsed through his body, making his vision go white.

He tried twice before he felt another pair of hands on his back. He looked over and saw those green eyes that he secretly adored.

A silent moment passed between them. Her eyes did all the talking, asking, Can I? receiving a nod in response. She managed to detach what Din couldn't and helped him pull off the flight suit top. Deeply intimate, and Bo had helped him before, but that was normally before bed or sex; this time was different.

Her field first aid had helped stave off infection, and with the supplies and help from Bo, he felt like he was getting five-star treatment. Her hands seemed to linger on his skin longer than normal. After each patch or bandage, she would place her hand on him for a moment. Din watched, her face painting her inner concern plainly, but the kindness and care shone through.

Once she was done, he decided to do something.

He reached up with his good hand towards his helmet. Once she realised what he was doing, she watched the movement. He saw the twinkle of a smile in her eyes as the sound of depressurisation broke the silence.

Removing the helmet was more of a mission than normal. The close quarters and the fact that he was using his non-dominant hand, but he made it work. Setting it down on the bench beside them, he looked back at Bo, who put a hand on his sternum.

Her eyes scanned his facial features once more; he felt like he would never get used to it, but this time, instead of watching and squirming under her scrutiny, he looked as she unconsciously licked her bottom lip and went to bite it.

With his now free hand, he reached for her face; she smiled and leaned into it. Closing her eyes at the touch. He leans towards her and kisses her.

It is the first time he has initiated much of the contact. Sure, he has kissed her forehead, cheeks, or hands and caressed her as they spent time together. This kiss was a new moment. It was chaste, yet filled with an undeniable spark that ignited something deeper within both of them.

He could feel her smile form on her lips. Once done, he touched his forehead to hers in a helmetless Keldabe kiss.

She wanted more, but knew in his injured state it was not the time. Hopefully, after they return Aga Awaud's armor to Chief Beroya, they might have time. Depending on how quickly the Bacta works. His shoulder will take longer than the gashes in his bicep.

Regardless, they move to the common area. Set out both his and Aga's armor. Unconsciously, they thought it would be a good idea to clean the ancient beskar out of respect and honor. So they lay it flat on the floor and form a work line. Din gave each piece a once-over and dried it. While Bo, as the one with both arms working, would buff and polish.

They had just about finished when the ship's hyperdrive alarm blared. Warning them that they will need to disengage from lightspeed momentarily.

The bacta had done wonders. Din was amazed at how much the pain had dissipated. Cauterising wounds would be excruciating for weeks or months. He almost had most of the mobility in his arm; as expected, his shoulder was still an issue. While they had popped it back into place, Din felt lingering damage that he'd get the Medic to check out. He realised he had been injuring his shoulders often lately and would need scans to see if there was any permanent damage.

He was able to don his armor without much issue and was warned and prepared when the ship was pulled out of hyperspace by Bo. Collecting and stacking Aga's armor with the same reverence as he treats his own.

The landing process was quicker than the last time, as the Awauds had shown them their secret hangar and frequencies to announce their arrival.

Din waited for her by the ramp. The stacked armor in his arms, with the helmet on top facing outwards. She met and stood next to him. Whispering, "You did good, Din," as the ramp lowered, revealing the Mandalorians waiting.

Din picked out the axe almost immediately; he briefly worried he had left his spear behind. Bo must have seen him and whispered again, "Don't worry, I grabbed it," pointing to the rod of Beskar on the floor behind them.

Din made a mental note to thank her extra well later.

Chieftain Beroya's loud voice boomed in the cavern, "Din Djarin, Bo-Katan Kryze," silencing the whispers. Din and Bo stepped off the ramp. Din saw the Chieftain look at the armor on his arms. She stepped forward and pointed at the helmet. Her facial expression was the silent question, 'May I?' to which he pushed the armor forward, ignoring the protest of his shoulder.

She picked up the helmet and examined it; after a few moments, she found what she was looking for. Announcing to all, "This is the armor of Aga Awaud; the signet of our clan is inscribed where my father showed me," turning back to Din, "You have succeeded. Thank you for returning this to me. I see that it was not won without blood," then looking and gesturing to the crowd. "I have spoken to the elders," and then, kneeling, "Clan Awaud will be honoured to join you, Mand'alor." The wave of Mandalorians present,t going from standing to kneeling, baffled Din. He never expected nor wanted it, but before he could refuse, Bo put her hand on his good arm and nodded.

"I thank you for your pledge. We have much to discuss," he says. Bo noted how he almost stumbled over his words but hid it well.

Another from the clan took the rest of the armor, and the two were brought to a private room to discuss things. The move from their ancestral home to the Nite Owl temporary base was an idea thrown around and had its own pros and cons. Mainly to start teamwork and pool resources, but being in one place puts a bigger target on them. Ultimately, it was decided not to move them and rather to mix and match.

The elderly and children of the Awauds needed to be protected. And if a line of communication was set up, both tribes could be properly supplied along the Correlian and Triellus hyperspace lanes with escorts.

Din mentioned Boba taking over Tatooine could help, but the Awauds waved him off. "He is Dar'manda. He worked for Vader and the imperials. Gave us all a bad name." Din was concerned as he thought he had a working friendship with Boba and Fennec. He knew Boba would need help sooner rather than later.

He pushed the issue. "It's okay if you do not want to commit your clan to help him. I accept that, but I am of a different opinion about him than you, and I have given my word."

She looked astonished but nodded. "Yes, Mand'alor."

They were able to establish communication lines and were able to set out on their way. Without the need for stealth anymore, Din and Bo were able to take the shorter route back to base, only taking about a day.

That night, Din had asked Bo how his trial run went as they were preparing for bed. "As I said, you did good, Din. You were polite but firm and were able to get them on your side without bloodshed. The true test is when the two tribes first meet after so long, and if you can manage that, you will do well."

"And what about the other trial?" He said before he turned to see a naked Bo sitting on the edge of the bed. "Ask me after we're done," she answered.

Chapter Text

Din never enjoyed waking up. It was normally tied to some sort of unhealed injury or hunger from not eating to provide more for the covert. But waking up with Bo in his arms became his favorite way to start the day by a landslide.

She felt perfectly fitted in his arms, and the warmth she provided seeped into his very core. Din realized he was falling for her and was scared. What if she didn't want to be with him? But then he reasoned that she wouldn't have given him a chance if she thought he wasn't worth her time. Additionally, her enjoyment of his company provides further evidence that she may also envision a future together with him.

His phone on the nightstand beeped, causing Bo to stir. As he reached for it, she snuggled further into him, making noises that one could only interpret as a lack of wanting to get up.

He kissed her on the top of her head, and she seemed to purr. He answered the comm.

"Mando!" Boba's voice blared. Din almost dropped the com as he frantically tried to decrease the volume. Bo's discontent is evident. Din whispered an apology to her.

In a quieter voice, Din asked. "Boba, morning voice, please."

"Right, right. How far are you from Tatooine?" Boba asked in a normal volume, cutting straight to the point"

Din told Boba to wait one sec as he extracted himself from Bo's arms, her annoyance extremely evident. He whispered to her that he'd put on a pot of coffee and, as naked as the day he was born, went to go check the nav computer.

In truth, they were only a couple of hours out, and he told Boba so. "Great, get here as soon as you can because we could use your help. The pikes have made a move, and we need muscle. Are you up for it?" Boba asked. Din contemplated it.

He heard Bo from down the hall call out that she'll call Koska and Axe to meet them there as well, on the condition that Din can use Boba's bacta tank for his shoulder. "That can be arranged. See you and the princess soon." Din heard Fennec in the distance call Boba's name like a disapproving mother as the call ended.

A few hours later.

Landing in Peli's hangar was always going to be Din's plan; what was not in his plans was explaining who "this Peli woman" was to Bo. Who was confusingly mad for some reason. Din didn't think he had done anything.

He had explained that Peli was a mechanic whom he had stationed his Razor Crest with a few times over the recent years, even letting her look after Grogu.

That last point was what sent Bo over the edge. She wasn't making any sense (to him, at least). Bo was annoyed, and she felt justified.

In Bo's mind, the two of them were together (their label not defined), and she had never, ever spent time alone with his son. Sure, she was a bitch to him when they met, and then, sure, the Jedi came and took him away. She cannot deny that little wamp rat is the cutest little thing since she saw baby Korkie.

Bo knew he had past lovers. Omera and Xi'an, to name two. Although the man himself never confirmed their relationship. Bo hated herself for getting jealous, for it made her realize how much she actually likes Din. With his stupid face with that stupid moustache and those stupidly wonderful brown eyes that only she has seen other than his son. 'No, I'm mad,' she thought before going through the list of things she found stupid (but in reality were the things she liked the most).

Bo was torn when they landed. Half of her wanted to go confront the woman. The other wanted to hide away in the ship. But her inner conflict melted away when she heard Peli talk as Din had walked down the ramp first.

"MANDO! What a sight for sore eyes! I see you have nabbed a new ship. Then why are you making me look for a new crest? A Kom'rk will do what you need nicely with a few modifications. Wait, where's the little guy?" Peli's high-pitched voice hurt Bo's ears, and she was a further distance away than Din. Bo's worries about their relationship were gone faster than a heartbeat.

Bo heard Din start to explain, "Not my ship, it's hers," pointing to Bo. "He's with his kind training." That second sentence was muffled by the overbearing woman and her rapid-fire questions.

"Mando! Where have you been hiding this lovely hunk of stuff? Why didn't you tell me you settled down? When was the wedding? Why wasn't I invited? What's her name? Is she rich? How come she can show her fancy face and you can't? Are you ugly under there? If so, tell me so I can win a bet."

Bo blushed under the woman's compliments and scrutiny. Din explained with an arm raised towards her, "This is Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, my… uuuhhhh…….. partner?" His tone suggested the label was a question.

She moved over to join him and looped her arm around his extended arm, holding it against her. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Peli. No wedding..... yet" she adds in a small voice. "And no he is quite handsome ," she said with a smile.

She had no idea the effect her actions had on Din. But his mind immediately went to wanting to take her right there on the ship ramp.

"Well, when ya tie the knot send me an invite. I've never been off-world, you know. I'm a local gal." She tried to make an aside to Din, but her voice was loud and carried. "She's definitely a keeper. Look at you landing a lady, aye."

"Who's armed to the teeth and is quite good with a blaster?" A voice from above rings out.

Din and Bo recognized the voice of Fennec, but Peli didn't. Peli immediately went to yell at the droids when she saw that the two heavily armed Mandalorians were not alarmed.

"Any chance you two are looking for work? Pay is good," Fennec says. Din was about to accept when Bo elbowed him in the ribs. So instead he said, "Boba called; we have at least two others on the way. It's on the house," he said to Bo's chagrin.

"He sure does appreciate it. Come on, let's get you two squared away in the palace," Fennec says.

Chapter Text

Fennec and Din guided Bo to the throne room. Din was familiar with the layout while the Hutts were in charge. He always hated taking jobs from Jabba. Din remembers how hard he laughed when he found out a warrior in a bikini slew that slaving bastard.

When Boba told Din about his plans to take over, he was equally surprised and delighted. Finally, someone with a sense of honor would be running the underworld of Tatooine. He still didn't understand why people disliked Boba. Bo had explained the man's past, but Din always focused on his friends in the here and now. And Boba was a good man now.

The same logic applied to Bo. Their discussion over the whiskey and the history concerning Death Watch painted a bad picture of her, but at the present, she was a good person. Bogged down by her demons but trying to be better. Anyone who is trying to be good despite their past or how they were taught is always a decent person, in Din's book.

Seeing Boba on his throne for barely a second before the man stood up and came bounding over to the two Mandalorians. "Mando!" Din grasped the other man's arm in a warrior's handshake. "Thanks for coming." Boba looked at Bo. "Lady Kryze. I thank you as well. I hear some of your forces will be joining us." She nodded her head.

"The palace has rooms to accommodate all of you," Fennec says. She pauses for a second. "One room or two?" she asks slyly. She knows the answer, but she obviously wants it spoken aloud. Din wonders if his friends have a bet going, and she is likely going to win.

Bo looks at Din, and he looks at her. He gestures with his head along the lines of "your decision." He'd always follow her lead. While they had shared a room for most of their journey over the last few weeks, he respects the possible need for some privacy, for admittedly, there was little on the Gauntlet, but there is much to the same effect of the need for privacy.

Her right eyebrow shot up. Before falling as fast as it rose, while she faced Fennec. "Depends on how many credits Boba has to win and which option makes him lose," she says sarcastically. Causing Fennec to smile and Boba to hold in a laugh. While he tried to look grumpy and hurt at the insinuation.

Fennec's smile grows as she nods. "One then," she turns to Boba, "pay up," and the man protests, "Hold on, they're not official yet! He still has time to wise up."

Both women looked at him like he said the stupidest thing he has ever said (he did), and he stumbled and mumbled out an apology. Bo sees Din's shoulders bouncing in a silent giggle as he does so.

Fennec elbows Boba in the ribs before turning to a droid behind them, telling it to take them to a room number. "Briefing will be held when the other owls get here; tell them to land at the palace hangar."

Din and Bo nod simultaneously and begin following the droid before Bo stops and spins on her heel. "Can I use your holo table to call someone? It's important," she says, ignoring Din's gestures conveying his confusion.

Bo sees the pouch of credits being passed from Boba to Fennec and sees that it's substantial. Boba coughs and nods to her. Obviously not wanting another hit from Fennec.

She resumed following the droid to their room, going up the stairs to the higher floors of the palace. It opened the door to a large suite. Stepping inside, she saw a lavishly decorated space filled with rich fabrics and intricate artwork. The air was scented with a hint of exotic spices, and a large window offered a breathtaking view of the sprawling desert below.

The bed was large and looked comfortable, lined with dark purples and reds. She heard Din's helmet depressurise and turned. She looked at his eyes, which were looking past her at the bed. His pupils made his eyes look more black than brown. He must have had a flicker of a scandalous scene in his head. She reasoned that it was possibly something along the lines of whether her hair would match some of the red pillows.

He was fascinated with her hair. The galaxy is vast, but redheads are rare. Her sister was blonde, and her son had the red metallic hair of his father. She always wondered why Satine thought they could fool everyone by calling him her nephew. Bo was a preteen when Korkie was born. But Din's fascination was delightful. She caught him playing with her hair when he must have thought she was asleep. Combing it through his fingers like it was silk.

He was always so gentle with her in those moments, but in others, he treated her like the dangerous warrior that she is. He respected her and almost always asked first before doing anything, sometimes to the point of being annoying. She wished he would take the initiative, but the wounded part of her liked the control that he freely gave her.

She knew that would continue in their marriage. He would not control her or make her feel subservient to him. Which was always a worry and concern when she thought of the concept of marriage. She was beginning to feel like he put her on a pedestal sometimes, normally when he was being self-deprecating. He knew her flaws and cared for her anyway.

They had grown very close lately. But she always wondered how he felt towards her or the possibility of their marriage. He never stated it aloud, and when she would ask him, he would say things like "I would be honoured" or his tribe's catchphrase, "This is the way."

His feelings matter as much as hers do. But she also knows Grogu's opinion matters, arguably the most right now. He was Din's son in all but name, as Din is a stickler for the rules by wanting to do it in person. She liked the kid but had only spoken to him over holocall occasionally, but almost always with Din.

If they were to progress in their relationship, she felt like she needed the approval of his son. "Din, can you give me some time, please? I need to make a call in private," she says to him. Din walks over to her, grasps her hand, and slides his other hand to her face. He kisses her. Not deeply, but tenderly. She thinks he is trying to make her not want to go, but he hums his assent when he pulls back and looks at her.

His thumb rubs her cheek tenderly. "I'll go distract the two of them from your call as much as I can," he says. Their fingers on their joined hands thread together, and he dons his helmet once more. They ask the droid to guide her to the communications room and him back to their hosts.

Once at the holotable, she dials the number for R2 that they had been using to communicate with Skywalker and Grogu. He sends back for her to wait a minute while he goes and gets the child. Bo paces back and forth as she waits, her nerves getting to her. It sounded simple in her head: 'Get the kids' permission to marry his father.' No big deal. She tried to plan a big speech for the kid, but with his communication skills lacking, she thought it might not be the best idea. After a few nerve-wracking minutes, the holoprojector displays the blue-hued version of a child she knows is green.

