Chapter Twenty-Three: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊.
word count; 9.5k
note: i apologize for the prolonged wait on this one! it's a long one... i promse this is as long as i'll ever go! 😂 i'm actually really glad i split this one from the previous chapter. also, due to its lengthiness, i'm completely certain there's a fair share of errors and misspelled words. it was definitely a pain to edit so i doubt i've gotten them all! either way, i hope you enjoy this one.
Each stride deeper into the sultry sewers were absolutely agonizing, even despite Cara directly by your side and assisting you to continue forward. Several prolonged, wearying minutes had already flown by while your team wandered aimlessly through these damned tunnels, searching for the said Mandalorian covert Din had urged you to visit. The entire place was a kriffing maze you failed to navigate, and that exasperated you to the core.
Your steps were rather slow and drawn out. Still, with each second that ticked by, you attempted to pick up the pace slightly. With one arm slung around the woman who supported you, the other clutched tightly and firmly around your torso, as if that would cause the insistent searing pain there to miraculously cease. According to Cara, all those desperate attempts to revive you had resulted in cracking a couple ribs. You had no idea that was possible, actually—it had surprised you significantly.
And there was that sealed off wound in the center of your chest. The fact that its bleeding halted didn't impede it from stinging and irritating you to no end. The IG unit's useful bacta spray had proved extremely helpful in aiding the gash to clot and begin the healing process earlier than usual, though.
Still, your mind couldn't quite comprehend the fact that you'd managed to survive a blaster bolt straight through a lethal and vulnerable spot—your chest. Sure, the armor was (thankfully) present and prevented further injury from the harsh impact the bullet caused. But it'd been so damn close to your heart—it was a miracle you were alive right now.
Not only that, but your muscles ached like the seven Corellian hells, exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm your every sense and action, and your back was unbearably sore from... well, you'd been sent soaring backwards twice, and landed harshly on your back... twice.
To add to that, everything that recently occurred to you was still perfectly present on your mind, replaying over and over again countless times, as if your brain wanted to torture you with memories you now longed to forget as soon as possible. That suffocating sensation of being utterly incapable of forming the slightest breath, your nose swamped by the metallic scent of blood, feeling the tepid liquid pool up in your throat until the only thing you tasted was, again, blood, already beginning to drown you, and being entirely helpless to act or do anything except accept the fact that you were going to suffer an abhorrent death... That was appalling.
Yet somehow... that wasn't the worst of it. It wasn't simply the gashes and trauma you'd received from that debilitating battle that was overwhelming you. No... the worst part was having no other choice than to leave Din to his own death. You were quite literally dead already, and Din was still somewhat stable and conscious. Yet you couldn't so much as save him?! Perhaps if the team hadn't focused on resuscitating you for so damn long, then they could've trained their attention on Din instead... and he could've lived.
But no. Now you needed to deal with these emotions you so desperately attempted to contain within a fragile little bottle and shove it aside, out of your sight, out of your mind. You needed to comply with the fact that you were brought back to life, compelled to watch the Mandalorian you'd admittedly grown attached to slip away into his own death, and leave him, unable to act against the situation, lacking the capability to salvage his life no matter how hard you tried .. and once again, you were entirely helpless.
And on top of all that, there was still something you were forced to handle—that you'd been a damned coward. That you couldn't even muster up the courage to voice those simple words then and there, right to Din's face—the words that could've possibly—
"We sure could use Mando's guidance right about now," Karga muttered underneath his breath, precisely loud enough for you and Cara to hear. In the bag you'd handed over to him was the Child, who was thankfully already beginning to wake from the little nap he'd taken out of sheer tiredness earlier.
"I know, which is why IG better bring him back," Cara replied. Her gaze shifted from pointlessly wandering around the tunnels, to you concentrate on your weak form instead. "You still feeling alright?"
Your chest heaved with a deep sigh, resulting in a barely audible wince at the sudden motion near your wound. "Yeah... I think so," you answered rather quietly. A beat of silence past then, when the sole sound audible were your consistent footsteps reverberating through the otherwise noiseless sewer. Then, "By the way... thank you for... all that earlier. For saving my life."
Her response was a nod. "Yeah, that wasn't easy... so, you definitely owe me one now."
Albeit weak, you managed a halfhearted chuckle at that, before another bout of quietness followed.
Then, "You know, when you were unconscious, Mando told me about how you couldn't die... because he loves you."
Your breath hitched in your throat before you swallowed a painful lump beginning to form. You weren't exactly certain whether you wanted to hear that now or not... Either way, that earned a ghost of a smile starting to linger on your chapped lips. "He did..?"
"Mhm, and I knew it for a long time, too. He's just stupid and stubborn."
If it were your old self, before all this occurred, you likely would've laughed and agreed along with her correct statement. But instead you felt the impulse to to say something... a whisper, nearly silent, yet still there—"I also loved him..."
That earned a completely unexpected scoff from the woman. You peered over to focus on her face, noticing her expression read nothing other then come on, really?. "What is it with you guys confessing that to me? Is it that difficult to say it right in front of each other's faces?"
"It's because they're both stupid and stubborn," Karga joined in, his shoulders vibrating with soft laughter.
"I'm glad you're finding amusement in this," you replied with a brief roll of your eyes. Despite your heavy emotions, you managed a bout of soft laughter.
Cara, shaking her head, answered with, "Well, Mando and IG-11 should be catching up with us soon enough. By then, I should be hearing a couple I love you's from you guys... just as long as you don't start up a gross make-out session while you do."
