Din Djarin/Mando/The Mandalorian: One Shots, Imagines, etc.

Not A Taxi Service

A/N: you meet Din when Peli informs him that you can take him to some Mandalorians

Warnings: swearing, possible wrong star wars content, not spell checked

(Transalations at the bottom because ✨spoilers✨)

Word Count: 1416

You were surprised when you saw him. On Tatooine, of all places - a great place to lay low - so maybe you shouldn't have jumped when you saw that T - shaped visor which you used to be so familiar with, the silver armour which you immediately recognised as beskar, the specific way he walked - confident of himself, of his ability of protecting himself.

Well, not him in particular, but his people.

His Creed.

Peli noticed the way you froze and quickly covered up for you, rapidly rattling something off about how trustworthy you were, and how you knew exactly where you could find others of his kind. You couldn't tear your eyes of him. Peli had warned you before you met him, but then you saw him as he took powerful strides through the hangar, and you remembered all too well that walk, the way everyone stared when you swept past, clad in beskar. You hadn't... You hadn't seen a Mandalorian for so long, and the memories that flashed before you felt like a knife in your heart. You didn't exactly miss them, it, but...

You glance up, feeling Peli's eyes trained on you, as well as the deep black visor of the Mandalorian. 'Uh - I - Yes, I can take you to another Mandalorian, I - I - '

Peli cuts in before you can make a fool of yourself. 'She can take you, but she wants to travel with you to Trask.'

The shining dome of his helmet snaps towards Peli. 'I'm not a taxi service.'

You feel some of the old fire ignite in your belly. 'Do you want to find some of your kind or not, bucket head?'

He takes a minute step back, then grunts. 'Fine, then. Get your things, and let's go.'

~

You wince as the contents of your pack clink metallically together as you swing it onto your shoulder. Trying to walk as smoothly as possible, you hurry to the Mandalorian's ship. He waits by the cargo ramp, arms crossed, and you raise a curious brow when a little green creature pokes its head out from behind his leg and blinks its eyes at you. Almost immediately, you feel a slight probing at your mind, and your walls come up instincively, shoving the strangely old but young mind away from you.

'Uh - '

'He's my child,' the Mandalorian answers shortly.

Peli had told you before that he didn't take his helmet off, that he was a Child of the Watch, and you hate the way you recognise the curt, clipped way he speaks. Adjusting your pack's strap, you smile at the little green child, hoping he wasn't too hurt by your response to his curious probing.

'Okay, well, I'm ready. Let's go.'

You grasp Peli in a quick hug, whispering a quiet thanks in her ear for giving you lodging, before you hurridely follow the Mandalorian up the steps. He glances back to check you're aboard, before closing the ramp. There's a hiss as the ship seals, and then you follow him into the cockpit, grunting as you swing your heavy pack off your shoulder and place it gently on the floor.

Waving down at Peli as the Mandalorian starts up the ship's engines and takes off, you smile down at the woman who was like a mother to you. You'll miss her, but you both knew that sooner or later, you'd leave, out of necessity more than anything else. Huffing a sigh, you glance over at the man in the pilot's chair, watching as the stars reflect on his helmet as the ship breaks through Tatooine's atmosphere. The little bleep that informs the pilot that autopilot is on sounds, and you lean back in the chair, bracing yourself for a long, wordless ride, when a sharp clang sounds through your ears, and you jump, glancing down.

The little green child somehow climbed out of his seat and is now pulling various things out of your bag, probably on a hunt for food. But the smothering silence that fills the hull, different from that of before because both of you seem to be holding your breaths, is not because of that. It's because of the helmet that's rolled out of your bag.

The helmet which very clearly has a T - shaped visor.

The Mandalorian is on his feet, a viroblade in his hand, in seconds. Flinching, you raise your hands to shield yourself, and fear shoots through you, your heart pounding in your ears as you shrink back into your seat. You squeeze your eyes shut. Ever since you... left, you'd hoped you'd never see a viroblade again, but you guess the past never really leaves you.

'Gev!' You cry. 'It's not what it looks like!' You ease your eyes open, and he's in your space, blade still out, and he's close - too close. Panic rushes through you and he goes flying across the cockpit, right back into his seat.

'You - you...?' He says, voice trailing off into confusion. 'Wha - you - you're one of them! The - the Jedi?' His tone turns more demanding. 'Why do you have beskar? Where did you get it?'

You hang your head. 'I'm not a Jedi. Shit, I... I used to be a Mandalorian. I - I - you - please don't be angry, I - it's just hard to explain...'

He crosses his arms, the only movement he can achieve, since he's still pinned to the chair you're keeping him pressed on. 'Well, it's a long way to Trask.'

You watch him critically. No one Mandalorian has asked for your story once they found out you used to be one of them. Normally, it's good if they just give you a disgusted shrug of their shoulders and lean a little further away from you, but this man seems... fascinated. You wonder if he's faking it, wonder if he'll chuck you out into the middle of space, but you release him anyway, sighing and rubbing a hand over your eyes.

'Okay. Okay, uh, so, I used to be in the Clan Kryze, led by Bo - Katan, but then I... I got tired of... I wanted a life where I could walk into a cantina and people don't lower their voices and look at me with fear in their eyes. I - I always hated that about the armour and the helmet.' You chew nervously on your lip, keeping your eyes trained on him, expecting him to recoil away from the coward currently speaking to him. 'I also discovered I could... could manipulate the... Force, or whatever you call it. And... people who can do that haven't always been the bestest of friends with the Mandalorians, and it was the last straw on the bantha's back. I decided to stop... stop following the Way of Mandalore, renounce the Creed, just go back to being normal, but I... I don't think I can ever leave it behind like I... hoped I could.'

He's quiet for a second, then speaks in Mando'a. 'Bic cuyir okay. I... I don't think you're a coward. I think it's... okay to want to fit in.'

Your jaw drops open, and your eyes narrow, searching for a drop of sarcasm in his modulated voice. Thanks to your past, you became very good at reading body language and the tilt of a helmet, and as you watch him, you're not sure if you've lost the talent or if he's actually speaking in earnest. Unsure what to say, you shrug.

'Well, I was planning to go to Trask anyway, once I scraped up the money, so I could return my armour to Bo - Katan. Beskar belongs to real Mandalorians, not... hut'uun, after all.'

The T - shaped visor of his helmet jerks towards you. 'Nutennir laam. Gar mirdir gar're a hut'uun, but you're not. Meh mayen, gar're kotir to listen to your own needs, and act on them.' He jerks his chin at you, and the sound of your old language in your ears brings tears into your eyes as well as the meaning of his words. 'Gar vhisur guuror someone tion'ad knows tion'ad val cuyir.'

You look at him, and a single tear spills over your cheek. 'Vor entye. I... that meant a lot to me. I... I'm sorry I'm crying,' you laugh bitterly, swiping at your face.

'Don't be,' he answers softly.

Your smile wobbles a little, but you feel better than you've felt in what feels like years. 'I guess you're really not just a taxi service. You're a lot more than that.'

Transalations:
gev = stop
bic cuyir = it is
hut'uun = coward (s)
nutennir laam = shut up
gar mirdir gar're a hut'uun = you think you're a coward
meh mayen, gar're kotir = if anything, you're brave
gar vhisur guuror someone tion'ad knows tion'ad val cuyir = you seem like someone who knows who they are
vor entye = thank you