The child waves and babbles and appears to look around, looking for his father. Bo knew she needed to speak before the child's mood dropped. "Hey Grogu, your dad's alright. I just needed to talk to you alone for a minute. Is that alright?" she asked. The child's ears droop before he solemnly nods. Bo explains that she will try and keep it simple, so she asks the child to nod or shake his head to her questions and statements and any other physical gestures she might understand.

She asked him if he remembered the call when his dad was sick. Grogu nodded.

"Well, the situation is that your dad is now the ruler of the Mandalorians." Grogu's ears shot up, and the child had a "whoa" expression. "Right, and currently it's just you and him, and remember how he named you his heir?" Grogu nods.

"Well, as you might guess, politics is complicated. Others may not like that your dad is in charge." Grogu grunted and looked annoyed and ready to fight them. Bo smiled in amusement.

"Well, I want to help your dad." Grogu lightened up. "In fact, I like your dad a lot." Grogu's ears began bouncing, and his hands shot up in a 'yay' gesture. "So to help him, and given that I like him, we thought it would be best if we were…um…together." Grogu's head dipped to the side in confusion.

Bo blushed and forced a cough to collect herself. "Long story short, kiddo, I am from a royal bloodline of Mandalore, and Din does not. So it is the belief that if your dad and I are joined in song together, then his position is more secure." Grogu nodded his understanding.

"Well, uh, the fact that he's your dad, and if we get married, that makes me your…" She stopped and looked at the kid. She had never thought of herself as the kid's mother, deeper than surface level. She knew logically it would happen, but never imagined what it would entail. Honestly, it scared her.

She was frightened, as she never thought she was mother material. Too broken. Too damaged. Her bloodline is tainted. Those thoughts that Vizsla ingrained into her are still wriggling their ugly head again. She wanted to retreat, to never think or speak of this again. The blood in her face started to drain. She wanted to break it off with Din right there and then. He deserved better. He needed better.

But what broke her negative ruminative thought pattern was the kid.

"Mama," Grogu said.

She turned and looked at the boy. The child was bouncing in the frame, landing closer and closer to the camera. Until the projection was just Grogu. She could see his ears basically vibrating and the largest smile she had ever seen on his face. "What?" she asked in disbelief. "Mama," Grogu repeated while pointing directly at her and then pointing at himself.

She hoped this conversation would go well, but not this well.

Tears at the corners of her eyes began to swell. "You are ok with me?" she asked, her voice as wobbly as her knees felt. Grogu nodded enthusiastically with his whole body. Her shoulders began to shake with unverbalized sobs. "Oh, kiddo, I wish I could hug you right now. You don't know how much this means to me." Grogu then hugs the camera.

Those tears are now streaming down her face. They formed as tears of sadness, but now are tears of joy.

Grogu pulls back, cooing at the perceived sadness, and Bo speaks once more, 'I promise to look after him while you are away. I will give you all the hugs and cuddles you want when we see you again. You will always be welcome with us."

Grogu's arms shot up in glee as he began chuckling his happiness. And Bo wanted to do the same. She has done what she came here to do and was prepared to grovel (until her thoughts caught her) and is over the moon that Grogu accepted her as his mama. He had no reason to, and she certainly didn't expect it so soon.

"Alright, Grogu. Thank you so much. I will tell your dad that you have been the best Jedi that has ever been and that you love him as much as he loves you. I'll make sure he calls you again soon, alright?" Grogu waves goodbye and almost says as much in his babbling language. And she ends the call. Collapsing to the floor.

Chapter Text

Din didn't know how long Bo's holocall would take or who to call. He could guess, but that list was longer than he thought. Axe, Koska, Ahsoka, Sabine, and her mother, Ursa (although Bo said they had not spoken in some time), could have been any of the command staff or intelligence contacts. Possibly even the Awauds.

Regardless of who it was, she asked for privacy, and Din would respect it. So he rejoined Boba and Fennec, who were looking at a holomap. He heard them discuss who their allies were and who was with the Pikes. Din was curious why he saw nothing on the map area out to the west. "What about Freetown?" he asks.

Boba and Fennec turned to him. "Where you got my armor from, that marshal?" Boba asked. Din nodded before adding. "He said he wore it to protect the town from outsiders like spice runners. If we manage to force the Pikes off-world, he won't have to deal with them in Freetown anymore."

Fennec and Boba exchange a glance, nodding to themselves and then again at Din. "Reach out to the Marshal; get him here, as we suspect the other clans will betray us soon, and the Pikes will come at us rather than make us go to them."

Din nods and sends a message to the Marshal. He hears Boba scuff his feet in the sand before Fennec speaks up. "So you and Kryze, aye?" Din looks at the two of them. The three are on friendly terms, but they are not friends yet. Sure, they banter with Din like the Nite Owls do, but Din always separated himself from them before Bo's intervention. Din looks at the two who are more like him in ways the Nite Owls are not. They understand the job. The job that had been Din's life until the kid.

Din thinks Boba might be a decent contact. They are both bounty hunters who are now thrust into leadership of a planet (at least Boba was by choice), Din jokes with his annoyance. Din sees himself being friends with these two almost as much as he sees himself with Bo.

Realizing he hasn't said anything, and the other two seasoned bounty hunters look like they are experiencing the awkward tension that arises when Din forgets to speak (a fact Bo pointed out to him). He speaks up. "Uh… Yeah. They kind of decided that it may be better if we were together."

Fennec looks confused. "They?" she asks.

Din proceeds to explain the situation. How he is now Mand'alor by right of the Darksaber and single combat, which they already knew. But filling them in with his time with the Nite Owls and Axe's challenge, and Koska's wingwomaning. Stopping for a minute to let Boba catch his breath after laughing so hard he almost passed out.

"Sorry, just ah," he chuckles, "guess I should have warned you that might have happened." My Buir (parent, in this case, father) told me stories of what our adoptive grandfather Jaster Mereel had to go through when he was Mand'alor by the blade. The constant challenging, scheming, or, in this case, crowning that occurs." Boba explains.

"That blade makes the Mandalorian people go nuts. Buir ended up hating it, especially when the Vizslas took it. But I think he would have liked you for the most part. Your jetti kid would have admittedly irked him, but he would have honored his station as a foundling. But you have a good head on your shoulders. The Creed and Resol'nare have given you a good moral compass."

"Admittedly, I would have just handed the kid over a few years ago, but the time with the Tuskans has changed my perspective. It was wrong of me to serve the Empire, especially Vader. I can only hope to choose better going forward."

Din nods at that sentiment. "But there's ahhh more," he starts. Din explains the Ka'ra visions and the agreement with Clan Awaud. But gets hesitant to circle back to the original topic. "Bo and I have agreed to trial run a relationship before joining our songs," he says with weighted breath.

The other two share another glance and begin laughing. Fennec manages, "That is the stupidest excuse I have ever heard," causing Boba to begin wheezing.

"It's not an excuse!" Din protests. But the other two are having none of it. Then Fennec's com blares. "Fennec Shand, this is Koska Reeves, requesting permission to land at the palace hangar." Fennec looks at Din. "Do they know about that excuse yet?" she asks. Din shakes his head.

She grants their landing privileges and leaves to greet them. An awkward silence falls on the two men. Boba coughs. "Din, look. The reason we find it so funny is because we both could tell you have fallen hard for Kryze. And we have only been around you for a couple of weeks at most. So you're "trailing a relationship," he puts hand air quotes around those last words.

"And you like the woman so as much as I regret losing credits. I have to say, MAN UP and tell the woman you love her," he says as he slaps a hand on Din's shoulder, hard. "I don't know much about her, nor do I like her, but Din, it would likely go a long way if you opened up the communication. I know you prefer to convey what's in here," pointing to Din's iron heart on his chest.

"With actions. But sometimes words and communication go a heck of a long way." He looks Din in the eyes through the visor and lets the silence create space for Din to process his words. Feeling the tension in Din's shoulder rise and fall with acceptance. "Tell you what," Boba adds. "You tell Kryze how you feel, and I will tell Shand—"

"Tell me what?" they hear from down the hall. The two men separate like they have been caught, and in some ways, they had. "Uh, nothing… yet," Boba stutters out. Din looks at Boba, the feared bounty hunter and one favored by Vader, turned into a stuttering mess by one of the deadliest assassins Din had ever known.

Deciding to help him out. "We were talking about the Freetown Marshal," Din lies through his teeth. Fennec gives the two a look of an all-knowing god. Then a mischievous smirk: "Sure you were."

She was followed by Koska, Axe, Vera, and Mero Beroya, along with a couple of other Nite Owls and Clan Awaud members Din didn't really recognize.

Vera steps forward and places her fist over her heart in a traditional greeting: "Mand'alor, we have come at your call." Din sees Boba look at him with another smirk and eyebrows raised out of the corner of his visor. He also sees Axe reach for a pouch and hand it to Koska. 'Is everyone betting on my life?' Din thinks.

"Thank you, Chieftain Beroya." Din bows his head in respect. The group explained the situation and the plan to meet up with everyone in the morning to the new arrivals. Din noted Mero and Boba giving each other the stink eye, which Din thought was odd if they were both clones of the same man. He made a mental note to ask Boba about it later.

Axe and Koska pull Din aside while Boba and Fennec guide the others to their rooms. Axe speaks up when the three are alone. "So, does that mean you accepted it?" he asks with bated breath. Din freezes and desperately wants to deflect. "I don't know if I hurt your eyes and ears with the kov'nyn (headbutt), but that was uhhhhh…."

"It's a yes or no, Din," Koska says, her annoyance evident. He looks at her and meets her irritation with his own: "Has Bo not kept you in the loop?" He asks sarcastically. He doesn't realize the information he has just given away. Koska's eyebrows shot up. "Bo is it?" she asked, her irritation replaced with mirthful curiosity.

Din stutters as he realizes what he did. He looks at the floor while he reboots his fried brain. Din nods and explains the double trial run Bo has him on, and the two laugh as hard as the other two did. "Not you too," he protests, his annoyance back.

Koska's laughter calms down. "Look, if she's letting you call her Bo, I'd say that trial is a success, and the fact you managed to get the Awauds on your side suggests the other trial is a done deal. So back to the question: yes or no, Din?"

Din sighs, and his head hangs low. "Let me say something to Bo first, and if that goes well, then... then it's a yes." The two Nite Owls celebrate silently, throwing their arms in the air, high-fiving, and giving Din wide smiles.

Din sighs. "Look, if she hasn't told you what was going on, then it means she was more pissed at you than I thought, so prepare to grovel and get the short end for a long time. You will get no help from me," hearing them moan and complain. "Atatatatata, you made this mess by forcing us into this situation without talking to us first. I'm pissed at you two as well, but the betrayal for me is surface level. She's your friend. I know you feel bad and guilty, but I sentence you to apologize. Before the briefing tomorrow, and every time she needs it. Got it."

The two Nite Owls do a mocking salute and "yes, sir" full of sarcasm.

Now Din has just got to muster up the courage to tell her how he feels.

That won't be too hard.

Right?

Chapter Text

Din trudges up the stairs to their suite. Mulling over various speeches for her in his head. He knows he's not a speechwriter, as it was more Bo and Koska's area of expertise.

Bo has many areas of expertise; she's a formidable warrior to the point Din knew if she challenged, she'd give him a difficult fight. She's an expert at using her jetpack, certainly better than he is. She has taught him so much over these last few months, let alone the past 3 weeks during his 'Mandalore crash course' she gave him. He hasn't been able to dream of a future where she is not in it and not beside him.

Din is worried he has messed up in some way, that he failed the trial run. Although she has never said he has, she has joked that 'X thing determines whether or not you passed' either when he had messed up and she is trying to get him to figure out what he did and apologize or right before sex. Din couldn't help himself from thinking of that thing she does with her tongue. But he tries to pull himself out of that rabbit hole, as this conversation is important.

He enters their suite and does not notice her immediately. He does see her armor stacked neatly on her side of the bed. Din tends to take the right side of the bed because, back in the gauntlet, it was closest to the door. Plus, he tried sleeping on the left, but her sleeping on his right arm gave him trouble in the mornings.

Unknowingly they had settled into a routine that Din hoped with everything he had would continue back at the Nite Owl base.

Din does not hear the shower running. So he calls out, hand on his blaster just in case. He hears her on the balcony call back. Her tone of voice conveys no threat, so you decide to match her. Removing each piece of his beskar and stacking them by the corner of his side of the bed.

Once down to his flight suit, Din joins Bo on the balcony. She has her arms wrapped around her solemnly. She's gazing out to the vast sands along the horizon. Her posture conveys sadness that makes Din's heart twinge. So he walks over and hugs her from behind. As he envelops her in his arms, he can feel the tension in her shoulders slowly begin to ease.

She sighs and leans into Din. Through the corner of her visor, he sees her begin to smile with her eyes closed. She threads her fingers into Din's and opens her eyes. The two stare at the valley as the twin suns of Tatooine begin to set. His mind is still racing, but he is enjoying this moment with her in case it is their last.

As the air cools, Bo breaks the silence: "Come on, let's go inside before it's too cold," and Din nods his assent. Letting go of her in the embrace but not their joined hand and fingers. Din feels a surge of confidence, so he spins her around on the spot like he saw in the romance holo-movies she made him watch with her. She giggled once she realized what he was doing. Her eyes matched her smile.

Din lets her lead him inside. The privacy of the walls allows Din to feel comfortable enough to remove his helmet. With his free hand, he manages to remove it and throw it on the bed. His eyes followed the helmet's path, causing him to miss Bo surging towards him into a kiss.

Din shuts his eyes, and his now free hand joins the other around the small of her back, holding her to him. She goes to deepen the kiss, and Din obliges when there is a knock at the door.

The two jump apart. Din dives towards his helmet as he hears the door begin to open. "Master Fett missed the two of you at dinner, so I have food for the two of you," a robotic voice says. Din sighs and lets his face fall onto the bed. Bo thanks the droid and takes the tray before the droid can fully enter the room. She ushers the droid away and closes the door.

"Come on, you ridiculous man, let's eat something," she says as she carries the tray to a table. Din rolls over, messing the bed up more, and joins her.

She must have picked up on something as they ate in relative silence. She occasionally sends a comforting smile to Din, and he thinks he reciprocated, but he is still learning facial expressions. Multiple decades under a helmet have led him to not be able to hide his implicit expressions nor be able to properly control his conscious ones.

As the food disappears over time, the air feels increasingly heavy. Din can't stand it, and he thinks neither can she. "Bo, can we talk?" he asks. He sees a flicker of fear in her expression before she collects herself. She nods. He stands and sits on the edge of the bed. Patting a spot next to him. He sees her reluctantly walk over, hesitation evident in her posture.

She joins him on the bed, and the two sit in an awkward silence. She shrinks, pulling herself closer into herself as the seconds go by. Realizing he has done the 'non-talking thing' again, he does a fake cough. Gaining her attention.

"Bo…uhhh… I wanted to talk to you about us," he begins. He sees the flicker of fear and concern on her face once more, for a longer second this time. She only responds with an "oh." Din hums in reply. "I, uh, don't want to be in a trial anymore," he says.

She immediately retreats into herself more; her face does not hide the sadness and disappointment. Din yells at himself, 'THAT WAS THE STUPIDEST THING TO SAY, IDIOT,' internally.

Din reached over, adding, "Wait, wait, wait, it's not like that. Please," he pleads. "Bo, please look at me. It's not like that, I promise." She glances at Din, peering over her knees, which are hiding most of her beautiful face. He sees a glimmer of hope.

Din gently pushes her knees out of her arms and face, down to the edge of the bed. He takes her hands in his and ensures he is in her line of sight. Guiding her face up.

"Bo…. I care about you, and I do want the trial run to end. I, uh, want to be official. Regardless of the saber or any of that shit. I want us to be together."

He is mustering up the courage to say those three words of his feelings.

"Really, you're okay with me?" she asks, her voice meek. Din doesn't like how little she thinks of herself sometimes and knows she hates it when he does the same. He doesn't trust his voice at the moment, so he nods. Forcing himself to maintain eye contact.

"Bo I, uh…" he says but is lost in his emotions and her eyes. It must be evident on his face as she says the words just as he was about to.

"I love you," she says. Din cannot help himself from surging forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. He squeezes her with his arms as he feels her hands on his back. They both sigh in happiness. He has not felt happiness like this since Grogu came into his life.

