Landing on Nevarro, Alora is amazed at how much progress the planet has made since they last visited. The main town is a bustling city with trees and infrastructure—a stark difference from the Imperial-run shit-hole she first saw. As they walk through the streets, she can't help but take note of each vendor they pass and what they sell. Her stomach rumbles at the mixing scents of fresh food in the air.
Droids roam the street reciting an obvious script about how great Nevarro is. It makes Alora smirk and shake her head.
"A lot had changed around here," Mando says, glancing down at Grogu in his bassinet.
As they walk up to the main square, Alora's eyes catch a statue in the center: IG-11 stands tall with a blaster in hand. Grogu coos next to her, his hands reaching out. "Remember your friend?" Alora asks as they pause beside the statue. The more she looks, the more it simply looks like IG-11 itself and not a replica.
"Mando! Tiri!" Greef Karga's voice draws their attention as he walks toward them in a luscious red robe. "I heard you were back, but I didn't believe it."
"Magistrate Karga," Mando greets him.
"That's High Magistrate Karga to you."
Alora arches a brow and crosses her arms. "Really?"
Greef chuckles nervously and shakes his head. "Come. Let's catch up on old times. It's so good to see you. Welcome back."
"Doesn't even look like the same place," Mando says as they follow Greef.
"I know, we've done a lot with it. The citizens have been so instrumental in making this all work, and look at this!" Greef points out a few significant buildings along the way, but they eventually find their way to his office overlooking the city.
Grogu launches himself into Greef's chair which spins around as Greef leads Alora and Mando to his balcony. "We are an official trade spur of the Hydian Way," Greef says.
"Congratulations," Alora replies. "That is quite the achievement, considering what this place used to be."
"We've got a construction boom going on in the city. The belters are mining the asteroid fields at the edge of the system. There's a lot of money to be made on Nevarro."
Mando nods, "I can see."
"I can set you up with a prime tract right over by the hot springs. You both and the little one, you can settle down, you can hang up for blaster and lightsaber. Live off the fat of the land."
Alora glances out at the land with a small sigh. She wishes she could put her lightsabers away forever. It took her months to build a new saber to replace the one she gave to Luke for Grogu. Months of living in the cold with a singular goal. She spent weeks pouring all her energy over one saber with the one kyber crystal she was able to find only to promptly destroy it when it was complete. Despite the hardship, she will never wield a blue lightsaber. It took three more tries to find the one she uses now.
"Grogu," Mando says, snapping Alora back to the present. "His name is Grogu."
"Oh," Greef frowns. "If you say so. Come, I wanna show you something." He leads them to his desk and pulls up a map of the planet. "There's a beautiful parcel available right down here by the flats—"
"I appreciate the offer, but I have some matters to look after."
Alora chances a look at the unforgiving metal of his helmet. His matters involve exploring a poisoned planet for the smallest chance of redemption. It is madness itself, yet here she is by his side.
"I'm confused," Greef says. "I thought you had completed your mission, but you're still running around here with the same little critter."
Alora places a hand on Grogu's chair, stopping his use of the Force to keep it spinning. "It's complicated. Our Mandalorian here wishes to return to his Creed."
"I completed my quest," Mando says. "He returned to me. I removed my helmet, and now I'm an apostate."
"And you?" Greef asks, turning his gaze to Alora.
She purses her lips and heaves out a heavy sigh. "Temptation is difficult to resist." She does not shift her gaze to look at Mando who is now looking back at her.
"That is quite the loaded answer." Greef glances between them. "But it is all the more reason for you to stay here with us. Where you are from, you may be an apostate, but here, you'd be landed gentry."
The doors to the office open as a droid walks in, calling for the Magistrate. "High Magistrate," Greef says through gritted teeth. "Your timing couldn't be any worse."
"Yeah, I'm never calling you that," Alora mutters as she leans against the arm of Grogu's chair, holding her hand out for the candies he keeps stealing from Greef's desk. He chuckles before he uses the Force to take a few and place them in her hand.
"Apologies, but it's just that there's someone here to see you," the droid replies.
"It can wait," Greef says.
"But it's pirates." All of them turn to stare at the droid. "Pirates in the courtyard!"
Alora curses under her breath before she places Grogu back in his traveling bassinet. Of course, pirates come just when they want a little break from trouble. She flips her hood above her head as she follows Greef and Mando out to the courtyard where pirates crowd outside the old bar-turned-school.
"Get out of my way or I'll split your circuits," one of the pirates snaps at the teacher droid in the threshold of the building.
"Stand aside, droid, don't you know who we are?" Another asks.
As Greef steps forward, Alora stays back with Mando and Grogu. "Come on, Vane," Greef says. "That'll be enough of that."
