The Quarry

The Quarry - Part 2

Hyperspace was deafeningly quiet. In another life, Din had loved the peace it brought, but now, all he felt was the absence. Grogu had never been very talkative, at least not in ways he understood, but he missed having the kid there. Reaching over to the lever on the far right of the console, he removed the lever cap, spinning the small metal ball loose and allowing it to roll around in his fingers, remembering the joy the one on the Razor Crest had brought the kid during their long trips together.

It had been a few months since the Jedi had come to take the kid, since he'd come into possession of the dark saber. It sat hidden in his hold now, taunting him with the memory. Bo-Katan had refused to take it from him, and her scowl remained in his mind. He had initially assumed it was a pettiness at him having won the saber from Moff Gideon, but now he wasn't certain. He had his creed that he followed, and she had hers, and somehow, him walking off of that Star Destroyer with the dark saber in hand fit in with that. He just wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next.

So he'd gone back to what was familiar. He'd wandered for a while, ultimately winding up back on Nevarro and tracking down Greef Karga for work. Karga had been understanding, quietly noting the absence of the green child that had followed the Mandalorian for the better part of a year but saying nothing about it. Karga knew better than to press Din about anything. They weren't friends, and he wasn't stupid. While there was no longer a guild faction running out of Nevarro, Karga had sent Din in the direction of Tatooine for work with a recommendation to Guild Master Jesar, head of the Tatooine Guild faction, and Din had charged into it without hesitation.

And now, here he was, sitting in the cockpit of a ship that looked an awful lot like the Razor Crest but held none of the memories. It had been what he could afford with the measly amount of credits he still had in his possession, and he was a creature of habit. He'd been stunned to find another gunship of the same make, and had ultimately decided it was fated that he take it. The price didn't hurt either, although he quickly found out he had indeed gotten exactly what he paid for. He had done his best to piece it back together slowly, making it suitable for his work, but it still hadn't felt like home yet. Today had been the closest he'd felt to home in a while, and he suspected it was more due to the quarry sitting in his hold than the ship itself.

He hadn't seen her in decades. His last memory of Versa had been her whispering to him in the night that she was leaving and him begging her not to. They'd grown up together in Aq Vetina, running through the settlement together as their parents scolded them for the mischief that they'd gotten into. She had been the first person he kissed, late one night on a dare in one of the gardens underneath an ashsap tree. He remembered her giggling at him as their noses brushed, the breeze whistling through the leaves.

He'd fallen out of one of those ashsap trees once and still had the scar behind his right ear to prove it. Versa had been so frightened by the wound, which was largely superficial, but children had no way of understanding that. She'd just seen the blood pouring from his head and had panicked. Some of her fear stemmed from concern for him, but he was certain a large portion of it had also been fear that her parents would punish her for shoving him out of the tree in the first place. She hadn't meant to hurt him, but he'd carried the permanent reminder of her throughout his life in the form of a tiny white, raised patch of skin that was mostly hidden in his hairline, tucked just behind the shell of his ear. He'd never given her up, instead telling their parents he had been careless, and his foot had slipped on a branch. She'd stared at him through her tears as he lied for her, a silent gratitude passing between them when he met her eyes. His parents appeared to accept it, but he noticed Versa's mother watching her daughter skeptically throughout his story.

And then the attack had happened. He remembered the explosions and the sound of blasterfire, the smell of smoke and blood in the air. His parents had tucked him into a storage hatch, closing the doors just as a massive explosion rocked the ground around them. Once it was all over, he remembered emerging from his hiding place, a Mandalorian pulling him gently from below ground. He had seen Versa, doubled over the bodies of her parents, screaming. Another Mandalorian had picked her up and taken her, and their lives had changed forever.