You managed another chuckle, despite the ache that brought to the gash in the middle of your chest. Cara was simply attempting to cheer you up and distract you from everything going on, of course... divert your overly pensive thoughts from the fact that you may or may not ever see Din again. That you had refused to take advantage of the opportunity to voice your own I love you in front of him. That you'd probably never have the chance to do so again...
What if... what if he were suffering right now? What if in this very moment he was slowly burning to his death, in agony due to the intense heat overwhelming him, enduring a long, grueling, hellish death he didn't deserve. Or what if he were already dead..? What if he'd already passed away? There was an agonizingly empty pit in your stomach, a particular ache in your chest that you doubted was an effect of your wound, and—
Oh. Speak of the devil...
The approaching footsteps from behind had alarmed everyone. But when your group cautiously turned, spotting Din alongside IG-11 rounding a corner, you couldn't help but smile. Smiled despite the immense pain and agony you were under, because you could finally sigh a breath of relief now knowing your Mandalorian was alright. He was alive. You imagined this must've been how he felt when you'd been revived minutes previously.
The poor man, much like you, could barely walk and required the back-up of someone to aid him forward. Luckily, IG-11 was right by his side and aiding him forward as well. Even with the droid besides him, though, Din's steps were short, slow, and slightly dragged along the flooring of the sewers. He no longer carried the usual stance you'd grown accustomed to seeing—instead, his shoulders were visibly slumped, head hanging low likely due to the exhaustion he was under as well.
Your immediate desire was to bring him into an embrace, but... that probably wasn't a such a great idea at the moment. Two injured people wouldn't be capable of keeping each other upright... So, you'd both evidently collapse to the ground attempting to hug each other.
Cara and Karga would definitely find humor in watching that occur, though.
But there was absolutely no time to greet each other, or for hugs, or whatever... you needed to continue forward, until you located the Mandalorian covert. That was the top-priority—find the hidden Mandalorians so they could lead your group to safety. At least now, Din could possibly guide you guys through the tunnel, if he wasn't still excessively disoriented by his concussion.
⇢⇢⇢
"Can we take a short break?"
Your question rung out through the empty sewers, interrupting the prolonged moments of silence as your group wandered aimlessly through the dark tunnels.
The humidity was absolutely killing you here. If the surface had supposedly been excessively warm for your liking, being entrapped in these underground sewers wasn't exactly helpful either. Plus, there was barely sufficient lighting provided for enough illumination through these never-ending paths. Even a person who didn't suffer from claustrophobia would definitely begin feeling a bit claustrophobic themselves.
Not only that, but you were absolutely worn-out from everything. A break would do you some good.
"We need to keep going," Cara replied, her arm still slung around you to support your debitated figure. "We can't risk the Imps catching up. I'm sure they're already searching these sewers for us."
"It's fine," Din voiced. With each passing second, you noticed he was seemingly improving already. "We can manage a five minute break."
With a reluctant sigh, Cara complied. The group halted their tracks for a well-deserved rest. Cara assisted you, positioning you down in the ground with your aching back propped up against a wall behind you. Then, she'd swiftly stepped away to discuss something with the crew.
You called for the Guild magistrate's attention, then. He turned, sack still in his arms as he stared towards your direction once he'd heard his name. Then, you outstretched a hand. "Can I see the kid?"
The man nodded, uttering a quick "of course" before stepping towards you and settling the bag containing the Child in your lap, before returning to the team again. For some unknown reason, they were all huddled together, exchanging various unintelligible words between each other. Admittedly, their hushed voices made you suspect something was going on with their strange actions, but... you decided to shove that aside, because you had the Child now! You missed him so krfiffing much.
The green baby, already wide-awake, perked his ears upon catching sight of you. He flashed those baby teeth at you, earning a soft grin from your own lips. "I'm sorry, ad'ika... I broke my promise, didn't I?" A coo was the response you received, followed by multiple gurgles—as if he were actually attempting to speak with you. You chuckled softly, before releasing a short sigh.
"Well, I wish I could say I promise it won't happen again, but... I think we both know that's not possible—especially after all this happened... But don't worry. When we get back to the ship and rest for a while, I'll play all the games you want and... if we convince Din, we can drop by Nata and buy those sweets you wanted so badly back then, remember?" You laughed at the memory. "Sound good?"
He giggled. Aww... you missed that adorable little giggle.
Something else caught your attention, though. Out of all those hushes and whispers nearby, IG-11's mechanical voice popped out loud and clear—"I am afraid I am not quite understanding the situation here. Why are you attempting to convince the Mandalo—"
"Shut. Up. Droid!"
After Cara had shut the droid up, you attempted to listen in, because... well, you were curious now. Seemed like they didn't want you to hear something— you had no clue. And you couldn't quite interpret their words through their lips either... you'd never learned how. But now you were beginning to wish you'd acquired that skill in the past.
Cara and Karga were specifically speaking to the Mandalorian—according to the droid, attempting to coax him into doing something without much luck, which was unfortunate for them. They seemed downright determined into convincing him, though. Din, with his back turned against you, had his arm crossed in what seemed like a stubborn, I'm-not-budging-from-here manner. Apparently, he was now fully capable of standing on his own without the assistance of IG-11, who stood idly and even seemed somewhat confused as he watched the scenario fold out.
Even through their barely audible voices, you managed to pick out a few particular words. First, was Din—"I'm not—"
"Will you quit—" Karga was next. You couldn't quite hear the following words, either. Then, Din had received a shove from the Guild magistrate, resulting in his somewhat unstable body to stumble back a few abrupt steps, towards your direction. "Go!" was the next whisper-shout from the man.