In his shoulder, she says, "I called Grogu to ask him if he was ok with me." Din pulls her back to look at her. His eyebrows went up, encouraging her to go on. "You know what he called me?" she asked. Din slightly shook his head and tipped it to the side. His usual helmeted gesture of confusion. Bo basically beamed at him, her smile practically reaching her ears. "He called me Mama."

Din felt the happiest he had ever been. His cheeks strained with a smile, and he felt the crinkles by his eyes. Bo continues, "So I think he's happy with me and us," she says as a hand is placed on his chest. She must feel Din's heart beating so hard he's surprised he can hear her speak.

"Din, the trial is over. If I am honest, it has been for some time; it probably only lasted a few days before I started seriously falling for you. You are one of the best men I have ever known. I would be ecstatic to live the rest of my days by your side. As a ruler or a bounty hunter, it doesn't matter to me anymore as long as it's you and me. Well, hopefully, Grogu joins us eventually. That little wamp rat deserves all the hugs and kisses I can provide."

Din interjects with "Hey, don't call our son a wamp rat." He pauses when he hears her gasp. Her hand was off his chest and over her mouth. "What?" he asks. He sees tears pooling as her hand shifts from her face to his. "You said 'our son.'"

He leans into her hand. "Of course," he says as he looks at her, "we share all," he says, referring to one of the stanzas of the riduurok vows of marriage. Bo leans over and kisses him. Moved by the notion he was getting at.

The kiss was light but filled with unspoken promises and shared dreams. As they pulled away, the gravity of their situation and feelings was apparent. Their foreheads were joined. Eyes locked to each other. "I love you, Bo," he says. "I love you too, Din," she reciprocates.

In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own world. The warmth of their connection enveloped them, a silent understanding that they were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Chapter Text

Koska strolls up the stairs apprehensively yet excitedly at the same time.

She knows she has betrayed the friend that she has been closest to since the purge.

Koska lost her family that day but gained a new one with Bo and the Nite Owls. Koska was personally rescued by Bo that day. Whenever Koska is at her lowest points, she remembers how safe she felt with Bo.

When she recovered, she pushed herself to fit in, to repay Bo and the Nite Owls for their sacrifice and for giving her the time of day. It seemed her effort to go above and beyond was noticed, and Bo took Koska under her wing.

Teaching her drills with her jetpack, her vibroknife, and how to be a warrior. All the while, Koska taught Bo lessons that Koska learned from her mother, mainly how to be a decent person.

Koska’s family was pulled in two directions before the purge. Her father was a warrior of Clan Reeves, while her mother was a New Mandalorian pacifist. Her mother was a nurse who was also trained in mind-healing methods. The two women teaching each other bonded them in a way not many could replicate. They were like sisters, but never admitted it as such due to Bo’s trauma surrounding Satine’s death.

This bond is what makes her betrayal over the Darksaber and Mandalorian shiza so bad. Koska understands Bo’s reaction (if not expecting it to be worse), but Koska wants her best friend back.

She thinks extending the olive branch first may help.

Sure, Bo is likely to just scream in her face, and Koska hopes she can dodge if the door is slammed in her face or a punch is thrown. Koska believes that Bo deserves happiness and knows if Bo were ruler once more, the chance for said happiness would be gone forever.

When Din stumbled into the Mamacore pit and therefore their lives, Koska knew he piqued Bo’s interest. Not only because he was a living embodiment of Bo’s deathwatch-related past failures, but also because the religious fanatics were rare.

While their initial meeting was hostile, at least no weapons were drawn on their fellow Mandalorian. When he gave Bo a chance at Gideon, Koska was afraid that Bo’s rage brought out her past self to the forefront. Koska knew how much of a fool Bo felt when Din walked onto the bridge with the darksaber. It presented a new issue, but when his lack of hostility was maintained, the issue was more of an opportunity.

Koska observed the man; he was a formidable warrior, but just an awkward man. Bo’s interest stayed consistent, and Koska had to squash the jealousy that came up when Bo took him under her wing.

It warmed Koska’s heart that Bo seemed to be happier with him around. While he lacks common sense in many aspects, it was refreshing. Bo needs people she can trust wholeheartedly who will never stab her in the back like she and Axe have.

Din is ideal for Bo, and it seems she is ideal for him. Axe focused on the political aspects of Din’s possible rule, while Koska focused on the relational and emotional. While her mother would not have approved of how she went about it, Koska believes her intentions would have made her proud.

At the door, Koska collects herself with a deep breath. Plasters a semi-genuine smile on her face and knocks at the door. No response. Knock again. No response, maybe a possible groan. Normally, an indicator that Bo is awake and to come in.

Koska opens the door. “Bo-Katan, it’s me. Can we grab breakf—“ Her words are cut off when she hears sheets being thrown up and more groaning, along with a yelp from Bo. Bo's face is redder than a scarlet sunset, and her hands are holding the sheet over the man in her bed.

Koska panics internally that her plans to wingwoman her friend and mentor to happiness have fallen apart for some random scoundrel from Tatooine until she sees the helmet on the nightstand of the male’s side of the bed.

Din's helmet.

“Oh,” Koska says as her shock turns to amusement. A mirthful smirk arises on Koska. “Girl, you are telling me all about it later,” she says. Bo stammers. “I…I’m still mad at you.” Koksa turns, “I know, but I’m still going to be your maid of honor. Glad to see you happy, Boss,” she says over her shoulder as she promptly leaves Bo’s room.

Bo is annoyed and realizes she never fixed the habitual routine she and Koska formed. That will need to be addressed now that Din and she are together officially. The ending of that thought filled Bo with warmth. Koska was right; Bo is happy.

She glances at Din, who is barely holding back his laughter. Bo realizes her shoulders are shaking just as her own laughter overtakes her. Letting Din laugh with her as he peeks from under the covers. Those brown eyes looked like pools of coffee. Bo cannot help herself from shifting over to kiss him. Before the kiss can get too deep, Din quips, “I am not making Axe best man! Kriff that guy,” breaking the two back into laughter.

—————————————- A couple of hours later ———————————

Din received a call hours before the battle. He had not heard from the marshal of Freetown, but he did not sound like a panicked younger man.

“Mando, it’s the deputy,” like the title of deputy would explain anything. “Marshal Vanth has been shot.” That explained the panic.

Luckily, Din was with Boba and the rest of the forces planning for the battle. Din quickly asked and got approval for the use of Boba’s bacta tank.

“Deputy, I will be there within the hour.” Bo was already running to the gauntlet in the palace hangar. Despite the fact that it is Axe’s ship, it seems Bo is free to pilot any of the Nite Owl fleet.

Knowing it is probably unsafe to land for any extended period of time due to Hryat dragons, Din commed the deputy to have Cobb on a stretcher in the center of town ready to go.

Din looked at Bo from the copilot seat and gestured for her to do a flyover of the town just in case the deputy wasn’t who he said he was. During the flyover, he saw the familiar Weequay bartender holding one side of the stretcher. The man Din vaguely remembered was named Taanti.

Taanti looked like he was not being held against his will, but, understandably, in some distress. Din nodded for Bo to hover the ship low to the ground.

Din, the deputy, and Taanti lifted Cobb into the ship while Bo took off. Din caught a glimpse of another tremor in the sand. He was right about the kryat, but it was not as pronounced as before.

Din broke himself out of his wonder and looked at Cobb’s injury. A high-powered blaster shot inches away from the man's heart and towards his shoulder. Cobb looked like he turned with the hit in the attempt to minimise the damage, smart man.

Cobb would likely be out of action for the Pike attack, but the bacta tank would save the man's life.

The deputy told the tale of the shootout duel. A blue Duros that the bartender named Cad Bane.

Bane was a famous bounty hunter across all the rims. Rivalling Boba’s old reputation. Din was deeply concerned that the Pikes must have hired him. He is a formidable opponent Din has not faced, and he doubts that he would be able to best the man.

Boba needed to know that his old pal was in town. As the two had a famous duel back in the Clone Wars. Boba told Din that Bane was the cause of the massive dent in Boba’s helmet.

So he was not surprised when the two men stood out, baiting each other with insults during the final battle. Din knew he shouldn’t intervene and had to actively stop Fennec from sniping Bane’s ugly blue face. Din hoped he was strong enough to beat Bane if Boba lost.

He had confidence in his friend, for even the older man had shown Din a trick or two while he was staying at the palace, much to Bo’s chagrin. Luckily, Boba won.

The battle itself was intense. They expected the hordes of Pikes but not ginormous Scorpenek annihilator droids. The shielded droids firing cannon shots are difficult for even the most hardened warriors. The Mandalorians admittedly had some trouble.

Bobba suggested he get his new Rancour to defeat them, but luckily, Axe had a better idea and was faster. Using his jetpack, during the battle, he jetted off towards the palace hangar. The Gauntlet's weapons wouldn't pierce nor break the shields, but the threat would either deplete the shield's energy reserves or distract the droids, allowing the ground troops to sneak under the shields and take out the legs, if not place explosives like grav charges. And get out before they go off.

Thankfully, Axe’s plans had worked. Boba was only a tad miffed; Din thought Boba had wanted to show off his new pet but was glad he didn’t. It would have been a disaster, as they had no way to calm the beast down.

When all the pikes were dead or running, the droids in sparking heaps of metal, the townsfolk left their hiding spots and congratulated the new Daimyo of Tatooine. Koska, Bo, and Axe wanted to use the opportunity to announce Din as Mand’alor. Doing so in public prevented the chance that Din would shirk the responsibility.

"People of Mos Espa," Boba called out. "The ruler of Mandalor," indicating to Din with an extended hand, "Mand'alor Din Djarin has helped the people of Mos Espa and all of Tatooine free ourselves of the spice-peddling filth. For no reward other than honour." Boba began to strut. "He has allied himself with the people of Freetown, formerly Mos Pelgo, before and has come to our aid once more. As Daymio of Tatooine, I thank you for calling your forces to our cause. OYA!!" he cried out.

Sensing the moment, Din held the Darksaber up high for all to see. Bo thought he looked like the ancient warriors of old made manifest in the present.

Boba must be caught up in the moment as he pledges his support for Din as Mand'alor and his help in reclaiming Mandalore. Bo was pleasantly surprised at both pledges from the clone.

Most of her life, she hated the clone's existence. They were a mockery of Mandalorian culture and history. Proving that Jango, as the donor, had no honor and lost his soul along with Jaster's death.

She never understood why Ahsoka stood by the clones even when they tried to kill her during Order 66. Bo had seen the crash site of the Tribunal and the mass graves she knew her friend had dug.

Her ire for Bobba was especially placed. His work for Vader made Bo believe his blood was just tainted. It drove her batty whenever Din put his trust in the clone and defended the man. But she could see the glimmer of honor in the man’s pledges.

She had believed Boba would do nothing to help their fight to regain their home, let alone get some of the citizens on board as well. Bo thinks those people just want to get off the sandy planet or freedom from their chains.

Din made the mental note to make sure he, Boba, and Cobb all sat down for a drink when the Marshal recovered. Not just for winning the battle of Tatooine but for celebrating the freedom of the planet from scum like the Pikes and their poison (spice). Din was proud when Fennec mentioned Boba also wanted to rid the planet of the slave trade. Depriving the Hutts and the Pikes of another revenue stream.

Simultaneously with the battle of Mos Espa, a ship appears over Vor Deo, hailing the Nite Owl base. A night owl speaks, "Unidentified craft. Hold position for scan. For under what sky do traitors see only ground?" He asks.

Obviously some Mandalorian code. It is a bad attempt at threading the ancient proverb into coded language. A woman in a gold helmet towers over the comm. “The beskar sky,” she answers.

“Su cuy'gar (hello), I am Tor Keldar. Who are you?” The woman in a gold helmet bristles over the comm. The light of the nearby sun revealed the horns of gold. “Su cuy'gar, Tor Keldar. We are the Mand’alor clan. I have heard he has been looking for us. We hear his call for this is the way.”

Chapter Text

There was one word going through Din's mind. Over and over.

Shit.

Shit

Shit

Shit

Shit

Shit

Shit

Shit.

They must have received word that the word about the darksaber being in the possession of a Mandalorian had gotten out. Apparently, whispers about him being the Mandalorian in question had also spread.

The news of the survivors of his covert being at the Vor Deo base was a surprise, to say the least. He was looking for her and thought he would have more time to collect his thoughts. The change in his relationship status with Bo-Katan had thrown another spanner in the works.

Din’s insecurities are back in full swing as his immediate reaction is to revert back to the covert ways. He wore his helmet all the time to the point of almost having a panic attack when he removed it.

Din is deeply worried that the Armorer will condemn Din for breaking the creed. While the Ka’ra had suggested he had not, “the words of the creed are still forged in your heart.”

The fact of the matter was he broke it and has broken it every day since he showed Bo-Katan his face.

While he initially thought the decision was impulsive, a fuck it decision. In hindsight, it was better this way. He was right to think he could not hide part of himself away from her. For it is not fair.

He thought his face was the only thing the helmet hid. He was wrong. The helmet was the last line of protection from vulnerability, in the literal and figurative sense. In truth, the helmet hid his expressions from her. His smile, the twinkle in his eyes, and the adorable dimple in his cheek were some of her notable favorites. She had confessed to him (totally not through the interrogation method of tickling) that she knew he’d be really handsome under that helmet, but did not care if he wasn’t. “You could look like a Wookie under that bucket, and I would not care.”

She saw his soul and the strength of his character before seeing his face. She also said his eyes had become one of her favorite things to look at in the galaxy, “only second to your ass,” she joked in the moment.

Irrespective of the love he felt for her, his taught rational made the whole thing feel wrong. He was sinning, over and over.

He was Dar’manda.

He did not deserve his armor, nor his life. Bo noticed that the shift in his thinking worsened over the first few days after learning the news. She had expected the officiality of their relationship to be blissful happiness, not for Din to be closed and reserved. When she woke up one morning to him still wearing his bucket, she grew worried.

And when the Darksaber fought against him again during training, she immediately knew her suspicions were correct. She decided to call a meeting of the ‘Din Djarin is a fucking idiot club' and basically forced him out the door with the freshly recovered Marshal Vanth.

The club consisted of all the Mandalorians at Boba’s palace, plus Fennec, whom Bo considered a borderline Mando because the assassin oozed mandokarla (guts and spirit). And Peli, as Bo realized, was a friend to Din, and the club needed an outside perspective on the Mando bullshit.

The club assembled around Boba’s dinner table, with a respectable amount of food and almost triple the amount of booze. Bo stood up. “I call this meeting to order,” to the mirthful snickers of those present. Bo gives them a rundown of the situation: Din is the ruler of Mandalore, has received multiple Ka’ra visions, and has a long and short upbringing, with her understanding of his creed threaded with snippets that he shared with her.

“The Creed is of utmost importance to Din and his tribe, on par with the importance of the foundlings,” to which Peli butted in again with a comment or question, this time being, “You mean the little guy, right?” Bo nodded in response. Bo explained that the matriarch of his tribe has arrived at the Nite Owl base. Bo gave a shortened rundown of the sacrifice his tribe made for Din and Grogu (Peli still doesn’t like the name).

They all realise the severity of the situation.

Din has lived his life in service to the Creed and all of its tenets. He believed it wholesale and down to his very bones. Per the creed, his family had sacrificed themselves for Din and Grogu. They all could imagine the hurt and sacrilege that the survivors will feel when they find out he broke their most sacred oath. For two beings he had not sworn to.

He had not formally adopted Grogu.

He had not formally vowed to Bo.

They all understood why Din was acting weird the last couple of days. He was scared. Scared of being rejected by his family for choosing to allow his loved ones to see him in his entirety.

Boba had initially thought Din should suck it up and be a man, but had rescinded his position. “Kark it, I’d take him in house Mereel. That he stuck his neck out for me and the people of Tatooine. Hell, he pulled you three in, and without you, we may have lost. If they reject him, I will take him in.”"

Bo interjected. “Get in line, mate; he’s mine. He's marrying me, not you.” Koska and Peli both “oooOOooOoooOoHHhhHh” in a mockingly mirthful tone.

Their relationship is brand new, and Koska is taking her role of main shipper very seriously. Peli is fully on board the Dinbo train.

Boba hit back. “Think about it, House Mereel hasn’t had a natborn member since my father died. I have a new title, and while I hate the snide comments about my existence, on some level, they are right.” The man defeatedly expressed. 