"Greef Karga, my old friend!" The one named Vane says. As he holds his hands out, Alora takes note of the weapons on his belt. Mando must also as he leans against a nearby tree. It would be casual if Alora did not know him as well as she does. "I knew you wouldn't insult us. Come, join us for a drink."
Greef waves a hand. "Let's continue this conversation back at my office. This—this is a school."
Vane laughs. "Well, that explains why she wouldn't let us inside," He motions to the droid in the doorway. "I forgot, it was your cut of my boss' treasure that built this saloon."
Greef clenches a hand into a fist. "Pirate King Gorian Shard's name is familiar to all in this sector. Come, join me for a drink back at my office. We'll toast to your captain."
"We drink here."
"That is a school now."
"I say it's still a bar. Now, bring us a drink."
"Is there a problem here, Magistrate?" Mando asks, his hands at his belt, though far away from any weapons. Alora, on the other hand, already has her hands on her beskar blades.
"Is there a problem here?" Greef asks of the pirates. "What do you think?"
Vane sneers, "Not if you serve me a drink. Or maybe your pretty pet can do it while we discuss business." His gaze drifts to Alora, looking her up and down.
Mando straightens up, but Alora simply stares at Vane, her grip tightening on her weapons.
"Not in my school," Greef states.
"You hear that, boys? His school. You paid us for murder and mayhem inside these doors. Sounds like you went soft." Vane makes a show of gripping his blaster.
"You think so? Try me." Greef places a hand near his own blaster. The two stare at each other for a long moment, as Alora prepares herself. The moment Vane makes a move, Greef Karga is faster, shooting the blaster from his grip. "Tell Captain Gorian Shard that Nevarro is no longer friendly to pirates. Now get outta here."
Vane glares at them as he takes a few steps back with the other pirates. Alora senses it before they make a move. Mando begins shooting the pirates one by one as Alora rushes up to Vane, kicking him to his knees and placing a glistening blade at his throat. One word, and the blade would spill blood.
"Get out of here, Vane," Greef says. "Now."
Alora slams her boot into his back before she withdraws, watching as he scampers away. "Are you sure you wanna let him go?" She asks.
"He'll let it be known that Nevarro is respectable now and not to be trifled with." Greef sighs. He takes a moment before looking at one of the nearby droids. "Have the service droids scrub up out here." The droid nods as Greef turns to Mando and Alora. "I gotta level with you. I need a marshal."
"What about Marshal Dune?" Mando asks.
"After she brought in Moff Gideon, she was recruited by Special Forces."
Alora steps forward. "And what came of Gideon?"
Greef waves a hand. "He was sent off to a New Republic War Tribunal." Alora runs a hand over her hood. "So, what do you say? You ready to put on the stripes and collect a healthy stiped? Nothing like what you made before, High General, but you'd be comfortable. You'd make fine lawmen."
Pursing her lips, Alora asks, "Why not request one from the New Republic? They have some fine people who could help."
"The last thing we intend is to bow down to yet another far-off bureaucracy. No offense. Under my watch, Nevarro will become the first truly independent trade anchor in this entire sector."
Mando sighs. "I can't serve as your marshal. We have something pressing to attend to."
Greef glances at her. "Apologies. I didn't know you were here on business." He sounds almost saddened. "What can we provide?"
Mando silently points into the center of the square at the statue of IG-11. "I need him back."
Alora scoffs as Greef laughs. "IG-11 was destroyed on the lava river. This is just a statue."
"These are his parts, are they not?"
"What's left of them," Alora mutters.
"We were lucky to recover any of his parts after he self-destructed," Greef adds.
"I need a droid I can trust to help me explore Mandalore," Mando explains, "and he's that droid."
"Mando," Greef shakes his head, "we've got plenty of droids around here, we'll find you one. I guarantee it."
"Let me give it a shot."
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"Why aren't you helping?" Mando asks, though his attention remains solely on the droid lying on the table between them. IG-11's hardware is much more complex than Alora can manage, so she simply stands on the other side of the table. "I thought you knew things like this."
"You think that just because I'm good at building and fixing ships, that means I understand droids?" Alora scoffs, shaking her head. "Droids are unique. Ships have patterns."
Mando's hands pause in midair as he tilts his helmet up. "You expect me to believe you were taught everything you need to know about ships in your training, but droids are a mystery?"
Lowering her voice, Alora leans over the droid. "Lorn didn't trust droids much. Said their circuitry could be easily changed."
"Would you two stop squabbling?" Greef asks from his spot leaning against the wall. "Are you getting anywhere useful?"