When Din was beginning to turn around, you returned your attention to the Child again, attempting your very best to pretend you hadn't seen... whatever the hell that was.
A few seconds later, Din settled himself down besides you. Your eyes caught the rest of the team as they sorta... scattered? They were acting extremely suspicious. But now with Din next to you, your mind wandered someplace else instead—for instance, how sorta tense things were between you... You weren't quite certain how to feel in this very moment. It was kinda embarrassing and awkward after that rather emotional moment back then, when you both initially believed you'd never see each other again.
It was painfully silent then. Din hadn't uttered a single word, so you released a barely audible sigh and finally decided to speak up. "You feeling better now?"
"Sorta," he replied. "I can walk, at least... You?"
"I think I can walk but haven't tried yet... but, uh, these fractured ribs are killing me." A free hand wrapped around your torso again, as if that would provide any alleviation to the pestering ache there. The other arm remained taut around the sack containing the Child, who seemed pleased to be able to spend some time with you and Din now.
He stared at you for a split second, helmet inclined to the right. Then, "Nothing a couple bacta treatments won't fix."
You pressed your lips into a thin line, nodding in agreement.
Then there was a silence... again. A terribly uncomfortable silence that made you want to do nothing other than sink yourself deep into the floor this instant.
So, you opted to cut right to something that was tugging painfully at your chest—"I'm sorry for leaving you."
"No. You did what had to be done." His voice was gentle and quiet even through the voice modulator. Somehow, his words were reassuring you without you even realizing. "I told you to leave. You don't need to apologize for that." There was another short bout of quietness that followed, before this time he spoke up again. "...what happened out there? I couldn't see, I... was unconscious."
The thought of what you'd done pained you to no end. The way you'd utilized those ancient powers, solely because you were angry—exactly why your master had warned you in the first place. You feared that if that occurred again, you wouldn't be capable of controlling your actions, that you'd fall into the darkness... and that was the last thing you wanted to do. Especially not now, not near the Child, not near Din. They didn't deserve to see how terrifying that could be.
"I used the Force," you finally answered after a moments of hesitation.
He didn't respond for a moment, likely taking in the information. He obviously didn't have much knowledge on that matter. And the last time you'd provided him with a bit of information on your using the Force was back on Arvala, when you'd explained why you , as a former Jedi, refrained from doing so.
"I thought you'd stopped using it."
"I did. I hadn't used for... for over 20 years, I think. But when I saw you laying there on the ground without moving, and the troopers wouldn't stop shooting at Karga and Cara trying to get you out of there... I couldn't control myself. I killed so many troopers. I was so angry, I scared even myself... I froze in my spot, and next thing I know one of the stormtroopers shoots me straight in the chest with the E-Web."
"You didn't have to do that," he quickly answered, a certain anger audible in his tone. Though you suspected the anger wasn't directed towards you, instead towards him. He was undoubtedly blaming himself for what occurred to you. "You could've died, and it would've been my fau—"
"No, I had to do it. Or else you would've died, and I couldn't allow that... Y-you're important to me, Din. I couldn't let you die, and I couldn't leave you, I... Din, I—"
Your words were interfered with when he'd pulled out a particular lightsaber into the open—your lightsaber, of course. Apparently, it'd been hooked to his belt the entire time yet you'd failed to even notice it. You recognized the familiar hilt held freely in his gloved palm, and it was actually rather relieving to see. It somewhat brought some comfort, but...
"I found it in the rubble, about to be set on fire."
...were you really worthy of this weapon after everything you'd done?
You were about to speak, until IG-11 decided to interfere. "I believe it is best we continue before the Moff catches up with us." That earned a couple of frustrated groans from Cara and Karga who still stood a few feet away. The group approached you, and IG outstretched his metal claws to grab onto the bag on your lap. "I will take the Child for now."
You nodded, allowing the droid to take the bag. Then, your attention returned to the lightsaber still in Din's grasp. There was a split second of hesitation, but you ended up snatching it and attaching it to your waist anyway. "Thanks for bringing it back."
With a nod, Din stood onto his feet, outstretched a hand towards your direction. You clasped your hand onto his own gloved one, pulling yourself upright with his assistance, despite the pain that coursed through your torso again. You winced, a grimace present on your features, but managed to remain on your feet.
"Can you stand alright?" Din asked. You thought so, but tested it out before-hand. You exchanged your weight between both feet, double and triple-checking for any signs of weakness, light-headedness, anything.
But you found you were somewhat okay. "Yeah. I can stand now."
Upon hearing your response, he released his hold on your hand. As your fingers slipped away from each others, you found yourself seeking the warmth of his hand again, but... you weren't quite certain whether that would be appropriate right now. It was rather confusing as to where you and Din were at—you definitely hadn't solved out your issues quite yet, but you also weren't arguing like previously...
Still, you wanted to hold his hand... Was that too much to ask for?
You simply weren't sure whether he'd allow that or not. So, instead you shook the thoughts out of your head. Then, as you gazed into the visor staring down at you, you spoke up, "Do you by any chance know which way to go?"
"No, I don't know these tunnels," he explained, stepping away as he lifted a finger to the side of his helmet, switching on a miniature flashlight that provided plenty more visibility in the darkness of these sewers. "I've only entered from the bazaar."
"Well—" Karga stepped in alongside IG and Cara. "—if we get the smell of sulfur, and we follow it, it'll leas us to the plains where the river flows."
Din denied the idea with a shake of his head. "And the Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety."
"Ugh." Cara's eyes darted around the tunnels, searching for a sign of some alternative exit. She crossed her arms over her chest. Then, "This place is a maze..."