“Mandalorian high society will never accept me fully. But they will accept Din. House Mereel deserves to live on. Even if it is joined with House Kryze." Bo’s eyebrows basically launched off her face into her hairline.

“I am not having you as a brother-in-law,” she exclaimed. Fennec downed a shot and quipped, “Even if it meant you could have me as a sister-in-law.” Bo looked at her, then back at Boba, who looked flushed with embarrassment.

She wordlessly pointed to the two back and forth, saying, ‘You and him? Really?’ Boba grumbled something out. “What was that, honey?” Fennec asked. “I said. I always loved a woman who could kill me ten different ways to sundown,” causing the group to begin laughing at the man who had just been made Daimyo of Tatooine. A crime lord and dangerous bounty hunter known throughout the Outer Rim.

When she managed to gain control of her amusement. “Alright, back on topic. Din. He’s being stupid. He is Mand’alor. The Ka’ra has found him worthy. If they are as devout as I think they are, they will accept that. The Awaud certainly did.”

Koska then briefly explained a little of the adjustment situation, mainly the couple of spats between the Nite Owls and Awaud at the Vor Deo base. Ultimately leading to at most a few broken bones after a challenge. Per Din’s suggestion, forcing the two groups to mix mission attendee selection had varied success.

Axe said, “Some have formed friendships, but it’s still new for everyone, and we all are and will adjust.” Bo took point again: “So we agree that it’s not an issue. If so, we need to make sure he doesn’t revert back into how he was after Gideon.” Peli asked who that was, and the group explained the situation surrounding the assault and the rescue of Grogu.

Peli got angry at the “asshole. Who the heck steals another man’s kid other than slavers?” Peli agrees with Bo that they should have put a blaster round right between Gideon's eyes. The group makes plans to "encourage" A.K.A force Din to be social, not remove the helmet.

He is their friend (to varying levels; mainly Axe is still in the bad books for the shit he pulled). He is stressed and absolutely not “a little bitch,” the males of the group joked (well, mainly Axe, as Boba got the nonverbal threat from his Riddur after the first joke).

In hindsight, spending time with a friendly face in the moment was a good idea on Bo’s part. Now they had to plan how to encourage him during the flight over. Bo did not appreciate all the sexual jokes or references she got from Koska about their trip when it was decided she would travel with Din alone. But her friend was begrudgingly squirming her way back into Bo’s heart.

Din almost got away with trying to sleep alone in the crew's quarters. If Bo had not caught him trying to move his stuff in there and not in their now shared captain's quarters. A simple “OI!” and a point to their room translated the message across to him.

Bo tried not to be offended at the scrape of his feet as he reluctantly complied, but it was difficult not to be hurt. She loved the man and knew he loved her. He should not be reluctant to spend time with her.

But she knew he was scared. The group had decided that, as his lover (she was still getting used to the title), she had to go all “New Mandalorian” on him. Kindness was not her forte, but with Din, her heartstrings were tugged, so it was somewhat easy.

They had no passionate nights, but she would hold him. Not only because he tried to escape to the crew quarters, but he needed comfort. She would feel and hear him cry, causing her to hold him tighter and soothe him by passing her hand up and down his arm.

Bo assured him multiple times that she was not going anywhere, regardless of what happened. She was his, and he was hers in all but vow. “I’m Grogu’s proclaimed mama, you’re his dad. This family is not going anywhere. I love you, Din Djarin." Only making him cry harder, but he melted into her embrace. Bo could not stop the tear streak down her own face.

This man in her arms was a formidable warrior, a renowned bounty hunter; one look from the man could make lesser men piss themselves. He was Mand’alor, the man she loved. But he was still just a man.

With his own fears and worries. She realized and hated herself for putting his fears out in the open to his friends and two of his council members. But she knew none of them thought he was lesser because of his fears. Still, she wished she could kiss the tears away, but his helmet was firmly on his head. She hasn’t seen him without it for days. She offered to come up and rehearse speeches for him towards the Armorer, but he refused.

He was honor-bound to speak the truth. He would not dishonor her “further” by stretching the truth or delaying his admission of his “transgression.” His choice of words made her more concerned as they became increasingly negative and weighted. Like the Armorer was speaking through Din.

Bo realized he was likely imagining their meeting over and over again in a spiral. Bo tried to get him to talk or tried to disrupt his ruminations with mentions of Grogu. Even calling the child. The call seemed to perk Din up, but once it was over, it was apparent he was putting on a façade for his son.

Bo grew more and more worried.

Culminating in the landing at the base. Bo caught a glimpse of the golden-helmeted woman standing next to a large man in blue-painted Mandalorian armor as Bo was landing the Gauntlet. Bo barely heard Din say “Paz” under his breath.

She recognized the name. Paz was Pre’s younger cousin. If a Vizsla is with the Children of the Watch, the situation just became 100 times worse in Bo’s mind.

Before she activated the gauntlet ramp, she caught Din by the arm. He did not turn to her until she squeezed his bicep. “Din. You are not alone," he surprised her by leaning over to her and giving her a kelebe, whispering. “I know.”

Chapter Text

​Bo saw the golden horns plainly for the first time. Immediately reminded of Maul.

The murderer of Satine, whom she loved as her sister.

The slayer of Pre, whom she hated as her oppressor.

Maul, who unleashed the first scars upon the people of Mandalore by partnering with Death Watch (a decision she opposed) and citing a civil war by claiming the title of Mand’alor despite being an aruetii (outsider).

He coveted the title and the planet as a piece for his game for the galaxy. Which he lost. Gorans (Armorers) typically do not have horns on their helmets.

Maul-dalorians did, plus the occasional Zabrak foundling.

But the big man next to the Goran. ‘That must be Paz,’ she thinks. She cannot stop herself from double-taking the clan signet on his shoulder.

A flowered branch.

Clan Vizsla’s signet. Confirming his identity is another clue towards the covert Death Watch ties.

“Din Djarin,” the Goran says with a commanding voice. Din’s head falls, making a clinking sound when the rim of his helmet chin meets his chest plate. His action could be interpreted as reverence, but Bo knows it is in defeat. “Lady Armorer,” he says.

“You have completed your quest,” she says as a statement rather than a question. Din states the affirmative. “Yes, Grogu has been returned to his kind. They respect his rights as a Mandalorian foundling. He is doing well.”

The Armorer tilts her helmet in surprise. “Curious, the Jetti and Mandalorians have been enemies for thousands of years, for a Jetti to respect,” she pauses, “Grogu’s rights and claims as a Mandalorian. It is unusual. However, they must be wise to acknowledge that their practices must adapt after their near extinction. Who is this Jetti you found?” she asked.

Din looked up. “Master Luke Skywalker.” Both Paz and the Armorer seemed to react in shock. Paz finally spoke, “Empire killer,” a nickname that arose after Imperials who escaped the Death Star before it exploded reported a Jedi walking into a room with Darth Vader and the Emperor and only the Jedi walking out with Vader in his arms.

Din continued, “And thanks to Lady Kryze, we also found Lady Ahsoka Tano.” The Armorer slowly turned her head towards Bo-Katan but gave no verbal reaction to her. Turning back to Din, “The Deliverer from the False Prophet,” the title shocked Bo.

Only a certain few called Maul a prophet; more considered his “force visions” to be outlandish. His ramblings of his old master reshaping the galaxy in his image seemed far-fetched…until the empire.

Changing the topic, the Armorer states, “I have been apprised of the situation surrounding the challenge. You have done well, Din Djarin; saving a foundling is the highest honor of the Creed. It is a worthy cause to obtain the Darksaber in rightful combat.” Her final words refer to how Sabine Wren handed the Darksaber to Bo without a duel.

It was that action that many Mandalorians explain the downfall of their civilization and the night of a thousand tears. Bo hangs her head in shame.

“Tell me, Din Djarin, Clan Awaud claims you have experienced visions from the Ka’ra. Given to you by the blade you possess,” the unspoken demand of ‘Is this true?’ hangs in the air for a moment. “Yes, the Ka’ra has spoken to me twice. I do not know why,” he says, his self-deprecation apparent.

She takes a step towards him. “Many throughout our long history have claimed that they are the chosen one or some sort of destined ruler, like Maul did.” She explains, pausing for what Bo would later comment was for dramatic effect.

“But this is not the truth.” She looks at Paz. “Your ancestor Tar Vizsla, creator of the Darksaber, was indeed Ka’ra touched, more than most of us. But through his teachings with the Jetti, he learned how to commune with the Ka’ra.”

Looking back at Din. “The Ka’ra is the council of the ancestors, of fallen kings. They do not choose beings in the galaxy; they find wielders of the darksaber worthy or not through their actions, through their choices, and through the merits of their character. You, Din Djarin, have been found worthy."

"Those found worthy by the Ka’ra can never be Dar’manda, for they are true examples of what all Mandalorians should aspire to be. They exemplify all of the tenets of the Resolnare and the creed.” She takes another step towards Din and puts her hand on his shoulder.

“Allowing your Allit to see your face is not something I publicly condone, but I understand. As do many of the others. I will not lie; some are not happy about your decision, but they will respect it,” subtly indicating at Paz.

“I must request that you must bathe in the living waters when we reclaim our ancestral home,” and she looks at Bo. “And hopefully swear yourself to your riddur in the ancient ways.” Bo blushes underneath her helmet.

Din’s strength leaves him, and he barely stays standing. He is overwhelmed by his emotions. His fears never came to pass.

Chapter Text

Bo was pleasantly surprised at the reaction from Din's tribe and their matriarch. She did not realize Din's fears had become her fears. While she is concerned by the new tribe joining them at the Vor Deo base, now filling up all available beds and changing the logistical demand for basic necessities. But with the credit reserves from the art and valuable horde from this base, they had enough to sustain the entire Mandalorian collective for a while.

Interestingly, Din took charge with the paperwork, with Bo's help. He had informally moved into her quarters on the Light Cruiser, changing the vibe of the space from Gideon's old room to their room, if not home. The memory of the night on the couch was overshadowed with what they now could do in the light of their budding relationship.

Sometimes Din's decisions confused her; he would decide against what was normally decided in his position. Not tradition per se, but more common practice. One example that stood out to Bo was the liberated Beskar. Now that the Armorer was here, they had someone who could proficiently work the metal. In her past attempts at ruling, Bo handed out new beskar to her commanders or troops that had completed a great deed or earned an accolade or promotion in battle. She believed that would incentivise her command not to betray her and keep them loyal.

Din did the opposite. He ensured the Beskar was reserved for the foundlings or spread a small amount into the lowest rungs of new recruits. He did ensure it was evenly distributed towards all clans. His own amount by right he reserved for "a certain foundling," referring to Grogu. The Armorer seemed to approve, "As is his right, this is the way."

Bo was worried when she found out (totally not from eavesdropping) that a Vizsla from Din's tribe was receiving some Beskar in the form of a helmet. And they planned to do a public ceremony for Ragnar to swear the creed. Her concerns were twofold. One being that it makes a public connection between Din and Pre and Deathwatch as a whole. Two, being pissing off Paz.

Paz seemed to comply with orders. He seemed thankful that his son was receiving pure Beskar but was angry with "apostates bearing witness to a sacred occasion," emphasizing the word "apostates" while looking at Din. Not in an 'I'm furious with you' way but more of a 'slightly resentful' way.

Din explained that one of those who died that night on Nevarro was Paz's riddur and Ragnar's mother.

Din and Paz decided to spar it out. Only slightly prompted by the Armorer. Bo was not surprised that the training hall to be full of Mandalorians once more, like when Din and Axe fought. This time without the stakes or nerves.

Din and Paz stood facing each other, forearms bare, as they were as unarmed as possible. This was a casual spar to allow emotions to flow and be expressed (in a testosterone-fueled way). Neither wants anything. While Paz has a right to the title, he has not challenged for it.

In a flash, the two are clashing in the center. Each swinging in their own way. Paz's punches hit with significant power and strength, the kind that will leave bruises for days. Din punches with precision, going for weak points.

Din is mostly dodging or readjusting Paz's blows. Letting the bigger man tire himself out. But that only pisses him off more.

As Din rolls away from a nasty hook that would have broken a rib or two, Paz yells out, "The HELL, DJARIN!" confusing everyone because Paz just hit Din, not the other way around.

Din, now on his feet, cocks his helmet to the side in an unspoken question. Paz points at Din. "I know you, Din Djarin. We grew up together. I know how you fight. This is a mockery of us "going in for another blow.

Din grasps Paz's arm and rotates, using the velocity of the bigger man to flip him over onto his back. A feat of strength and skill, Din has used against bounties that were larger than himself.

Din places a hand on Paz's prone chest and leans down to whisper at Paz, "I understand your anger, Paz. But tradition must serve our people, not bind us in fear. Ragnar deserves his public creed ceremony. No child should be hidden away."

Paz does not struggle but pauses in realization. Din continues, "Mandalore must rise in the open once more."

Paz yields, and Din helps his rival up, and the two share a warrior's handshake.

Din admits to Bo as she is applying Bacta to his wounds that he purposefully pissed Paz off during the fight so the man's emotional walls would not have the strength to block out reason. Din tells her that Paz is a reasonable man for the most part. Din thinks Paz believed Din was trying to mock him by putting his son in the spotlight, but that could not be further from the truth.

The reasoning behind many of Din's decisions clicked for Bo.

The foundlings, or the children, are the future of Mandalore and the Mandalorian people. They should be the priority above all else. Din is encouraging all Mandalorians to fight for the children that will grow up on a liberated Mandalore rather than fight for selfish reasons that will fall apart when the planet is freed from Imperial control.

Din is also showing everyone who he is and what he fights for.

Bo's mind is full of images of the little green men. Maybe once the chainmail vest is completed, she and Din could take a trip to see Grogu in person and give it to him. Hopefully, recruiting a Jedi or two (if Ahsoka is there) would help them liberate the planet.

When the logistics situation is stable, the command staff assembles. The standard Nite Owl commanders are joined by Mero and Vera Beroya and Paz and the Armorer. As the group begins to plan for the assault.

The strategic map flickered on the holotable’s surface, rendering Mandalore and the star destroyers blockading the planet.

Din tapped the table, dispersing the luminescent projection. “We’ll start with what we know,” he said. His voice carried the authority of Mand’alor, tempered by the camaraderie he’d earned, looking at his command staff to begin sharing.

Axe begins, “Imperial Remnant forces hold key positions on Concordia, Sundari, and Old Kelebe. They’ve established orbital support in the form of a small blockade: three Star Destroyers patrolling the space around Mandalore and two light cruisers above Concordia. Their exact garrison strength on the ground is unclear, but from Senator Falke’s intel, they’re either trying or have built bases in surrounding sectors."

A low murmur went through the room. Vera's axe tapped against the dais’s edge. “Strange they haven’t pulled more resources here after Gideon’s capture,” she grumbled. “They’ve dispatched legions across the Outer Rim but left Mandalor overmanned.”

Bo-Katan’s eyes hardened. “They think we’re broken. They believe our clans are scattered, our warriors focused in dozens of hidden enclaves. They don’t see us united yet.” She turned to the Armorer. “What have you learned from the underground networks?”

The Armorer ponders her for a moment before speaking. "When we evacuated Concordia after the night of a thousand tears, those who remained have kept in contact. They report Imperial patrols run convoys between the two planets. They’ve watched the supply lines for years. If we can cut those routes, the remnant can’t reinforce their bases or be forced to split their forces," Koska pipes in, "or draw one of the star destroyers away from Mandalore."

Mero adds, "Our joined fleet can maybe deal with a destroyer and a light cruiser, but we don't have the firepower nor the shields to deal with both of their big ships. For we will need the gauntlets to deliver troops to the surface."

Paz pipes in. "With unknown numbers on the surface and the chance to call reinforcements from nearby sectors, we only have a small window of opportunity to cut them out."

Vera contributes, "We have a few Nite Owl gunships, plus various ships from Clan Awaud. Armed with modified disruptor cannons, they can engage the cruisers or the destroyers long enough for the gauntlets to slip by. My team can adapt thermal charges to breach the blockade’s forward shields—but we’ll need precise timing.”

Axe interrupts, "We still need ground troop number count. We need to know if they have ground assets like AT-ATs, for that will force our troop transports to stay on-site longer to aid our ground forces."

