The Mandalorian set his course and the ship surged as the familiar hypnotic streaks of hyperspace flowed into view. He always felt relief each time they entered hyperspace even though he never really trusted anywhere was safe. Even since the threat on Nevarro was destroyed he still felt uneasy, partly because he was still not completely healed, in more ways than one.
His body ached, in every direction. He prided himself on quick recoveries, and near indestructibility. But his brush with death a week ago had broken down many of his ideas of who he thought he was. He had faced for the first time in his life that his mortality was catching up to him, sooner rather than later. And that meant something now that he had a Child who needed him. He remembered his father figure going through the same process. And as the older man slowed down, he had watched with pride as Din found himself coming up as the most impressive fighter in the Death Watch corps. Well, him and Paz, of course.
His training fights with Paz were legendary in their Clan. Clan Vizsla prided themselves in keeping the strongest Foundlings. And Din, while physically smaller, was faster and smarter to match Paz' brute force. They built a friendship and respect over the years, and when their mother was executed and their father died in the conflict they were hunted and forced to flee by their Clan in order to preserve the future, and Paz left Mandalore with Din until they found the Tribe.
His heart ached. The Tribe was now gone, and so was Paz. They had fought over Din's bounty hunter activities, Paz never approved of the questionable moral code of killing people who did not deserve death. Din asserted that anyone who runs is guilty. In hindsight, Paz could not have been more right. They had reconciled with Din reclaiming his honor in Paz' eyes the night he rescued the Child. His guilt at the following destruction of the Tribe, however, weighed heavier than even his new mission.
His heart also had new holes where friends were now gone. They had given their lives so that his aching body could continue to safeguard the Child. Every time he felt he might lose his temper, he heard Kuiil in his mind reminding him to reinforce with patience. And every time he took off his helm and looked at the mirror, he thought about what IG-11 had seen with his synthetic eyes. Had he seen what Din now saw? These days he barely recognized the man he was before he met the Child.
His head ached and his brow furrowed as he continued to second guess the course he had laid in the navigation. The Armorer had said she knew of old tales of battles between the Mandalorians and the Child's kind — the Jedi. His only lead then was to find those tales. He had to return to Mandalore. He had not returned since the Purge, and for the past ten years had been so focused on survival that he never even considered looking back. Now, with mind, body and heart still recovering from the battle on Nevarro, he was about to reopen old wounds.
A soft beep on the comm caught his eye and made his heart jump with more of the same uneasy feeling that had been nagging him. He turned back to the ops station and found the Child asleep in the seat with the Mythosaur skull still in his mouth, covered in drool. Then he turned back to the console and pressed the blinking button.
A ghostly holoprojection of Cara Dune appeared and Din found he was holding his breath as he stared at her face.
"Hey Mando — checking in on you as planned. This week Greef and I have confirmed the few remaining Imps are on the run, but I will feel better once the new militia has cleared every building in the city. Once that's done we will check in with the Jawas and start cleaning up this place. Greef is setting up the Cantina as his base of operation, so contact us there at this signal. You should see him. You'd think he was already Mayor, General, and Senator of Nevarro." She could not contain a chuckle. "Listen, do me a favor and give yourself a quick medscan. It will put me at ease to know you're physically capable to take care of the Kid, OK? As agreed, I expect a response within two days, even just an acknowledgement with your code if that's all you can do. If you fail to respond we are coming after you. Stay safe, buddy."
Cara had a small smile on her lips then dropped her eyes as she reached down to close the comm channel message, and Mando felt a slight clench in his stomach when her image fizzled out. He pushed down that feeling and turned back to the Child who was now soundly snoring and the Mythosaur skull was hanging out of his mouth.
Din gritted his teeth and took in a sharp breath to avoid making any sounds as the pain caused a tear to form in the corner of his eye. He knew if he stood up his message would be more convincing. His last medscan was less than encouraging, he was healing, but not nearly as quickly as he had hoped. From the blast and fall he had multiple fractures of his ribs, vertebrae and torn sacral ligaments, and fluid on his bruised lungs. IG-11 had healed his skull fracture and subarachnoid bleed from the fall but the concussion was still affecting him daily. And he also had a healing torn rotator cuff from his stunt on the TIE fighter.
His first stop after they left Nevarro was to acquire some bacta so he could start infusions. It took every ounce of his infusions to keep healing fast enough to convince the Child he did not need to intervene. IG was right about his wounds healing in a matter of hours, but there were just so many wounds that the hours kept adding up... and there wasn't a chance he would ever tell Dune any of that.
He caught his breath again as he straightened up and then composed himself and pressed the comm button.
"Dune, good to hear from you, and that Greef is already setting himself up as the new emperor. Medscan is improving. We have a new heading. I will send encoded coordinates so you can monitor our progress. Please confirm the Armorer is safe and if any others of the Tribe —have returned." His voice wavered as a shock of pain jolted through his ribs. "The Kid is asleep, so I'll keep this short. Djarin, out." He reached for the comm button and closed the channel quickly before catching himself on the console and taking long, slow breaths.
He looked at the hyperspace navigation timer, he had just enough time for a quick infusion. He had to get it started before the kid woke up. He moved carefully down the ladder leaving the cockpit door open so he could hear any movement. The quiet snores were reassuring. He had to stop a couple of times to catch his breath, but his focus was unwavering. His kit came with an infusion port which made his hookup simple, so he just had to remove his armor and expose his shin where the port was drilled into his bone.