"I'll try to find tracks," Din stated. When he raised another finger to the beskar covering his head again, you assumed he'd activated the heat-seeking setting which would undoubtedly make locating this covert easier. For a split second, his visor trailed along the grimy flooring of the sewers, slowly and carefully so as to not miss the slightest sign. Then, he pointed a finger towards a specific point in the distance and followed it. "We're close."
The rest of the group trailed close behind the Mandalorian as he took the lead. At least now, you weren't in excessive pain. The wound was actually feeling much better, thanks to the bacta spray IG-11 supplied you with. Your ribs, though... well, that didn't change. And you doubted it'd change anytime soon. These sort of injuries definitely took prolonged amounts of time to completely heal, much to your dismay.
Surprisingly, you guys were already in near proximity to the cover. A couple corners rounded, and you'd arrived, according to Din. The eery silence was overwhelming you, though... and not just that but it was also so damn dull, dark, and lifeless. While you'd never visited this Mandalorian covert (or any of their coverts for that matter), you had a feeling they weren't originally this... dead.
And dead, literally. Because there was a substantially large pile of beskar armor, which presumably belonged to Mandalorians in the past, who'd quite possibly... passed away. Various helmets and pieces of armor were all cluttered together on the dusty flooring of the covert, most of them damaged, destroyed, unable to be utilized ever again. An awful pit in your stomach developed at the mere thought of what abhorrent difficulties these particular Mandalorians must've endured for this indestructible steel to crack and dent like that.
Your eyes ended up wandering towards Din instead. You could tell by the way he held his shoulders now, and the heavy heaves of his breath as he attempted to contain himself, that his blood was absolutely boiling within him. But altogether, his head hung slightly lower than usual, indicating the despair he was feeling in this very moment.
As he approached the mound, he switched the flashlight feature off from his helmet. Slowly, he crouched, before carefully taking one of the helmets in his gloved hands. He seemed... mournful, as he stared down into the empty visor in his grasp. The aching be must've felt deep within his chest, pushing painfully down in him, was unfathomable... What if he recognized that helmet? What if that specific person had been one of his closest friends? What if he could recognize every single helmet in that stack of beskar?
You recognized those feelings completely well. It left you feeling sick. Finding out that the entirety of the Jedi Order had been wiped out during Order 66... that destroyed you. Even though you hadn't interacted with your fellow Jedi acquaintances in ages, it absolutely broke you, and you remained in a nasty pit of utter unhappiness and anguish for what felt like an eternity.
Only, you figured Din had it worse, because at least you were able to say your final goodbyes. At least you knew that you'd quite possibly never see the people you'd grown attached to again. But Din? You highly doubted he knew what he was doing back then. He didn't have the knowledge of what could possibly occur—whether he'd see the Mandalorians again or not. And now here he was, staring down at the literal remnants of his past companions right in front of his eyes.
You allowed him a brief moment for himself, before taking hesitant steps towards him and placing a palm on his pauldron. "I'm really sorry, Din..."
"Go and take the ship," he suggested, evidently attempting to conceal his emotions. "I can't leave it this way."
You shook your head in response—a noiseless refusal. You definitely weren't going to leave him a second time today. So, you remained silent, in hopes of him having the chance to think this decision thoroughly, instead of making a quick and haste one. You stepped back. And for what seemed like an eternity, Din stared into that dark, emotionless visor without uttering a single word. Then, he craned his neck around and faced Greef Karga who stood a few feet away. "Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?"
"No. When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is." Karga paused for a moment. You watched as Din's grip gradually tightened onto the sides of the helmet in his hands, proving the fury he was beginning to fail to prevent from breaking out. "They're mercenaries! They're not zealots."
Din whirled around, menacingly approaching the magistrate as he lifted a finger pointedly at his chest. You'd never seen so much rage radiate from him before. And the worst part was, you also recognized exactly how he was feeling—unable to contain that anger from lashing out... It sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine.
"Did you do this?!" The Mandalorian growled, his wrath dominated his every action. "Did you?!"
"No!"
"Stop!"
The distinctly feminine voice caught you off-guard, breaking off the fight on the verge of commencing. You'd nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw a figure emerge from a separate entrance, which seemingly led deeper into the covert. The stranger, now that you realized, was another Mandalorian. Her style was rather distinct in comparison to Din's, actually. There were also additional details on her helmet—golden instead of silver, differently shaped visor, a couple pairs of horns on the very top. The beskar plating her chest was painted a brownish-red color, and a nice coat of fur hung down her back, barely reaching her mid-back.
Well, at least there was still one more remaining... perhaps the rest were simply hiding?
"It was not his fault," the female Mandalorian continued, stepping towards the pile of armor on the ground along with a hovercart. "We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the covert..." She outstretched a gloved hand, pulling out a piece of armor from the stack—a cuirass, you recognized. She set it down on her hovercart, before returning to probe around for other specific pieces. "The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted."
Din was the first to speak up. "Did any survive?"
"I hope so," she replied while simultaneously inspecting the cart besides her. "Some may have escaped off-world."
Din paused for a quick moment, seemingly weighing out his options. Then, "Come with us."
"No. I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains." Her answer was determined, which likely meant she wouldn't budge from this place anytime soon. She grabbed another helmet from the mound, placing it into her cart as well and adding it to the armor she'd collected.
While she pushed her full hovercart along with her, everyone else followed her into a separate room. A sudden heat prickled your skin as you entered. Your eyes darted everywhere among the unfamiliar scenario, before ultimately landing on what seemed to be a forge in the middle of it all. As you caught up with Din who had advanced a few paces ahead of you, you whispered, "Who is she?"