Din interjects. "It sounds like we are going in more informed circles. For at times, it sounds like there was an assault on Concordia to split their forces, but it also splits our own. But we keep coming back to the lack of intel about ground forces. Regardless, it sounds like a space battle first. But we have three key targets. Sundari, Kelebe, and Concordia are each likely where their forces will be concentrated, and taking those locations would secure the planets. Is that in agreement?" he asks.

They all glance at their tribe compatriots and then look to Din and nod. "Any ideas on how to find out their numbers?" he puts to the floor once more.

Silence falls.

Each group comes up with a suggestion, but is quickly disproved by another, whether it be a spy or a probing attack that sacrifices their significantly older comrades, until the idea of smuggling supplies and aid to the survivors on Concordia comes up.

"If they can fight, they can help us liberate Concordia, and therefore we will need to divert less of our forces to help them on the day. Plus, if they can find out the number, it's an added bonus." Axe states.

Din shakes his head. "They can help us on the day, but I remember there being children. We cannot risk the foundlings by pushing them towards finding out intel for us. That is asking too much of them."

Armorer contributes, "Perhaps the Jetti," causing all to look at her.

She pauses, then explains, "The Jetti have the power to sense life across significant space, and if the Empire Killer is as powerful as the songs claim, he could give us a rough approximation of numbers. In addition, if he is honoring Grogu's right as a Mandalorian, then the foundling has the right to fight for his home and may aid you in your battles," shocking the group.

The Armorer reaches into one of her pouches and removes a chain vest, holding it by the shoulders towards Din.

Din's internal conflict was thus. One side of him wanted to keep Grogu as far away from the fighting as possible to protect him, while the other side agreed with the Armorer. He deserved to fight, and Din missed him dearly. Din looked at Bo, who looked like she was experiencing a similar internal conflict, but nodded at him. Din reached over and accepted the armor.

"I can call him now if there is nothing else," Din asks. The group begins to disperse, and as Din was about to change the table to call Master Skywalker, an incoming call came in. Surprised, Bo looked at the communications officer, who checked their monitor and nodded to Din, who accepted the call.

Captain Teva's blue image appeared. "Ah, Mando, thanks for answering so quickly." The portly man looked surprised. But he coughed to collect himself and put on his most formal facial expression. "I am sorry to say I have bad news and thought you deserved to know." He paused.

"Gideon has escaped."

Chapter Text

"WHAT?" Bo practically screamed.

All the Mandalorians who were just leaving turned on their heels and began going frantic, all speaking over one another asking Teva questions or hurling accusations at him or, through him, the New Republic.

The general consensus was that they are pissed, and understandably so.

How dare the New Republic let that monster escape? It was an outrage. Many thought they should have killed him whenever they had the chance, on the light cruiser, before or after interrogation, or immediately after sentencing.

Din banged his vambraces together. "QUIET!" he demanded.

Once the Mandalorians had complied, he turned to the holoprojected New Republic Ranger, "Captain Teva, explain everything," turning back to the Mandalorians, "NO interruptions," he pointed at them.

Teva coughed to collect himself. "Thank you, Mando. Right, well, after we finished interrogating Gideon, I am giving myself plausible deniability by believing you all have no knowledge of what or how truly little he gave us. He was sentenced by the high courts. There was a case to be made for the death penalty, but…." He paused.

"The cowards didn't go for it," Paz finished for the man. Din gave him a glance to appear to reprimand the man, but in truth, Paz spoke the truth, and they all knew it.

"Right, so they sentenced him to life imprisonment with no chance of parole. He was to have his own transport, as he was deemed a flight risk to other inmates. But in transit, we lost contact with the shuttle. My squadron was tasked to investigate. I found his transport shot to all hell."

"I reported the find to Lieutenant Reed, and I am technically not supposed to give you all the details, let alone tell you, but, well. You all deserve to know." He paused before continuing. "The hull was breached, and no live signs were found, as both pilots were dead. But no signs of Gideon."

Teva looked down at the floor, sighed, and placed his hands on his hips. Before looking back up, "Only evidence left behind was a fragment of Beskar Alloy," causing the Mandalorians to again resort to yelling.

Teva raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. "No, hold on, hold on." They give him a chance to speak. "I am not accusing you all of anything. I'm just laying down the facts here. Based on your reaction, my guess was right. Now, it means there is either a rogue Mandalorian faction. OR," yelling before the Mandalorians could start once more." OR the Imperials occupying Mandalore have managed to figure out how to work the metal. Which leads me to suspect that his forces will be wearing some form of Beskar armor and that the Moff is likely present on your planet." He pauses to let the information sink in.

"Therefore. Mando:" He looks at Din. "I offer you my and my squadron's services in liberating your planet. Officially, we won't be there, but if you can send some sort of signal when it all goes down, it would give me some wiggle room with the brass. Ranger Dune has already left on 'sabbatical," putting air quotes around the word. "And is likely heading to help you wherever you are. I will clear it with General Syndulla."

Din looks at Bo, who nods slowly, and turns back to Teva. "I accept and will prepare space for Dune's sabbatical. Thank you for letting us know and giving us the benefit of the doubt. May I suggest patrolling in the Noonian sector to ensure Senator Falke's protection?" Din's suggestion is to lace the planning. If the Republic reinforcements are coming from a specific direction that is clear of Imperial remnants, the Mandalorians can plan accordingly.

"Sounds like a good idea. Given the senator's recent rescue, she deserves an escort back to her home sector from Coruscant," Teva says, picking up on Din's underlying meaning.

"Well, I better get going. Again, Mando, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. You have my word that we will help you take him down. Teva out," and the Holoprojection sputters out.

Silence falls on the group before Koska quips, "Well, for a blue boy, he seems like he's one of the good ones." Paz pipes in, "Blue's got a sense of honor about him."

The Armorer speaks up. "It seems the Mand'alor has the ability to form many of Mandalore's old enemies into potential allies." Turning to Din, "We shall leave your Aliit now. Hopefully, another one of your allies will not interrupt," saying it more to the Mandalorians present rather than Din.

Din nods to her as Bo joins him at his side, grasping his hand and intertwining their fingers, seemingly emboldened by the Armorer's words. Still makes Koska do a fake vomit gesture and noise. To which Axe punches her in the shoulder.

Din shakes his head while Bo muffles a giggle with her hand. They watch them leave before punching in the code for R2D2.

"Hey, R2, is it?" Bo asks, receiving what can be approximated as affirmative beeps. "Can you get Master Skywalker?" Din asks. They can hear the droid beginning to move, and Bo asks, "Is Ahsoka there?" They hear the droid stop and begin frantically beeping in a similar vein as its affirmative. "Can you get her too, please?" she asks, and the droid beeps once and continues moving.

A few minutes later, it seems R2 has found everyone, as the holoprojector starts up once more, revealing Master Skywalker sitting on a bench of some sort with Grogu in his lap. Ahsoka is standing behind him to his right.

Neither pair knew who should go first, but luckily Grogu did. He started cooing and babbling with exaggerated gestures to the point that Master Skywalker had to hold him more firmly to prevent the child from falling. Grogu seemed to be trying to catch the two of them up with what he had been doing the past few days.

Din knows the last call was a few days ago, but he was so nervous he must not have been paying attention. Feeling guilty, he says, "Wow," "That's amazing," and "Good job, kiddo", a bit more than he normally would to suggest he was paying attention to his kid.

Din did not notice the look Ahsoka and Bo were sharing at the adorableness of the man. Ahsoka was smothering her smile with her hand, and Bo was leaning into Din's shoulder. He must have felt her shoulders wiggling in silent laughter as he looked at her and asked, "What?" causing the lot of them to burst out laughing. Grogu was also confused and looked at everyone before joining in.

Only Din was left out of the joke.

Sighing, he shook his head. Ahsoka's laughter petered out, and she had to swipe a tear from her eye. "So as much fun as that was, you asked for both of us to be present," with the unsaid question of 'What trouble have you gotten into this time?', a question Bo knows she asked her old master often back in the Clone Wars.

Din starts to explain the situation. "We invite you and Grogu to join us at the Nite Owl base so Grogu can be written into the song of my clan." He holds up the chainmail shirt. Grogu goes NUTS in joy; he jumps out of Luke's lap before the master can grab a strong hold on him and dives directly at the camera with gusto. Knocking R2D2 over with a crash. Grogu looks fine, though, as he is bonking the camera with his claw and babbling rapidly at it before Ahsoka and Luke pull him off the droid and reorient the longtime Skywalker family droid.

Ahsoka holds Grogu, his green skin contrasting with her orange. "If I know you, Bo-Katan, there is more to the story." Bo nods and begins to explain the entirety. The clans are coming together to liberate Mandalore, and it is Grogu's right to be present, and the invitation of the Mand'alor and the command staff is that the Jedi are invited along with the New Republic to help, given the sheer number of Imperial forces and Gideon's escape.

"I always wanted to meet more Mandalorians. The only one I got to see fairly often was Boba Fett because he was hunting me and my friends. Sold Han to Jabba before he fell into the Sarlacc pit," Luke said.

"SO IT WAS YOU!" Din exclaimed, reviving two confused expressions. Din caught the two Jedi up on Boba's story since the pit and the fact that Boba will be present for the assembly and the assault.

Ahsoka was shocked. "To think Boba has gone from blowing up Republic cruisers to Daimyo of Tatooine. Definitely moving up in the galaxy. I'm fine with being around him, and I've already helped Mandalore before, so I will help. I could use any information from him to find the Grand Admiral."

"Ahsoka, you seriously are not still looking for him, are you?" Bo asked. Din looked at Bo. "Who?" Ahsoka explained. "Grand Admiral Thrawn. He was one of the highest-ranking Imperial officers and certainly the highest non-human. He was an excellent strategist. To put it simply, if he were present during the battles at the fall of the Empire. We would have lost. Badly"

Din thought for a moment, "Well, he's your bounty, so if Gideon has any intel about him, it's all yours."

Ahsoka looked at Luke, and the two shared nods. "Well, if my dramatic twink of a nephew and I are invited, we'll be there shortly with your energetic chaos gremlin."

Both Luke and Din explained some version of "HEY, don't call me/my son that," causing Bo to start laughing again.

Din shook his head. "See you soon. We will send coordinates of rendezvous points that can guide you to the base."

"May the Force be with you," the Jetti said simultaneously. Din didn't know what it meant but guessed he felt what everyone else felt when he or his covert quoted "this is the way" and hung up the call.

Bo mid-giggle "You have to admit Grogu is a chaos gremlin." Din looks at her. "He is, but he's still our son."

Bo suddenly stops laughing.

"What?" Din asks.

"He's our son." She responds with an ear-to-ear smile.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, he is," Din says as he realizes what he just said. It's still new to them, but Grogu is without a doubt their son.

And soon they will join their songs together, along with his forevermore.

Chapter Text

Love was in the air for the Mandalorian base on Vor Deo.

Well, more of 'the calm before the storm,' Bo thought. With the liberation of their planet on the horizon, she could understand many seeking comfort in case their loved ones were lost in the battles to come.

She overheard a brief exchange between Vera and her Riddur Mero about children. "My love, I do want a family with you, but I am afraid of what the long necks did to me. What if it hurts our children?" Bo heard Mero say. She learned "long neck" was a term the clones came up with for the Kaminoans, which was an apt description.

She knew little in regard to the genetic modification the cloners did, other than the obvious faster ageing. Bo knew she and Mero were not too far off in age by date, but the man looked like he was in his 60s.

Vera seemed not to care, as the hardened warrior displayed nothing but care and love for her partner, and Bo hastened her pace to give the couple some privacy.

While not in love nor in a relationship, Bo noticed the occasional spark between Axe and the Armorer. Bo had offered either Koska or Axe to "help her acclimatise" to the Nite Owls as a twofold punishment. She was punishing Axe or Koska for the 'Challenge Banthashit' they pulled (which she was still a bit pissed about, but was calming down). And she was punishing the Armorer for making Din a nervous wreck on the flight over.

Axe did always like authority figures. He chased after Bo for a few years after the purge, but nothing came of it really. His exes were a string of women and men who were almost always in a higher position than him. So she fully expected the Armorer to put the hammer to good use. Although Axe doesn't need more brain cell loss.

She caught the occasional Nite Owl couple or Nite Owl and another clan couple, thinking they were hidden enough to be making out in the nooks and crannies of the base. But given her own happiness in her relationship, she decided to let them enjoy themselves.

She and Din were great, in her book. Din was the bundle of joy she thought he would be once their relationship was official. He did not hide his affections from her and would reach out and touch her innocently during meetings or in public. Not in a claiming way… certain people in her past would make. But more of an excited, comforting way.

When they were alone, it was another matter altogether. Their space was synonymous with helmetless faces… and bare bottoms. He made up for his emotional moments from the trip over, even though he did not need to. Din was open with his fears, wants, and needs with her.

After the interruption on Tatooine, Koska took it upon herself to establish a knock and comm system for when anyone wanted to enter their room. With all the couples or almost couples in the base, Bo felt bad for Koska. But she began to form an idea when she recalled the Jetti were coming.

The Jetti's arrival did set most of the base's inhabitants on edge. The ancient enemy of the Mandalorians, coming to help them reclaim their home, was a touchy subject. But when they realized that the Mand'alor's ad (child) was a Jetti, they did calm down.

Mainly because of the little Jetti's cuteness.

Bo wasn't surprised that Grogu leapt straight from Skywalker's arms to Din, easily clearing a distance that would normally require a jetpack. Grogu blatantly refused to come out of the crook of Din's neck and the subsequent hugs that muffled the boy's sniffles. He had missed his dad deeply; despite their separation being around one year, it doesn't mean it is not hard on the boy (even if he's fifty, which sent Bo for a spin when she found out).

Bo walked over and joined them in a group hug of sorts. She thought she was overcome with the emotion of the moment. But she could not help herself; they were too damn ADORABLE. Din was jostling up and down and rubbing circles into Grogu's back, whispering sweet phrases at the boy. Bo only heard "There, there, kid, let it all out" when she got close. Her hand joined Din's on the child's back, and she kissed Grogu on the head for the two of them.

Grogu giggled slightly as she nuzzled the specks of hair on his head and gently rubbed his ear between her fingers, noting how warm they were. After the moment passed, the three of them seemed to remember there were other people in the space with them, and Grogu jerked up from Din's neck and did a grabby gesture towards Bo.

Bo didn't know what to do; she wanted to hold the boy close, but was overcome with worry. What if she dropped him? Or held him in the wrong way? What if it made him hate her and no longer regard her as his mama?

Din slowly transferred Grogu to her, guiding her arms on how to hold him. His fuzzy head was under her chin now, and she gently hugged the small being to her, whispering, "Mama's got you now," and focused her whole world onto the child in her arms that, for lack of a better word, was purring like a lothcat.

Completely zoning out the conversation between Din and the Jetti, and the facial expressions of Ahsoka, Axe, and Koska.

Bo was a mother now, and if they had an opinion, they could shove it up their ass and deal with it.

As would every other person in the base who looked at her in awe as she walked through the base with the green baby in her arms. It seemed to be a Paz irritation preventer, as he normally annoyed her or Din with something benign or downright stupid, but with Grogu, he turned into a giant teddy bear of an uncle (a possible link she did not want to think about).

Although his clan did make a bed for Grogu rather quickly. The Armorer, Paz, and Axe seemed partially happy with the final product. His whole clan showered Grogu with small trinkets and gifts. Even Ragnar and the other kids seemed to enjoy Grogu being around.

She wished she could see Din's face, as he seemed to always be looking in their direction, whether it be through the corner of his visor when running through the Jetti of their plan (and Ahsoka commenting she would be making adjustments shortly). Or walking side by side with her, looking directly at them.

Bo felt content; her life at the moment was fantastic. She had a soon-to-be husband and child who loved her more than anything. The multiple clans seemed to get along (Din did have to squash a few fights that got out of hand, normally offering the Darksaber: "If you don't want them here, challenge and you better win. If not, find common ground.")

Her plans to set Koska up with one of the Jetti seemed to go well, as the little blonde caught Koska's attention, but so did Ahsoka. Ahsoka had grown into a tall, objectively beautiful woman from that day on Carlac, where she aggressively slapped Ahsoka's ass. She wondered which Koska would go for, as Bo knew both were Koska's type.

She was not surprised when Grogu slept with her. He did have a negative reaction when Din took off his helmet in their room. Probably associating the act with Grogu leaving. The three of them had a long conversation, explaining that they're not leaving, but it is because Din considers Grogu to be his son. They asked Grogu if he preferred to be adopted now or after liberating Mandalore. Through playing charades, they learned he wanted both. Either one required the Armorer to be present so she could write him into the songs.