Mando hesitates for a moment before he busies his hands once more. "One minute." Alora holds her own hands up as a bright spark ignites for a moment. "There, he's hooked up to power," Mando says. "Let's see if we can wake him up."
For a long, tense moment, nothing happens. Grogu's sudden coo draws Alora's attention to the droid's twitching fingers before the lights in its head turn on. "There you go," Greef mutters in disbelief while the droid struggles to sit up.
Grogu crawls closer to IG-11 as its voice, though distorted, says, "Subparagraph sixten-teen-teen of the Bondsman Guild protocol waiver—Immediately produce said—The bounty is mine. Asset to be terminated."
Alora's eyes widen as IG-11's lights turn red. She grabs hold of Grogu and leaps back, pushing him under her hood as she pulls it over her head. Mando begins shooting at IG-11 as it lunges off the table and begins crawling after Alora and Grogu.
"Terminate asset. Terminate asset."
"Why is it so fast—" Alora lets out a yelp as IG-11's hand grabs hold of her ankle. It would be easy to destroy what's left of the droid, but she and Mando just spent so much time fixing it up. Instead, she kicks out her foot, trying to keep it from climbing up her leg to no avail. "Don't shoot me!"
The Mandalorian, to his credit, stops. His helmet looks around for anything else just as Alora's eyes land on a nearby bust of the High Magistrate. She shouts a quick apology before she slams the golden bust onto IG-11's head. It collapses onto the ground soundlessly, but Grogu grabs hold of her ear to lean out of her hood and watch.
"That's using your head," Mando sighs as he puts his blaster away. "I think he defaulted to his old programming."
"You think?" Greef exclaims. With a heavy sigh, he shakes his head. "I have an idea. Load it up, and follow me."
Alora and Mando take what is left of IG-11 and load him onto a movable carrier. Grogu sits atop its chest while Mando pushes the cart through the streets as Greef leads them. "That's too big a job for you to do by yourself. Fortunately, Nevarro has attracted the best droidsmiths of the Outer Rim. They'll have IG back to his old self in no time."
They pause as Mando asks, "Are you sure they're up for it? I don't think I can handle him with all his limbs if things go scud."
"I could," Alora shrugs, though she goes largely ignored.
"Why don't you ask them yourself," Greef says.
"Who?" Mando asks.
"The Anzellans." Greef points to a small door at the bottom of the wall they face where a small Anzellan walks out.
"What do you want?"
It takes longer than Alora expected to get IG-11's body down to the Anzellan's workshop and also themselves. The place was not made for people of their size, and Alora elected to stay outside, sitting just by the door with her legs crossed as she watches.
Sparks fly and the Anzellans talk to each other before one turns to Mando and says, "No. Can't fix. No, no, no. The broken."
"Uh... ok," Mando replies, but the Anzellan continues speaking in its native language. "I don't understand. Do you speak Huttese?"
"Mando, I know you don't know the language, but even I know it means that he can't fix it," Alora says with a roll of her eyes.
"That's no good. I need this one. This one is my friend."
"It not friend anymore," the droidsmith says. "Memory circuit broken."
Alora purses her lips together. "Is that clear enough or do I need to translate?"
Mando shoots her a look as Greef covers his chuckle with a cough behind her. "Put in a new one."
"No, no, no, no. Not work. Don't make new one. Very hard to find."
As Alora opens her mouth, Mando points at her and says, "Don't even."
She holds her hands up in defense as the Anzellan continues, "Buy new droid. This one poodoo."
"Buy a new one," Alora echoes mockingly.
If she didn't know any better, she'd say Mando growls at her. "Can you fix it without the memory circuit?"
"Yes, but IG no think," the Anzellan replies.
"What if I find you the part?"
"Ok, now. Then no problem. We fix."
Alora sighs and holds her head in her hands. "Why can't anything be straightforward? It's always, go three parsecs out of the way to get one item before you come back and half the town is destroyed." Shaking her head, she looks up to glare at Mando.
Anzellan shouting makes her glance to the side to see Grogu hugging the droidsmith tightly with a big smile. "No! No, no, no, Grogu! Put him down!"
"No, Grogu," Mando says as he reaches forward to separate them. "He's not a pet."
"No squeeze!" The droidsmith shouts. "No squeeze! Bad baby."
"Sorry about that. He's young."
The Anzellan sighs, but Grogu immediately reaches forward once again. This time, Alora reaches her hand out, and Grogu shouts as she carries him through the air into her arms. "Your wandering privileges are revoked," she mutters as she stands up. Smacking her palm against the wall above the workshop, she yells, "Come on, Mandalorian. Seems we have a part to find."
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Alora is so annoyed with everyone in this chapter, its enjoyable to watch :)
Hope you enjoyed!
-L