"The armorer," he informed as your group stepped further inside. "She forges our beskar into armor."
The golden Mandalorian ahead was already beginning to melt down a couple pieces of armor into the smoldering fire with a pair of tools in her hands. As she worked on placing the scraps of steal within it, she spoke up, "Show me the one who's safety deemed such destruction."
Everyone's eyes landed on IG-11, who still carried the bag within his grasp. "This is the one," Din replied, gesturing towards the Child positioned snugly within the brown sack.
"This is the one that you hunted, then saved?"
"Yes. The one that saved me as well."
"From the Mudhorn? It was them?" The Armorer inquired, a slight disbelief audible in her modulated voice. You couldn't blame her. When she heard the confirmation from Din, she continued, "But it looks helpless!"
As the Child listened into the conversation, he released a couple soft prattles every now and then.
"It's injured, but it's not helpless," Din explained. "Its species can move objects with its mind."
"I know of such things... The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great—" she paused for a brief second as she continued working on the pieces of metal sizzling in the burner. "—and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers."
Din undoubtedly recognized parts of the Jedi thing, as you'd informed him in the past. Still, there was a question that was circling around both your brains for a while now—"What is it, then?"
"It is a foundling," she responded to Din's question, all the while stepping away from the forge now that she'd finished up there. She approached what seemed like a closet, and opened it up, revealing unidentifiable objects within it. Then, "By Creed, it is in your care."
Din raised a finger towards the baby a few feet away. "You want me to train this thing?"
You nearly scoffed. This thing? Well, this thing also happens to be the baby you've been treating as your own son for the past few months...
"It is too weak. It would die. You have no choice. You must reunite it with its own kind."
That... there may be a problem with that. There weren't any Jedi yet. There was you, but... you weren't exactly a Jedi. Plus, you were in no position to so much as train him.
"Where?"
"This, you must determine."
"I'm sorry, I don't think you understand," you finally spoke up. "The Jedi are dead. There isn't a single one remaining in this galaxy."
"That you know of."
You cocked a brow. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just as the Mandalorians from this very covert were forced off-world to conceal themselves, a Jedi or two could very well be hiding somewhere amongst the galaxy. I'm certain that, with help, you'll be able to locate one."
Well... you actually hadn't thought of that. It seemed quite plausible now that you thought of it, actually.
"So, you expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?"
Din's question had caused the Armorer to divert her focus from her work, towards him instead. Then, "This is the Way."
"Hey," Cara called out for the group's attention while the Armorer hammered on a scrap of beskar. "These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan."
"If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream towards the lava flats," the Armorer suggested.
"That's perfect," you answered. "We need to go now or else we'll be facing a ton more troopers pretty soon. I'm sure they know where the covert is."
"I'm staying," Din stated, earning a really? look from you. "I need to help her and I need to heal."
"You must go," the golden Mandalorian urged. "A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father."
Oh, damn... That's actually a pretty big responsibility.
Din shared a quick glance with the baby, who only cooed in response to him, his long ears all perked up as if he understood what the Armorer said.
"This is the Way," the Armorer repeated. She shifted her attention from what she was working on, to Din instead. "You have earned your signet." As she stepped towards him with various tools in her grasps, Din allowed her to adjust the paulsrob on his right shoulder. Within a few seconds, she'd welded what you assumed was his brand-new signet on the steel.
"You are a clan of two," she voiced, only pausing when her dark visor moved to focus on you. "Three, perhaps. If that is what you'd like."
Um... was that some sort of invitation?
This was funny to you, actually. Just as Din was utterly clueless about the Jedi, you were equally as clueless as him when it came to Mandalorians.
Din didn't speak about the clan matter, though. Instead, he stared down towards his shoulder, examining the new design—a silver Mudhorn embellishing the beskar. "Thank you. I will wear this with honor."
You liked it, actually. Nice little upgrade.
Before anybody else could speak, a muffled explosion in the distance startled everyone in the room. You grimaced, shifting your weight uneasily on your feet. It was time to leave, for everyone's safety. Who knows how many stormtroopers were out searching for you guys. You could very well be outnumbered once again—and you definitely didn't want to undergo another battle such as the previous one.
"We should go," Karga voiced your exact thoughts.
The Armorer stepped away for a second, seemingly probing around for one specific object in the room while simultaneously speaking to IG-11. "IG, please guard the outer hallway. A scouting party draws near."
"Will do." The droid's thin head focused on you as he drew nearer, and outstretched the sack containing the Child towards you. "Take care of the Child, please."
You nodded, immediately welcoming the bag into your arms, feeling content at having the baby close to you again. You offered him a small smile, and he returned it in response. All the while, the IG unit walked off and exit the room, headed towards the outer hallway the Armorer had ordered him to protect.
"I have one more gift for your journey," the Armorer continued, her statement directed towards Din. "Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix."
Din bobbed his head in approval. "When I was a boy, yes."
"Then—" she brought out what seemed like a... jetpack, out into the open and presented it in front of Din. "—this will make you complete."
Well, it's about time. You recalled when you'd initially partnered with Din, he'd stated how much he'd wanted a jetpack of his own, just as many other Mandalorians owned one. Definitely a useful addition to his equipment. Perhaps one day he'd even allow you to use it..? There certainly was no shame in asking.
"Thank you." Din must've been smiling underneath that visor of his as he stared at his new gear—first he'd earned his signet, and now his much-deserved jetpack! Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all... well, besides the near-death experiences.
The Armorer continued her explanation. "When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands."
"I understand."