Which, in hindsight, was not a bad idea.

It afforded them the legitimacy and privacy of the moment but also recognized the significance of their positions once the planet is reclaimed. Din would be Mand'alor, and Bo would be officially his consort. Din hated her title, as it diminished her value. "Bo, you are so much more than a consort; I want you by my side as an equal. You mean more to me than that belittling title. I wish I could share mine with you," he added absentmindedly.

"Din, you know as well as I do that Mand'alor means sole ruler by literal definition. I am okay with my title; it is more than I dese—"

"—NO. None of that self-deprecation, Bo-Katan." Din points at her. And Grogu looks at her grumpily. "If you won't allow me to do it, then I won't allow you to either. We both feel the other is too good for us, but we are a family. Family doesn't put one above the other; we are all equal. OKAY?" he asks pointedly.

Bo sighs and scratches underneath Grogu's chin, looking straight into Din's brown eyes. "Okay."

Din leaned over and kissed Bo. Pulling back after a squawk from Grogu at being left out, Din dove at his boy, peppering the child with kisses while tickling his sides. Grogu burst out in squeaks and laughter. Bo couldn't stop the smile on her lips from forming.

"Don't worry, kiddo, I'll get him," she said while tackling him to the head of the bed, trying to tickle him while he was trying to block her. With his hands occupied, Grogu force-jumped to his face and began blowing raspberries into Din's face. "No, no, stop," Din begged, the child's spit going all over Din's face. Bo glanced at Grogu, who turned his head in such a way that it looked like he was going to keep spinning and lift off the ground with the lift force of those big ears. "I dunno, Ad'ika, shall we let him go?" she asked.

Grogu looked from her to Din and back to her twice. And nodded his head and did a box gesture with his hands. "You want to watch a movie, kid?" Din asked. Grogu bobbed his head up and down. "Alright, you snuggle into Mom, and I'll put on your favorite," much to the child's delight.

Grogu used the Force to lift up the bed's pillows to support the humanoid's back, and Bo laid down. "Why, such a gentleman, Sir Grogu," she jokingly quipped. Grogu rushed to her side, bouncing up and down, while Din brought the projector from the office next door into the bedroom and set up the movie and snuggled down with his loved ones.

Hours later.

Bo woke up, using Din's chest as a pillow, and Grogu using it as a bed. She felt a little sick. She did not want to wake either of the two boys, but knew she needed haste.

Bo uncurled her legs from Din's and held up the arm that held her to him so she could slip out. Placing the hand onto Grogu's back, who stirred slightly but melted and purred back to sleep.

Practically sprinting silently to the fresher, she puked directly into the toilet. She felt horrible but had no idea why. She ate the same as the others at the base (including the welcome cake that Ragnar made). If it was poisoned, Din would be as sick as she is, but he looked of normal complexion.

Running through the myriad of possible reasons, she found one where she had to do the math. But it couldn't be that.

After a few minutes, the test suggested that yes, it was the reason she was sick, as two red lines indicated one of her worst fears, especially when going into a potentially deadly battle in the coming days.

She was pregnant.

Chapter Text

To tell Din or not to tell Din—that is the question Bo is facing.

On one hand, she tells her soon-to-be husband, whom she loves very much, that they will be having another child.

On the other hand, they are going into a dangerous battle that could end up in death or injury.

Bo worries that he is already concerned with her safety and well-being enough as is. Since travelling together, he has ironically tried to correct her bad habit of neglecting her health. Despite being extremely busy himself, he has ensured that the two of them eat adequate amounts (which is a drop in the water compared to the amount Grogu eats), shower, and sleep.

It's ironic coming from him. She was very pissed when she found out almost all of his scars were from him using a cauteriser rather than the proper way to heal. His using the Darksaber as one was the LAST time he did it. Mainly because Bo forbade him to do so. Made him promise to use proper healing resources, or she'll unleash the Nite Owl Medic on him. The threat certainly worked.

Deciding not to tell him yet.

Yet being the key word.

Still, her decision did not stop her from dreaming of what the child would look like. What gender would they be? Would they look more like him or her? Whose personality would be more prevalent? Bo wished with all she had that it would be a boy like Din. Despite years of therapy and Din's assurances that she is a good person, Bo hopes her child will be nothing like her, nor experience the things Bo has had to endure.

Waking up with her new family was fantastic, if only Grogu's foot didn't end up in her face as he rolled around in his sleep on top of Din's chest. But if that was how she could wake up for the rest of her life, it was absolutely worth it.

Cara Dune arrived the next day; the Jedi, Din, Koska, and Bo met her in the hangar. She was flying a ship that Bo did not recognise, which is a feat in and of itself.

She traced the ship's hull with her eyes. The ship had an angular sweep hull, and the bottom engine wing folded into itself to allow the ship to land while the engine gun batteries rotated upwards to provide the ship with downward thrust. Bo could tell this ship was plastered with different weapons, but certainly nimble and as fast as her Gauntlet. Bo guessed that each side engine could rotate independently for sharp turns, like how the gauntlet wings can.

This ship was designed for combat first and foremost. Bo wanted to take it for a spin and believed it would be extremely useful in the fight to come. A ramp extended down, and a familiar shock trooper strolled out, arms out. "MANDO," she yelled.

Din strolled towards her, and Bo, with Grogu in her arms, followed. Cara and Din met in a warrior's handshake, their hands in the crook of the elbow, grasping at each other's forearms. "Good to see you, Cara; thanks for coming."

"Hey, it wouldn't miss it for the galaxy. Any day to stomp a few bucketheads is a good day in my book," she said before looking at Bo and Din. "Except Mandalorians, of course." The three shared a mild chuckle.

Bo's curiosity got the better of her. "Nice ship," she said as a statement with the underlying question of 'What ship is that?'. Cara looked at her while she rotated to slap Din on the shoulder. "She is a beauty that was extremely hard to find. It's an Old Republic D5-Mantis Patrol Craft. Probably one of the last of its kind. Peli really helped me out, as she needed quite a lot of work to make her flyable and update many of the systems and weapons. Do you like it, pal?" she asked Din.

He nodded. "Good, because Peli said you were looking for a pre-empire ship to replace the Crest. Think of it as a coronation present from the two of us, although you are not getting the credits; you already paid her back." As she slammed Din on the back with enough force, Din took a step towards the ship.

Din looked at her and back at the ship, hesitantly. "Peli said," and she puts on her highest-pitched voice, "It's no Razor Crest, but she'll do the job ten times better."

Bo took another once-over of Din's new ship (he hasn't accepted, but if he doesn't, she will); the D5 definitely looked more put together than the Crest. Bo had to realize that the Crest she saw just came from a battle with bounty hunters and giant spiders. The fishing net that the mechanics used on Trask didn't help the 'barely holding together' vibe of Din's old ship.

Din walked up and ran his hand over the hull while Cara walked closer to Bo. As Cara tried to give Grogu a fist bump, she spoke to Bo. "Your gift is in the weapon bay." Bo looked at her confused, and the larger woman explained, "Koska reached out to me to swipe any disruptor rifles that the Republic seized. She explained the whole situation. It's adorable that you would get your new boyfriend a gun. Better be an invite to the wedding."

Bo blushed, and Grogu giggled at his mama. "Will do. If we're able, we plan to do it after Mandalore is secure. Hopefully, the Living Waters are still there, but we can't be sure after the bombings and whatever Gideon has done to our home."

Cara looked solemn for a moment. "It's good that you can fight and reclaim your home from the empire." Bo joined the dip in the mood. Ignoring Din's joy as he explores the ship, he will 'totally not accept the gift, for it is too much,' but absolutely will.

He calls out to Cara from inside the ship. Probably so he can ask her to explain some aspect of it, and she lifts up her head and jogs over. Bo is tempted to join him until she hears Ahsoka's voice from behind her. "There he is."

Turning to the voice, the Togruta is referring to Grogu. Bo tries to dislodge her son, who adamantly refuses. Grogu has been glued to her since she woke up. Ahsoka watches the interaction. The two Jetti look at each other; Bo reasons they are having a conversation in their heads again. "You are quite right, Grogu. Your sibling is quite vulnerable right now, but you should know your mama is a strong warrior who can protect them as they grow."

Bo blanked as she panicked internally.

Grogu knows.

Ahsoka knows.

Does Din know? Have they told him? Will they tell him? She's not ready for him to know; she decided it was not time. They can't tell him.

Bo feels a hand gently fall on her shoulder. Looking directly into Bo's eyes with a soft expression. "It's alright. Bo-Katan. You're fine, the baby is fine, and Din and Grogu are fine. Breathe, my friend."

Bo inhales deeply and exhales slowly. Grogu coos and puts one of his three-pronged claws on her cheek. "I'm alright, kiddo; I just panicked for a second. I only found out last night; I promise I will tell your dad soon. I have a feeling he will be over the moon."

Ahsoka comments. "I agree. I had a feeling something like this would happen when you sent him to me." Bo looked at her. "Really?" Ahsoka nodded. "Something about him screamed that he would be good for you, and the force agreed. You could have sent him to Sabine or Kestis, but you sent him to me, someone who knows you. Bo-Katan, I am happy for you. I think the two of you are adorable and will be happy. It's all I want for my friends. And I believe Satine would like him."

The idea that her staunchly pacifist sister would like her bounty hunter partner was absurd. But if Satine got to know the man under the Beskar, the two would find common ground.

Ahsoka continued, "I will not tell him, nor will you, grouchy," looking sharply at Grogu. "Hey, my son is not grouchy; he's just protective or hungry. Isn't that right, kiddo?" Grogu chirped and shoved his head into Bo's chestplate to avoid Ahsoka's gaze.

The two women shared a look before Bo suggested, "How about we get some food, kiddo?" Grogu's ears twitched, and he slowly pulled himself away from her chest before babbling and waving his arms around excitedly. "That's a yes," Ahsoka says as the two walk towards the mess hall.

Inside the ship, Cara is pointing out the various features and upgrades Peli did. Like the newer plasma cannons, the overhauled sublight engines have vector-thrust nozzles for sharper manoeuvring. Upgraded sensor suite with long-range gravimetric scanners and signal scrambler Din knows and loves.

When in the cockpit, Cara sits in the co-pilot seat while Din fiddles with all the controls. She looks down and steels her resolve. "Mando," she says, gaining his attention.

"I didn't want to say this in front of Kryze in case it came across wrong, but," she looks up at Din. "You have a mole."

Din blanks for a moment before exploding, "WHAT?!"

Cara explains, "Look. We've managed to place Mayfeld on the inside of the Imps surrounding Mandalore. He reached out to me after I picked up the ship from Peli. He said the imps know about the base here. He said they suddenly changed the procedure. Now, all convoys between Concordia and Mandalore have an escort of TIEs. He was rotated to Concordia due to an apparent 'populace revolt' when Migs didn't even know there were people on Concordia. Sudden changes right before an attack say to me, You have a mole."

Din was shocked. He didn't know what to do. He felt like he was barely holding everyone together and had no idea how to deal with a mole if her claims were real. While Mayfeld is a lying bastard, Din knows from Morak that Migs HATES imperials and has a decent reason to.

Last time he saw him, Mayfeld was dropping off the intel and credits from Cara, so it's not a big leap to suggest he is still working for her, considering he is an escaped convict (who Din thought they freed).

But a Mandalorian Mole? unbelievable. No true Mandalorian would work with Imperials after what they did to their planet and people. Din knows Clan Saxon is still spat on for past allegiance to the empire before the Saxon brothers' demise. Din had no idea who it could be.

He quickly went through a list of who it could not possibly be: Boba or anyone from the Tatooine clan, for they had not arrived yet and thus did not know the plan. The Jetti for the same reason, and the purge that the Jetti also experienced. Bo and himself. He thought most of the Nite Owl command staff were okay, but he hadn't spoken to any of them in some time, other than Koska or Axe, and they had proved themselves as schemers, but Bo believed the two had Mandalore's best interests at heart.

He did not like how neither his own clan nor Awaud was exempt from suspicion. If it got out, both tribes would likely be the first to be under suspicion. His tribe surely are not traitors, and the same with the Awauds. Vera and Mero fought against the Empire, and they lost countless friends and family during the Rebellion.

Din did not know what to do.

Cara was right that it could come across wrong, as it was a fragile peace between the clans. He trusts Cara. She wouldn't tell him to sabotage the Mandalorian's liberation of their planet. Cara's from Alderan; there is no chance of survivors of her homeworld helping the Imperials in any way.

But he needs to tell Bo.

As Din accepts the likelihood of there being an Imperial spy amongst them.

But for now, Din can freak out.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Chapter Text

Panic is a familiar state of mind for Din, as familiar as his Buir's embrace. Yet Din knows it's not a good state to be in to make decisions. But a spy in their midst is a valid reason to panic.

So it is surprising that Bo barely panics at all.

When they were alone in their room, just about to go to bed, Din asked Bo to sit on the edge of the bed and inform her of the spy. He expected her to freak out as he did (still does). But Bo simply said, "Oh well, that was quick," like that is the penultimate answer to the universe and their problems.

Din recalls Bo's reaction to Koska and Axe's perceived betrayal and thought an imperial spy would inspire a similar reaction.

But alas.

Bo must have read the confused expression on Din's face (he's still trying to learn to control them), so she continued. "Cyar'ika (sweetheart), you do remember I fought against the empire since day one. And Gideon was one of the demagolka (war criminals) that was in charge." Both of her hands were nervously picking at her skin while she looked away from Din.

"One of his preferred methods is to turn someone from the inside and use them for information, to not only stop our plans but to demoralize us. It would not surprise me if he planted the evidence for Cara to find, not only to sow discord in our ranks like he has done before, but also as a warning to the spy to fall in line."

She looked at Din with her normal fire behind her eyes. "It's downright insulting that he would fall back to his usual methods."

Din ponders her words for a moment before adding, "Or he is underestimating us because I am in charge?"

Bo stands abruptly, places a hand under her chin, and paces the length of the bed frame three times. "He knows I am in your inner circle, but he may expect you only to consider counsel from the tribe. That idiot doesn't know that big beautiful head of yours is actually smart when it wants to be."

Din chuckles at the insult and places his hands on her shoulders and asks, "So, what do we do?"

Bo cocked her head to the side and gestured with her thumb towards the bed. And the two had the unspoken agreement to solve it in the morning, for it was late. At some point in the night, Grogu must have left his makeshift bed that Paz made for him and joined his parents, snuggling close to Bo. This loving family of three (four) will solve the problem in the morning.

Over breakfast, Bo laid out the normal procedure to tackle spies, which is to compartmentalise. Let each clan take control of one aspect of the liberation, while the clan heads and only clan heads were aware of not only the spy but also the part of the plan closest to their own, and it was as follows.

Phase 1

Boba Fett and the people of Tatooine will assist those hiding on Concordia with Mayfeld as an inside man. They would attack first, purposefully looking like a ragtag bunch to draw out ground troops, and attempt to draw one or more of the Star Destroyers out of position towards the planet for the Awaud ships to assault from the side and rear.

Phase 2

Clan Awaud, with the most ships, would coordinate with Din, Bo, and Teva's squadron for the battle in space, as it could be the most risky given the Imperial firepower and TIE fighter capacity. Din looked forward to testing out his new ship.

This is the most crucial phase, as neither planet's forces will survive if they are cut off from the other.

While it was agreed that Mandalore would be the priority, as the Concordia is mostly stripped of Beskar, and according to Mayfeld, while patrols are ramping up, it is mostly a skeleton crew and minimal armor assets. The people taking Concordia do not deserve to die for helping Mandalorians take back their home.

Phase 3

Nite Owls would coordinate the battle in space to attempt to punch a hole in the Imperial blockade and allow the Mandalorian forces to reach the planet's surface for the first time since the Night of a Thousand Tears.

Troop transports will provide air support. Jet troops will act as a quick reaction force to support any planetary assault after they secure a landing zone on Mandalore for the Children of the Watch.

Children of the Watch, as the tribe with mostly light and heavy infantry, would be the ground force; they would push out to draw Gideon and any stormtroopers out of hiding. Skywalker and Ahsoka would also make key appearances on the ground to draw more forces to them rather than the tribe.

They will not be able to hold out for long, and phase 4 would be to bring troops from Concordia over to Mandalore to help once both phases 1 & 2 are complete. A small force will be left on Concordia with deep space sensors to detect any Imperial reinforcements from surrounding sectors.

Bo explained that each tribe would only know their part of the plan and to report immediately if and when their part in the phases was particularly foiled or faced with more resistance than expected.

Ahsoka was present during each briefing of each tribe, and Cara was monitoring outgoing communications from the Vor Deo base. Ahsoka was reading the recipients in the Force for any deception or warnings in the Force, and she found none but admitted, "Beskar does muffle the Force, so I was not able to get the best reading. On anyone."

After Vera and her Riddur Mero left, Bo commented to her friend, "Hey, where's the one following you around? What's his name, Tex?" Ahsoka shook her head. "Rex," she corrected.

"Rexter is helping out Echo and the Batch with Omega. "Wrecker's heart gave out a few months ago, and they've had a hard time with it lately," she explained.

Bo shook her head. "Kaminoans did a number on the clones. It freaked me out when I saw Rex with the big white beard," Ahsoka chuckled. "It reminds Luke and me of Master Kenobi," as she did a mocking imitation of the famous Kenobi beard curl gesture, causing Bo to snort. "Korkie did try and grow one like him, you know, tried to be like the father he never knew, but it never quite fitted him."

Ahsoka looked down at the floor solemnly. "It makes me wonder what would have happened if Anakin told Obi-Wan about the kids. How would things have turned out?"

Bo-Katan was one of the only people Ahsoka told about Anakin being Darth Vader when she figured it out. It had to be a secret, and his friends and family would be as crushed as Ahsoka was if they found out (she didn't think he would just straight up tell Luke, but she always knew the small part of her master lived on inside Vader's penchant for the dramatic).

Bo noticed Ahsoka close her eyes and look up and slightly to her side. It's the normal expression of trying to sense something. Before a smile formed on her face (full fang) and she looked at Bo, her smile reached her eyes. And she took a step closer to Bo. "Don't think it will be twins like Padmé, but I think Grogu is looking forward to being a big brother. I can already sense the mischief they will get up to."

Bo reaches for her stomach with both hands, looks down at the bump she noticed had started to barely form before looking up to her friend. "Don't tell me if you can tell; Din deserves to find out with me. But thanks for the foreboding warning. I will try and be prepared for toddler mischief and high jinks."

Ahsoka put a hand on Bo's shoulder. "Burc'ya (friend, used ironically), you have no idea what you are up against."

Chapter Text

The preparations for the assault progressed without any major issues; Cara did not find any outgoing communications that were blaringly obvious red flags. Din was confident the spy was not one of the Nite Owls.

Yes, he had gone against his word and claimed his title, but there has been no discontent, no whispers, or concerns put up the chain. The Owls supported Din irrespective of his secret (not so secret) relationship with Bo.

From him winning them the Cruiser, the Base, and the challenge, all three of which had footage that circulated like wildfire, only providing more support for him (although the Armorer and Paz were as pissed as Bo was at Din throwing the Darksaber as a weapon).

Whenever he was in the presence of Nite Owls, they would bow their heads, salute with a fist over their hearts, and say his title with full reverence and conviction. He ruled the Owls out of suspicion.

It was not his job to find the spy, for his new job required him to be a leader and approve battle plans, logistical requests, or other menial jobs. The core of his very being dearly missed being on the hunt, so he secretly would dip out from meetings when he could to go find clues. He formed a rotating coalition of those who would cover for him. While he never lied to them, they certainly formed different ideas of what he was doing. For example, Koska believed he was skipping meetings to go "rendezvous with a certain redhead."

While he did meet her a few times, it was never what Koska thought, sadly—well, not fully, as Din did enjoy the make-out session in a storage closet.

Grogu was thriving with all the attention he was getting. He loved being carried on Paz's shoulders, as the massive man was one of the tallest in the base, and Ahsoka didn't let Grogu ride her due to the sensitivity of her montrals.

There was the scary moment with the golden lady. After Ragnar swore the creed in a public ceremony, Din, Bo, and Grogu were brought into one of the rooms the tribe had claimed. Inside a forge not too dissimilar to the one from Nevarro.

They knelt in silence with the golden lady facing away from them. Grogu could feel the emotions in the Force. The waters in the big bowl sang to him, and the big clangs of her hammer scared him as it reminded him of the bad times.

He didn't like that the golden lady made Buir (parent) nervous. Grogu loves how Buir has always been brave for him and always came back for him. He doesn't like how he gets hurt, though, and is scared that he will be hurt real bad, bad enough that Grogu won't see him anymore.

Master Luke says to let his fears flow into the Force and not to hold on to his attachment to Buir. But Grogu thinks that's a load of Bantha shit. He heard Mama and Master Tano say that word. When Grogu can speak properly, he thinks it would be funny to say it in front of Buir.

So, Grogu swears he will protect Buir, and Buir will not be hurt. Grogu will heal Buir. Buir will live with Grogu always. Mama will help Grogu help Buir. Mama gives good hugs. Not as good as Buir, but Grogu likes it when Mama and Buir give him hugs. Grogu can feel the love for everyone when they cuddle at night.

The scary gold lady finally spoke. "Din Djarin." She turned to the three of them. "Your foundling has been returned to his people as per your quest." She pauses and looks at each of them, her helmet moving slightly with each glance. "But he has chosen you and your betrothed as his aliit (family)."

"He has chosen to be a Mandalorian. And to bear the signet of your clan, to sing the songs of our people, and to hold the tenets of the Resol'nare deep within his heart." She takes a step towards the three of them, with something in her hands. "He is unable to speak the words of the Creed. And will have the choice to when he is able."

She looks at Din. "You have chosen to wait to speak the words of the riduurok (marriage) when the living waters are safe to host such pledges, if they are still there. And you will renew your gai bal manda (adoption vow) there as well. But the child wishes to be written into your song now as well." Her final sentence was framed as a statement, but it was indeed a question for Grogu.

Grogu steeled his resolve to stand and look at the scary gold lady and mustered out "lek (yes)." Grogu felt the wave of satisfaction coming from his parents and the scary gold lady, oddly enough. "Well then. Din Djarin, Bo-Katan Kryze. I will bear witness to your vow and will add him to your songs. It is a joyous day for a child of the found to be known as the child of their allit. For children are the future. This is the way."

Both Din and Bo repeated the phrase simultaneously. "This is the way."

The Armorer knelt and indicated with her hands that this was the time. The couple would take turns with Din first.

Din picked Grogu up, turning the child to face him, and lowered his helmet to touch Grogu's forehead in a Keldabe kiss. And said the adoption vow. "Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad Din Grogu" (I know your name as my child). Grogu could hear in Buir's voice that the man was crying, but not sad tears, happy tears. Grogu reached his claws to either side of the helmet in a hug. Although he didn't need to say anything, Grogu could not help but say "patuuu" in a quiet voice. But what he meant was "I love you, Buir."

Din lifted his helmet from Grogu and handed the child to Bo, who repeated the gesture. She had her helmet on to honor the traditions of Din's tribe, and Grogu thought it was odd, but he could still feel her in the Force. He had learned to feel Buir through the muffling of his beskar. It helped that Buir felt loudly.

Bo also said the vow but, as agreed with Din, added her name. "Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad Din Grogu Kryze." Grogu hugged her helmet as well but said, "Mama." Bo broke the Keldabe kiss and brought Grogu to her chest in a hug. "Ni kar'taylir darasuum (I will hold you in my heart forever), Grogu," as Din moved over to put an arm around Bo's shoulders and a hand on Grogu's back.

The Armorer gave them a long moment before breaking the sniffle-filled silence. "And so let it be written in song that Din Djarin and Bo-Katan Kryze accept this foundling as their son. Din Grogu Kryze is the future and will bring honor to their clan and house. This is the way."

"This is the way," they heard Paz and Ragnar say from behind them. For a very large man, he was very sneaky. They began clapping, and the door opened as the rest of Din's tribe began flowing through into the room. Walking over to help the family up, but also clapping their hands on their shoulders in congratulations and gently rubbing Grogu's ears. Paz booped Grogu's nose, causing Grogu to giggle.

Ragnar said, "Now I'm not the youngest anymore. I will be your ori'vod (big brother)," he tells Grogu. Din clears his throat. "Actually, Grogu is 52." If Ragnar was not wearing his helmet per the Creed, everyone would see his eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in irritation. "Oh, come on, that's not fair; he's tiny." Paz chuckled at his son's reaction. "It is not the size of the warrior but the size of his heart," pointing to Ragnar's chest, "soul," placing the pointing finger flat on his chest, "and mind," reaching up to his son's head.

"Remember never to underestimate your opponent; just because they are smaller, bigger, or a different species than you does not mean you are automatically better than them. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. It is our task to learn our own, for if you know both yours and theirs, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles."

Paz turned the humorous moment into a learning moment for his son. Din definitely wanted to steal some tips for fatherhood from his old rival. "I know, Buir," Ragnar said solemnly. Seeing the boy get sad, Grogu started to do grabby hands towards Ragnar. Bo huffed and reluctantly let the boy hold her son. She had no idea what chaos those two would get up to, but she would learn eventually.

Ahsoka was a Ka'ra sent. Her history as a commander in the Clone Wars gave her experience that not many had. Yes, Bo and other Mandalorians fought during the Empire's reign, but they never could involve themselves in large space battles. Mandalorians were drilled and skilled pilots, but Ahsoka was like an admiral on their side. Mero helped with what he could, being her de facto second during the planning.

He was always skeptical of the plan to attack the Star Destroyers head-on. For that was the false plan that the Awauds were led to believe. Vera did not want to lie to her riddur (husband), but when she learned of the spy, her rage knew no bounds. His skepticism never grew from suggesting alternate ways of attack (mainly the actual plan). Ahsoka always played his suggestions off with "I learned how to spring a trap from my masters."

Everything was set.

Everyone had their roles; ships were fully stocked with ammunition and fueled for the trip to the Noomian sector (although that was a secret as well) to be refuelled before the assault, just in case. Senator Falke had volunteered some of her planet's fighters to help and stocked up on humanitarian resources and terraforming equipment for when the planet was secured.

It was decided that the old and injured would go to Tatooine. Because "while I am old, they are not senile," as one elder from Clan Awaud told Din. They could still fight, so they would protect the innocent of Tatooine from invaders, as Boba was still concerned about a retaliation attack from the Pikes or Black Sun syndicates. His people were sending their defenders, bounty hunters, mercenaries, or the occasional blaster-armed ex-slave or person just out of their teens looking to get away from that sandball.

The royal couple's relationship was not a secret any longer; Din saw the occasional bag of credits being exchanged. Whenever he caught them, they typically said, "It was a bet of when, not if, Mand'alor." A Nite Owl commented before they saw Bo, "If she didn't claim you after the challenge, there were dozens of us wanting to, but we didn't out of respect for—" before seeing Bo and panicking and stumbling over their words. Bo only raised an eyebrow at the event.

Paz was not happy; he did not like Bo, but that was because she was who many blamed for the Night of a Thousand Tears, as she was in charge during the purge but was nowhere to be seen.

Din thought he would challenge her to get the truth out into the open. Instead, when the three of them were alone (as Grogu was celebrating with the Nite Owls, who wanted to make him their mascot and jokingly said they should rename themselves to the Nite Grogus), Paz looked at Bo, then back to Din, and spoke.

"Your chosen life partner has a long and bloody history. There are those who… blame her for a particular loss. I don't. Pre was a hut'uun (coward) and deserved what he got. While I don't like her." He looked at Bo, and she puffed out her chest in defiance.

He paused, breathed deeply, and continued.

"The Creed tells us of redemption. There is no sin that the Living Waters cannot wash off. But her actions will deem her worthy of absolution. So far she has proven herself trustworthy, and I have no doubt she will be a good mother to your son. Out of respect for you both, I will push my… sentiments aside and follow you both as is the way. Just"

He looked down to the floor before sighing and looking straight at Din. "Just don't fail to reclaim our home. I always dreamed of taking Ragnar to the waters. Please let him be the first Vizsla to spend his childhood in our ancestral home."

Din looked at Bo, who nodded at him. Din extended out his arm in a warrior's handshake. "We will succeed, Vod (brother)," and Paz looked at his arm and met it in a strong handshake. "Vor entye (thank you, I accept this debt)." Din shook his head. "No debt, for children are the future."

The three of them simultaneously said, "This is the way."

Paz left them to go snag their son back and go to bed.

Bo, Grogu, and Din settled in for the final night as a family. Grogu had tired himself out from showing the new chainmail shirt he received from the Armorer as recognition of his desire to be a Mandalorian and his parents' child.

As the three cuddled, Din kissed the two sentinels he loved most in the entire galaxy. "I love you both so much. Whatever happens, know that." He looks at Bo. "Cyare (beloved), I am so happy we met that day on Trask, even though I never imagined the beautiful woman would be my future Riduur (spouse). I will do all I can to make it back to you."

He looked at Grogu while Bo covered her mouth, muffling the sniffles, but she could not hide the tears. "Grogu, you are my son; truthfully, you have been my son for longer than I thought. Finding you changed my life. Because of you, I am learning how to be a person again, and I love you."

He kisses both on the forehead while Bo says, "I love you too," and Grogu says, "Patu," but means the same as his mama. He held them close and heard Bo say into his chest, "You better come back to us, you di'kut (idiot). I will kill you if you die on us," causing Din to giggle in mirth.

Bo reached up to kiss him deeply. Internally, she hates that she is a crying mess and blames it on the pregnancy hormones, but Din does not know that. He better make it back to her, to his children. She has lost her family before, and she does not believe she can bear to lose them again.

But she knows what war is coming, and in war, nothing is safe.

Chapter Text

Boba didn't like Mayfield.

Fennec didn't like Mayfield.

Cobb didn't mind Mayfield but had limited interactions with the man. Both Boba and Fennec were aware of Mayfield's reputation as the ex-imperial who would betray anyone for the promise of a few credits.

And to place the lives of the free people of Tatooine in his hands filled Boba with a level of dread and concern no amount of booze could mask.

Boba knew the plan for his part. They would pretend to be pirates shooting at various transports filled with mercenaries and bounty hunters. The transports would frantically call over the radio for anyone to help them. Drawing Imperial airships on Concordia away from the factories and bases. Simultaneously, the Mandalorian survivors would infiltrate and place explosives at key target areas of the air defenses, with Mayfeld letting them in the back door.

The transports would 'crash' land near more heavily fortified positions and use the distraction to assault the base. Boba was confident that Fennec and he would be able to deal with the couple of Ties that were sent their way. Hopefully, drawing more attention from the Star Destroyers.

Mayfeld did tell Boba about the increased presence on the planet, and therefore, the free people of Tatooine would jump in once the initial attacks are completed. The initial hopes are to not destroy everything, but they are the reinforcements if needed.

Boba was pleasantly surprised that the plan was partly made not only by Din but also by the Jedi Ahsoka Tano. He remembers her as the one who foiled his plans to kill Windu as a pre-teen. He has no hard feelings towards her; he actually admired her back in the day. He found out after the Sarlacc Pit that she was the Fulcrum he had hunted with no avail during the Empire. In hindsight, her markings and the Fulcrum symbol were a dead ringer for each other. So he fully believes Vader was more of an idiot than he once thought.

He was thankful that the mercenaries and bounty hunters had offered their services to Boba. He had a suspicion that they were the leak that Din informed them about. But each had no allegiance to the Pikes. He ensured anyone who came with them had a semblance of honor. No innocent casualties on their records. No child bounties. Anyone who sold anyone into slavery got a blaster bolt in the head.

It was more of them testing to see what Boba would do with his new position. To test his mettle.

Everyone was in position and ready to jump. Fennec gave Boba a nod. "Your time to shine, boss." The two had played Sabacc on the way over with the bet that Boba had to make a speech if she won (she did). He barely remembers what he would get if she won, as the booze certainly didn't help his game.

Boba grumbled in displeasure before opening the comm channel to his section of the forces.

"Free people of Tatooine and those of the Guilds with us today, as you know, I am Boba Fett, Daimyo of all dune seas of Tatooine. I thank you for aiding me in this fight today. For some, it is repayment for what Mand'alor Din Djarin did for us. For others, it is for credits. Both are fine with me."

He pauses as he has no idea what to say. Fennec raises her eyebrow and gestures with her hand, basically saying, 'Go on.'