The sound of dangerously near blaster fire snatched everyone's attention. Red streaks were visible just outside the exit of the forge room. Your hand found itself involuntarily sliding down towards your holster, and upon realizing it lacked the usual weapon, your fingers snaked around the hilt of your lightsaber instead. Yet the painful memory of what occurred previously still nicked at the back of your mind.
Then, a terrible silence subdued the ambience. Seconds later, the robotic figure of IG-11 appeared by the entrance, his mechanical claws holding a couple of blasters within them. "You are protected," came his emotionless voice.
You kriffing loved that droid.
"More will come. You must go," the Armorer urged again. Din, though, denied this idea once more.
"Come with us."
"My place is here. Restock your munitions," she gestured towards a box a few feet away.
Finally giving in and accepting the fact that the Armorer was downright determined to remain here, he nodded and stepped away to resupply himself of the equipment he was lacking since the fight earlier.
"IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it," the female Mandalorian handed the silver jetpack towards the droid, who took it into his own grasps. "Now, go! Down to the riger and across the plains. Be safe on your journey."
There was a split second of eye contact between you and the Armorer. You nodded in acknowledgement, before soon after trailing off behind the rest of your group who'd listened to her urgent commands already. Behind you, you heard a quick "thank you" from Din again, before you felt his presence right behind you short.
⇢⇢⇢
"This is the lava river," Karga stated once you'd finally came upon said river.
You'd complained about how warm it previously was in the tunnels, but honestly? The tunnels felt chilly in comparison to here. The steaming lava bubbled up and radiated such intense heat, that you were already beginning to feel the beads of salty sweat form on the sides of your forehead. It was unbearably hot here, but at least all this would be over soon enough. Up ahead, was a ferry boat, equipped with an astromech within it. The droid didn't seem to be fully functional, though... Well, it didn't seem functional whatsoever.
"The ferry droid is fried," Din noted, voicing your precise thoughts.
"Yeah, but if we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream," Karga suggested, taking a step towards the boat. "Come on."
"Looks old." Din approached the vehicle as well. "Will it take the heat?"
"You got a better idea?"
The Mandalorian paused, seemingly calculating his other options. Then, "Guess not."
They grunted as they put in their utmost effort to shove the boat away. The damned thing wouldn't budge an inch, seemingly glued to the wall besides it. You recognized that with how weak Din was undoubtedly feeling right now, they wouldn't be capable of moving that boat. You would've offered some assistance, but with your own debilitated state and painfully broken ribcage, you definitely weren't going to even attempt that. Instead, you shared a glance with the Child in the bag you carried, who merely switched his attention from the men, and back to you multiple times. You only shrugged your shoulders as you returned to watching Din and Karga.
Eventually, though, Din gave in and kicked the vehicle with the immense frustration he was under. "Come on!" Karga shouted. "What're you doing?!"
Din stepped away, and grabbed what seemed like a random pole positioned against a nearby wall. Rather convenient, actually. "Let's try this," Din suggested, giving it another attempt with the stick. No amounts of effort or strength would peel the boat away from the wall, much to everybody's dismay.
"You guys mind stepping out of the way?"
"Oh!" Karga nearly jumped out of his skin when Cara, dangerously close to the man, began firing towards the barrier with her automatic.
And, surprisingly enough, that did the trick. How come that didn't work back at the cantina, when you were in dire need of an escape?
Only then was everyone allowed to board the boat. "Watch your feet," IG-11 warned. "It's molten lava."
"Oh?" You cocked a brow towards the IG unit's direction, carefully stepping inside the vehicle. "I didn't know. Thanks for telling me, though."
As soon as everyone had boarded the boat, it started moving along with the natural flow of the lava. Which was great, because you had no clue what your following actions would be if you needed to somehow row yourselves forward.
You stared down towards the unbearably heated molten lava below, watching as it occasionally bubbled up and burst from its bubble. This was actually beginning to cause a certain anxiety to overwhelm your emotions. Who knew how old this thing was, and how long it'd be capable of remaining functional over the lava without melting from the intense heat? You sure as hell hoped the damned thing wouldn't decide it wasn't lava-proof anymore and start liquefying, leading to your entire crew's death.
A series of beeping and whirring was what had snatched you out of those thoughts. Everyone whirled around suddenly, catching sight of the supposedly dysfunctional astromech droid. Din was the first and only one to reveal his blaster, pointing it towards the droid as it came to life. Its head swung around, examining its guests as well as its surroundings. Apparently, this one had limbs... and it stood tall. Even taller than anyone else on the boat. Its mechanical hands grasped tightly onto a stick, presumably utilized to row the boat towards its designated direction.
Your eyes landed on the IG unit besides you. "Does anyone happen to speak droid here?"
"I believe he is asking where we would like to go," IG explained.
"Down river," Karga replied. "To the lava flat."
The astromech chirped in its binary language, presumably meaning his approved of your commands. His long arms gripped tightly around the stick, bringing it out and sinking it down into the lava. It sizzled and sputtered along the way, though whatever kind of material it was created by prevented it from melting. So, as the droid continued rowing the vehicle downstream, you were already beginning to catch a glimpse of daylight—an opening up ahead, meaning the exit was thankfully nearby.
"That's it!" Karga gestured towards the source of light just up ahead. "We're free."
Finally. You couldn't contain the alleviated smile on your lips, feeling that sense of relief wash over you like a tidal wave—
"No. No, we're not. Stormtroopers. They're flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we're coming."
—only for it to be ruined by Din.
Damn it. "Stop the boat," you commanded the astromech, strict urgency audible in your voice.