He sighs.

"Look, the Empire, as we all know, was and still is no better than the Hutts or the Pikes. They enslaved millions and mined hundreds of worlds for nothing for their own ambitions. Mandalore is the ancestral home of my father, but it wasn't and isn't my home. My home is Tatooine. Not because of my title, but because it is where Boba Fett, the unloyal bastard bounty hunter, died inside the stomach of a sarlacc. It is where Daimyo Boba Fett was reborn on the dune sea."

"No more will the people of Tatooine be slaves to Depur, like Hutts or Zygerians, or to spice. We will be an independent world. Our allies will be forged in battle. Mandalorian Din Djarin has promised an alliance with Tatooine (no, he didn't, but he would) for our help today. I ask for you all to fight with me; raise your blasters against the imperials that deigned to be a part of an empire built on the backs of slaves. I ask you to fight in the name of our home and help me forge a new path ahead for the people of Tatooine!!!"

Boba was shouting near the end, and he could hear the war cries on the other end of the comm before he muted it. "How was that?" he asked. Fennec looked at him before turning to face the space in front of them in her gunner's seat. "A good start, boss."

The final checks were made, and the transport and 'pirate' ships jumped into hyperspace.

Boba could hear the acting: "MADAY MADAY MADAY, this is Transport Two, Three, and Six of the Fondor Guild of Starshipwrights. We are under attack by pirates; they have damaged our hyperdrive. PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP US," they heard the outer rim twang come through the speakers.

Boba joked to Fennec, "Cobb's laying it on thick," before he saw her let off a shot that detonated very close to the lead ship, making the call.

The Imperials responded. "Fondor transports two, three, and six turn around. This is restricted Imperial airspace," to which the actor responded, "Negative, we need immediate assistance." We cannot lose this cargo. The Moff will have our asses if we make it out of this; we are carrying Imperial cargo."

"Understood, Fondor transports. Fighters are launching to assist you. We are transporting landing pad coordinates. Land there and let us deal with those plundering filth."

"Thank you—" they were interrupted when they set off the small explosive on the rear of their hull. Big enough to start a fire trail but small enough not to damage an engine exhaust. " This is transport 2; one of our sublight thrusters has been hit. Prepare fire crews at pad 4." They were not going anywhere near Pad 4 but rather to crash safely inside the fort's defences.

Fennec sent more shots to make the explosions believable, and everyone broke the atmosphere. It was only a tense few seconds before Transport 2 and 6 reported the fake hit to the thrusters with an appropriate shot from the Slave One, masking the slightly larger explosions to justify veering off course.

Ties, not surprisingly, were quick to deploy; Boba was put on the back foot quickly. The Slave One was not known for its manoeuvrability in comparison to two squads of TIE fighters (he was only expecting a couple, let alone 2). The TIEs were doing a pincer manoeuvre, letting one squad attack from the far front in a wedge formation, and Fennc pointed out the squad from behind rapidly gaining in a crescent formation.

Concordia did have varied terrain, but for now, they were flying above open plains. Fennec managed to snipe one of the front TIEs with a well-placed shot to the right wing shield, leading to the ship tumbling down to the ground in a fiery explosion.

"Seven to one odds, not bad for a day's work." Sensors picked up the far-off explosion as the survivors must have detonated their bombs. Any remaining TIEs would hopefully be destroyed, leaving the ones on the Star Destroyers.

The crescent squad was still gaining, and Boba had to flip the ship in a semi-barrel roll to dodge the green laser bolts coming his way. "Boss, this isn't looking good," Fennec said. As she rotated the gun backwards to send some shots that way.

"I have a plan," Boba said in a semi-confident tone. "Bantha shit," Fennec retorted. "Just keep them from getting a decent shot, but let them get closer." Fennec rolled her eyes at the absurdity of Boba's request.

She rotated the guns back to the front and zeroed in on the furthest TIE to the right, firing wide once to either side, then once to where the ship would be in rapid succession, preventing horizontal dodge. The Tie had nowhere to go, as the best option would be to either dive down or pull up. Down being the best option, but the pilot didn't think so; they tried to shift right, letting the left wing get tagged before the final shot hit the central pod.

Fennec rotated back and forth, giving herself whiplash, trying to place shots while Boba dodged. Both squads were gaining on them, and the Slave One took a few hits, and the shields were quickly draining.

"BOBA," Fennec yelled. "Whatever you're doing, do it now," she said as the shields took another hit, draining them completely, rocking the Slave One before another hit the hull.

Fennec was firing wildly at the front set of ties as they crept closer into range of what Boba was planning. It clicked in her head, so she let go of the gun controls and grabbed a nearby puke bag, just in case.

Boba activated the thrusters and pulled up sharply, simultaneously letting out a seismic charge. With the shields depleted and Fennec not shooting, all power went to the thrusters, and the ship rotated rapidly and shot upwards.

The TIEs were target-focused and ignored the bomb; they would start pulling up as well to get more shots off on the vulnerable ship, and their speed would cause their arc to be longer, so both squads would overshoot their uptake and re-engage the target.

It was the plan all along for the sound of the seismic charge to reverberate and be accompanied by a few secondary explosions of TIE fighters caught in the wave of concussive blue light.

Boba checked his scanner, and he had managed to snag four of the six remaining TIEs in the blast. For those, the odds were more in his favour.

----------------------------------------------- Cobb POV ------------------------------------------

Cobb's landing was as nasty as he had expected; with everyone braced, it still hurt like hell. He could hear the yells of imperials outside the ship's hull. Cobb looked over the hunters and mercenaries under his command. "Everyone alright?" hearing a few moans and grumbles. Before the ship door opened from the outside.

The imperial engineer popped his head through and was greeted with a shot between the eyes before he could say a word. Cobb saw it was from one of the hunters. "Oh hell," he said.

"Come on, let's get after it," he said, letting the big boys go first. The Vurk went first and got a few shots off before the stream of hunters rushed through the open door. Cobb opened the rear and slipped around the back with Tanti. No stormtroopers yet, but that was a matter of time. With shots ringing in the air, it should be obvious that this was an attack.

Boba told him about the spy, and Cobb understood that it was a reasonable assumption that the Empire would pay one of the hunters or mercenaries off, so technically, Cobb was to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but he would soon be out of his depth. As the alarms started blaring.

The hangar he landed in was mostly empty, so the ties must have launched from here, and hunters began fanning out through the halls to push the advantage. Cobb knew he had to reach the control centre. "Come on, Tanti, let's go."

Chapter Text

Cara Dune, as the experienced ex-rebel droptrooper, now New Republic Ranger, was used to having inept teammates for a mission. From the early days of the rebellion and the surge of recruits that joined after the destruction of Alderann alongside her.

However, this lot of brigands and downright idiots takes the kriffing cake.

Sure, when the shots start flying through the air, 90% of plans go out the window, or in this case, common sense.

The bounty hunters and mercenaries in her transport must be spiced up, for how they are just running wild, ignoring cover and concealment nearby, firing lanes, or communication.

But, kriff, if it's not somewhat effective. SOMEHOW?!

Luckily for Cara, she landed at one of the bases Mayfeld sabotaged and let Mandalorian survivors through, who, despite being dramatically undersupplied and in a seemingly depressing state (clothes tattered, faces gaunt from malnutrition), as always, fought hard.

So the stormtroopers that came to play were getting penetrated in the back door and faced a massive muscle mommy with a big ass gun in the front. She saw the looks two stormtroopers exchanged, contemplating which way to die would be better. Cara would have put them out of their misery if they surrendered, but a Trandoshan appeared out of nowhere and viciously attacked the two with its jaw and claws. Even Cara looked away after hearing the screams.

Letting her custom heavy blaster, that is her standard (absolutely not standard) weapon, go wild, providing covering fire for the Mandalorians, when they were in cover, she dipped down behind a large pile of crates. She looks to her right and is met with a Mandalorian in beskar. He's mostly brown with blue vambraces, and the area around the eyes is outmatched by the claw marks in the helmet and armor. The tattered cloak covers his back while he peeks out to take a few pot shots with his blaster pistol.

He ducked back down, taking a scanning look at Cara, pausing at her tattoos on her arm and face. "Cara Dune, I presume?" He says in a deep voice that portrays a man who has experienced a full life of battle.

"Normally depends on who's asking. What's the code?" she asks. After warning Din about the spy, she is on high alert and would prefer not to be stabbed right now, as she's mid-reload of her blaster and would think it would be an unfortunate way to go (to put it politely, which she is forcing herself to do because a certain Captain Teva doesn't like cursing).

"Grogu is the cutest?" he says with an underlying question in his tone. "Who's Grogu, and why is he the password? Whoever came up with it is an id—" Cara interrupts, "He's Mand'alor Din Djarin's adopted son, and Koska Reeves did."

The man looked like he had short-circuited; Cara only recognized it because she had seen Din do the same thing under his armor many times. The man seemed to reboot. "Captain Torin Vess, formerly of the Protectors of the late Duchess," he says.

"Well met, Torin. Any ideas on how to take this shi— Imphole?" The captain answers by projecting the base from his gauntlet. Cara thought it was interesting that a Mandalorian was not equipped with a weapon on his gauntlet, or at least a shield like Bo-Katan. The projection displayed the stolen plans Mayfeld must have provided. "If we split the forces in two, we can hit here," pointing to an armory, "and here," pointing towards a garage hangar. "If we take the armory, my forces will be finally rearmed after so long, and the garage has one or two ITTs that we can use to evacuate the base and help the other attacks."

Cara glanced at the map layout; the way to the armory had narrow corridors, sharp corners, and intersecting hallways. Ideal for defending, and attackers needed to be proficient with close combat. The way to the hangar was a little more straightforward, designed for quick reaction forces. "If you're underarmed, the armory will be hard, but the reshuffling time after capture will cost us," Cara said before looking round and then leaning in. "Plus, I don't trust these guys not to steal everything that's not bolted down."

The captain looked at the hunters and flinched, where Cara guessed were the corpses of the two stormtroopers. "Agreed. Stick to the current plan, but you fall in with us to go to the armory, and we leave the hangar to this lot." Cara nodded before looking down, smacking her blaster with her hand before banging it on the ground, before the charging noise was heard. "All this time, and I still haven't fixed that," she said before peeking around the corner and letting loose.

The captain relayed the instructions, and with the covering fire between himself and Cara, the two bounded towards the start of the way towards the Armoury.

The narrow hallways were filled with the sound of their boots hitting the floor and the alarms blaring. Two stormtroopers turned the corner up ahead, blasters ready. As Cara raised her heavy blaster, the captain sent six shots from his blaster pistol. Cara watched as it was a standard Mandalore drill: one in the head and two in the chest to ensure the enemy went down and stayed down.

But they couldn't have known about the other stormtroopers around the corner, who peeked at the T intersection from both sides, firing down the hallway. Cara started a large burst to allow the Mandalorians around her to get into cover and start shooting. Over her blaster fire, she yelled at the captain, "I thought the Duchess was a pacifist." He looked at her, and with a glance, she guessed he was doing the standard Mandalorian armored gesture of 'REALLY? NOW?' before turning round the beam he was hiding from, raising his blaster, and shooting a stormtrooper in the head before ducking back.

"She was," he yelled, "but her father wasn't until Death Watch killed her mother." Cara quipped, "Remind me to get Bo-Katan a drink then," before reaching for a grenade on her belt and lobbing it as hard as she could down the hall.

It bounced on the floor a few times before rolling towards the stormtroopers, the ominous beeping increasing rapidly as it got closer and closer towards the Imperials before detonating. Rocking the cavern and knocking multiple stormtroopers down.

The captain ordered two of his Mandalorians forward; they activated their jetpacks and launched themselves forward, pressing their new advantage while the rest sprinted behind them.

"Lady Kryze is alive, then. "That's wonderful," he said. Cara looked at him with a smirk "She's the Mand'alor's fiancée and Grogu's mother." He looked at her, pausing before saying, "May their reign be long and prosperous."

The groaning injured Imperials were gunned down by Torin's Mandalorians. It was not normal procedure for Cara, and she looked at Torin, who shook his head. "Our people suffered… too much at the hands of the imperials. Many under my command watched them hunt their family members and shoot them in the back."

Cara understood; her hatred of Imperials burned as holy fire that would be burning on Alderaan. She killed dozens of Imperials with no mercy during the war, so she could not judge too harshly. "Let's just get to the armory and get your people some guns."

They pressed on, deeper into the belly of the base. The corridors twisted and turned. Sharp right angles funnelled them into chokepoints. Every once in a while, Torin checked the map, informing the group they were getting closer until he called out, "We're approaching the armory now."

At the middle of another T intersection stood the reinforced armory door, locked shut. "Karabast," Cara explained. Torin looked at her and said, "How many more of those grenades have you got?" and she quickly patted herself down to take stock. "One," she answered. She heard one of the two Mandalorians who jumped ahead earlier exclaim, "osik (shit)."

Cara watched Torin look behind him and jump up and down, which was odd. Before detaching his jetpack, "I have a little fuel left in mine; use a small amount around the lip of the door, and the rest can be burnt up in the explosion."

The swearing Mandalorian spoke up. "But, sir," Torin shut him down. "We need you all properly armed. We've been hunting with sharpened sticks for Ka'ra's sake."

He instructed his forces to split into three to watch each corridor, with Cara and himself prepping the door. He pulled out a vibroknife, pierced the left fuel tank, and let the leak pour around the left and right sides of the door, jiggling it a little bit before placing it on the floor. Cara was about to place the explosive when a shot whizzed past her and hit the door. She ducked to the left and glanced at the group of troopers bounding closer to them.

A Mandalorian called out "RIGHT SIDE," and more rounds came from that direction. Cara was about to engage her right before her shoulder took a hit from behind. She grunted in pain before rapidly spinning and laying down rapid fire. Yelling, "LEFT TOO, WE'RE BOXED IN."

Boxed in they were, encroaching stormtroopers from all sides, preventing anyone from getting any actual cover. Cara heard Mandalorians groan in pain as they were shot. "TORIN, WHAT'S THE PLAN?" Cara was never a commander; sure, she came up with good ideas from time to time and had plenty of tactical experience. But she could barely think straight over the sounds of blaster fire and the feeling of her heavy repeating blaster heating up.

She heard Torin yell "OSIK-ING KARK IT ALL" and "DUNE, GIVE ME THE NADE," he yelled, and she reached for it on her belt with her propping arm, creating a break in fire.

She passed it to him, watching him take a round in the leg as he overextended himself to catch it. He slammed and activated the grenade on top of the jetpack before lying down. His back to the door, blood pouring out of him as Cara saw he had more wounds than she thought. He looked at Cara while taking blind shots down the hall; they came from "You're in charge" before yelling "TAKE COVER!"

The shots and bodies did not muffle the beeping of her grenade. He must hear it too, as she watched him look to the sky, and with his final words were.

"FOR MANDALORE!!!!"

The concussion wave roared like twin suns as the grenade detonated. The jetpack’s fuel burst into a blistering fireball that ripped through the door. Metal groaned and flaked outward in a spray of scorched fragments, but the brunt of the pressure slammed into Torin’s beskar, launching him towards the stormtroopers with blood pouring out of his wounds.

When the firestorm collapsed into a screaming vacuum, Torin lay gasping on the floor. Cara was disoriented, firstly from the explosive shockwave but also from watching a potentially good man die. She shook her head. "MANDOS INTO THE ARMORY, GRAB WHAT YOU CAN, AND LET'S AVENGE HIS DEATH."

The surviving mandos cried "OYA" and sprinted into the now open armory. Cara followed suit, wanting to drag Torin's body inside but knowing she would be hit too

Chapter Text

NOT ABANDONED TAKE 2 BOOGALOO

Hey folks, sorry again, I meant to take a day or two off after I finished the assignments last week, but then I got sick, then got better, and IRL shit happened AGAIN, like who knew living life would mean that sometimes unexpected stuff comes up. And now the unfortunate thing is, I have the last batch of assignments due within the next two weeks.

However, Good news on the horizon. Trimester is over at the end of the month, so OCTOBER is on the menu, folks. Never would have thought a Fic I planned to have fully written and published within the month of June should 'hopefully' be finished in October

Sorry, again, everyone. I genuinely want to finish this Fic, I really hate reading brilliant other fics for them to have been abandoned for years and REFUSE to do that

Be back soon