The droid, though, continued with its insistent rowing.
"Hey, droid, stop the boat!" Cara joined in.
It continued, almost as if it were... ignoring you.
You growled. A mere five seconds with this droid and it was already beginning to test your patience. Now you were starting to understand the hatred Din had for these mechanical beings. If only you had a weapon—not your lightsaber, definitely not that—maybe your blaster... oh, you missed your blaster—
Welp. There went the droid—its head blasted off by none other than the Alderaanian woman besides you. You allowed a smirk sneaking onto your lips—a silent thank you for doing what was deemed urgently necessary.
Nevertheless, the boat continued forward.
"We're still moving..." Karga noted, unease perfectly visible on his expression.
"Looks like we fight," Cara stated, already beginning to prepare her weapons.
Din shook his head. "There are too many."
"Then, what do you suggest? 'Cause I can't surrender."
You nodded in agreement with Cara. "Yeah, me either. I just spent hours trapped in a sewer. I'm not about to be trapped by some Imps again. There's gotta be another way out."
The IG unit poked in, his mechanical voice a stark contrast from the rest. "They will not be satisfied with anything less than the Child... This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape."
Immediately, Din denied that idea. "You don't have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn't even get to daylight."
"That is not my objective."
"We're getting close. Saddle up!" Cara spoke up, reminding you of how dangerously near the boat was to approaching the opening ahead.
IG-11, though, continued insistently with his plans. "I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct."
Your brows furrowed with evident confusion. "Droid, what do you mean?"
"I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed."
Karga didn't allow you to dwell on the droid's statement—"Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?!"
"I can no longer carry this for you." The droid set the jetpack in his metal grasp down onto the boat's flooring. Then, he straightened up. "Nor can I watch over the Child."
"Wait," Din halted him before he could continue any further with his crazy ideas. "You can't self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the Child. That supersedes your manufacturer's protocol, right? Right?"
Well, if you weren't mistaken... it seemed Din was already beginning to grow attached to the IG unit. And he had reason to do so, actually. After all, the droid proved quite useful in the kitchen and whipped up a couple delicious meals back on the Crest, as well as a wonderful nurse and babysitter for the baby... Oh, and not to mention he literally saved you and Din from dying.
"This is correct."
"Good. Now, grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out." Din slipped his own blaster from his holster, preparing it for the inevitable fight in the very near future. His visor focused on the rapidly nearing opening in the distance.
"Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The Child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the Child is saved, in which I survive."
Din whirled around to face the droid again. "Listen, you're not going anywhere. We need you... Let's just come up with a—"
"Please tell me the Child will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command."
"No, IG..." you shook your head. "You'll be destroyed."
"And you will live, and I will have survived my purpose."
Din's visor trailed down, fixating on no specific point. "No... We need you."
"There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive."
His gaze returned to the droid. "I'm not... sad."
"Yes, you are. I'm a nurse droid. I've analyzed your voice."
You nudged the Mandalorian with your shoulder. "Yeah, I think... I think you just may be a bit sad."
Din couldn't will himself to reply to your slight joke, instead watching as the droid stroked one of the baby's long ears, before ultimately stepping off the boat and into the sizzling red lava below him. The magma hissed and sputtered with each dragged-out step the droid took forward. Karga had even called out for him, yet the IG paid no attention to his words. He continued on, despite his metal legs already beginning to gradually burn and melt—he was downright determined to salvage the Child.
And all you could manage to do was watch.
The droid had reached a point in the distance in which you couldn't quite perceive his figure very clearly. As he exited the tunnels and stepped out into the openness, now vulnerable to countless stormtroopers waiting for your team, you'd heard his robotic voice ring out and reverberate through the hot sewers. Those words were unintelligible, though. And in a few short seconds, an abrupt explosion erupted, undoubtedly destroying him in the process.
The coercion sent a wave of lava backwards and headed straight towards your direction, though luckily it didn't strike anyone along the way. Instead, the boat lifted itself along with the wave, before then beginning to further approaching the exit. The light of day slowly became more visible as it progressed through the river. You could already smell the repulsing scent of burnt human flesh, ash, and smoke.
IG-11, even though he wasn't exactly alive in the first place, was... dead.
Damn. And you were just beginning to take a liking to the droid.
Whatever time you had to dwell on your fellow companion's death was quickly interfered by the all too familiarly obnoxious sound of a TIE-fighter approaching in the distance—the exact vessel that had landed back near the cantina... Which indicated that the person controlling the TIE was none other than kriffing Moff Gideon.
You released a frustrated breath as you set the bag in your hands down, preparing yourself for another grueling, long battle. It seemed as if these obstacles were never-ending—it was difficulty after difficulty after difficulty. This had better be the final one...
Everyone was already beginning to urgently shoot towards the imminently advancing fighter, yet the vessel's thick metal walls encasing the man within it were much too strong and durable for mere blaster bolts to penetrate it. Nevertheless, the insistent firing continued. Since a blaster was way out of your reach, you found yourself nervously gripping onto the hilt of your lightsaber, much too reluctant to bring it out even if it were needed in this particular scenario.
"Our blasters are useless against him!" Cara voiced after the shooting gradually died down.
"Let's make the baby do the magic hand thing," Karga suggested, lifting a hand and sending a short wave towards the Child's direction. "Come on, baby! Do the magic hand thing."
Even despite your dire situation, you found yourself chuckling at the baby who merely imitated the magistrate's act, followed by a couple clueless coos.
Karga released a sigh. Then, "I'm out of ideas..."
"Well, I'm not." You snatched the silver jetpack leaning against the boat's wall, and outstretched it towards Din's direction with a familiar smirk plastered all over your tired face. "I know you're supposed to heal and train first, but..."
"It's our only choice," he acknowledged, before quickly accepted it into his gloved hands and attaching it to his back. Well, at least for once he was listening to one of your suggestions...
"Here he comes!" Cara shouted, alerting everyone of the TIE-fighter's dangerously close proximity.
Firing commenced yet again, as if those actions would do anything to prevent the vessel from approaching any further. It was advancing at increasingly high speeds, and much to your dismay, headed straight for your vulnerable little boat still roaming through the lava river. Bracing yourself, you found yourself ducking down to shield the Child from possible threats. Seconds later, the ear-splitting sounds of the fighter shooting filled your ears, causing the hairs at the nape of your neck to prick upon feeling how dangerously near those bullets were. Streaks of green flashed before your eyes, causing you to instinctively pull the Child closer to you. A violent breeze then brushed by you, undoubtedly emanating from the TIE-fighter rushing and zooming by at such a rapid momentum.
And when you rose upright, straightening your back, turned around, Din was gone. As you craned your head upwards, you caught sight of the beskar-clad figure ascending into the air, along with his activated jetpack working perfectly well.
You couldn't quite perceive what was occurring very well, yet you managed to pick out the best you could. As the TIE-fighter soared through the air, Din had successfully hooked himself onto the vessel. Soon after realizing the Mandalorian was now attached to the fighter and attempting to destroy the ship along with him, Moff Gideon put in his utmost effort to weave his vessel free from Din. Luckily, though, Din managed to maintain a decent grip—but definitely struggling along the way.
There was an explosion then—which you assumed was Din attempting to blow the damned thing up, yet the violent wind and the constant turbulence prevented him from succeeding on the first try. Another unexpected jerk was provided by Moff Gideon. Still, Din remained glued to the ship—quite impressive and surprising, especially given his gloves that could cause for him to easily slip off. Then, it seemed he was fortunate enough to secure a couple charges onto the vessel, because he'd abruptly released his hold and sent himself gliding backwards before the fighter erupted. Gideon now effectively lacked control to his TIE-fighter as it rapidly plummeted down towards the ground below it, undoubtedly killing the pestering Imperial in the process.
You couldn't contain the grin spreading widely on your lips, before you brought the Child out of his sack and holding him close to you. "It's all over, ad'ika." A finger stroked one of his green ears, earning a coo in response. "You're safe now."
Along with Cara and Karga, you opted to hop off the boat and step into stable, open land before then approaching the Mandalorian who landed a distance away. It wasn't the most flawlessly perfect landing, but... he managed.
"That was impressive, Mando!" Karga commented as your group came to a halt in front of the worn-out Mandalorian. "Very impressive. It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up."
"Anymore stormtroopers?" Din questioned as he watched you step closer to him, remaining by his side. Then, you set the Child down onto the ground beneath him so he could stretch his leg for a moment or two—he definitely deserved it for remaining glued to the bag for several long hours.
"I think we cleaned up the town," Cara immediately answered. "I'm thinking of sticking around just to be sure."
"So, you're staying here now?" You questioned.
"Well, why not? Nevarro is a very fine planet," Karga commented, opening his arms as he gestured towards the ashy land. "And now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, its very respectable again."
"As a bounty hunter hive?"
"Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters!" The magistrate grinned, exchanging brief glances between you and Din. Then, he placed a hand on the Alderaanian's shoulder besides him. "And perhaps this specimen of soldier might consider joining our ranks."
The two conversed between each other for a quick moment, yet you and Din couldn't seem to concentrate on that matter anymore. Instead, as your heads tilted down, you caught sight of the Child by your feet. With one palm set on one of Din's boots, and the other grabbing onto your own boot, it was evident that he was asking for your attentions. As he stared up towards you guys with those adorably big black eyes, you couldn't help the gentle smile escaping your lips—and in the back of your mind, you had a feeling Din was imitating your exact expression underneath that visor of his.
Then, the conversation returned to you guys, Karga speaking up first—"But you my friends, will be welcome back into the Guild with open arms. So, go off, enjoy yourselves, and when you're ready to return, you will have the pick of all quarries."
As the Child raised his little grabby claws towards Din, he swiftly bent down and brought the baby into his arms. Lifting himself up from the crouch, you managed to discern a crackle in his voice modulator indicating a brief sigh. Then, "I'm afraid I have more pressing matters at hand."
Cara outstretched a gentle hand, caressing one of the Child's long green ears. "Take care of this little one—the both of you."
You bobbed your head in response. "We will."
"Or maybe it'll take care of the two of you," Karga voiced, earning a chuckle from you.
"Maybe." You managed one final grin towards their direction. "Thank you for all your help. I don't know what we would've done without you guys."
They waved one final goodbye, exchanging brief words of departure then. Din, outstretching a hand towards your direction, slid his gloved fingers behind your back, allowing them to linger hesitantly—which indicated he was requesting permission. With one nod, you allowed him to wrap his one arm around your waist, pulling you close to his beskar-clad body. His other arm secured the Child near to him, before he activated his jetpack and shot up into the air. The sudden motion had caused you to cling tighter to the Mandalorian—one hand draping around his neck, the other hook your fingers onto the lip of his beskar cuirass to further support yourself.
The mission was ultimately over, and now it was safe to sigh a breath of much-needed relief.
Though little did you know that Din was overwhelmed by a certain anxiety—something he couldn't quite manage to remove from his mind the entire mission.
note:
one more chapter left. 💃🏻