Once the line was set in place he decided to lay back on his sleep cot just for a few minutes.
******************************************************
He woke with a start, but there was a warm spot at his side were the Child had clearly moved to sleep with him and he was snoring again. He looked up at the bacta bag and found it was empty and he was actually feeling less pain around his head, shoulder and ribs. He flexed his abdominal muscles and self-corrected as he groaned to sit up — there was less pain.
The Child immediately stirred and yawned loudly. He looked up at Din and sleepily blinked then chirped with a questioning tone.
"I'm feeling better, kid. Thanks for keeping me company." He picked up the bag and showed it to the Child. "See? This will help fix me up."
The Child cocked his head slightly, as if unconvinced.
"Tough audience. Come on, let's check on our course." He gingerly moved himself off the sleep bench and then tucked the Child into his arm with the bad shoulder and with the other pulled himself up just high enough up the ladder to deposit the Child up on the command deck, then climbed up the rest of the way with both arms.
Every time, the kid made a beeline to the controls and Din had enough practice to stay just far enough ahead of him to scoop him up and deposit him back into his seat before he could drop them out of hyperspace into a black hole. The Child whined with a squeaky pout but admitted defeat again.
Din checked the timer and found they had just under ten minutes left in hyperspace. Then he noticed he had another message. He frowned. And his finger actually shook just a little as he reached for the blinking button.
The ghostly image of Cara Dune appeared again, "This message is for the Kid. Hey Kid, please do me a favor and tell your father to try putting on a brave face for someone who isn't an idiot. Miss you Kid. Take care of him for me. I'll report back on the Armorer when I have made contact."
She disappeared, and this time her image was not smiling. Din's head bowed slightly. He should have waited to reply after the infusion.
Then he looked up at the Child who was returning his gaze. "We've got each other's backs, Kid. We are going to be OK."
The Child giggled and reached a small three claw hand toward him. Din reached out with his finger and the Child grabbed it and squeezed.
The hyperdrive now started beeping, they were approaching their destination. Din set the Child back in his seat and then turned to the controls. With years of experience he eased the Razor Crest out of hyperspace just early enough to avoid alerting of the old Outer Defense perimeter. He had heard that it was back in force and he did not want to start off this encounter with a fight.
He flipped his universal local transmission switch, "Outer Defense, Outer Defense, this is Razor Crest requesting permission to approach."
No response.
"Outer Defense, Outer Defense, do you copy?"
Another long beat, Din's heart began to quicken.
"This is the Outer Defense, please repeat your sign," the deep voice on the other end sounded suspicious.
Din sighed relief, but also pursed his lips. His ship should be known to the Outer Defense database. They were no doubt scanning him to confirm — it was the ship Paz and he had taken off Mandalore.
"This is the Razor Crest. Repeat, the Razor Crest."
There was another short pause. "Clan Vizsla celebrates your return Paz."
Din swallowed hard, "Negative, Outer Defense control, this is Din Djarin. My brother Paz — his location is unknown."
There was another heavy silence. "Din Djarin, Clan Vizsla celebrates your return. The foundlings are the future. Proceed to the Vizsla Landing and report to your Clan for the Rebuilding. Welcome home."
Mixed emotions filled Din hearing these words, but all he said was, "Acknowledged."
Coordinates were sent for his heading, and he did not recognize it. The Vizsla compound was no doubt destroyed in the Purge. Din put the Razor Crest on autopilot and then reached back to pick up the Child so he could see everything on their approach to his new home.
"See this Kid? This is your new adopted home. Mandalore."
The Child looked all around with wide eyes as they passed the Outer Defense in the meteor belt and made their way towards the brown planet with swirling white clouds. As they moved closer, patches of green were visible surrounding interconnected small lakes of blue below. It looked like a small part of the eco-system was reasserting itself. He desperately wished that Paz was there with him to see the planet slowly coming back to life.
The ship moved into orbit and then began the gentle descent to the ruins of the Capital city, Sundari. He recognized many destroyed landmarks, many historic locations lost to future generations. They passed the old palace of the Prime Minister and the Representatives which looked like it was being rebuilt. The square of statues, however, which previously held colossi of Mandalorian history was now full of rubble.
The other thing he noticed as they moved closer to the large squares was he could see hundreds of people, some with helmets, but mostly without. He knew that the Way was not widely observed, and mostly within the military, but it still felt jarring to him to see so many Mandalorians without helms. Living normal lives. His entire life since the Clone Wars had been about survival and protecting the safety of others. His life was the Way, but life went on outside the Way. And that was as it should be; it was what he should be fighting for.
Then he realized that the ship was aimed toward the old headquarters of the Chancellor of Defense. He smiled to himself. Clan Vizsla had come home. The Death Watch was the highest level Defense Squadron of Mandalore before they split from the pacifist government. He was happy they had been restored to their honorable mission.
The Razor Crest set down on the first landing pad and Din started shutting down all systems. The Child, however, could not contain his excitement and immediately jumped down from his seat on Din's lap and started toward the ladder.
"Wait! KID!" Din shouted as he quickly flipped switches in order. Then he rushed after the Child and found him in the sleeping bunk retrieving his blue blanket and his silver ball. Din had to laugh and sighed with relief.
"I'm ready to settle in for a while too, but let's take this one step at a time ok?" He put the ball and blanket down again on the bed, picked up the Child set him down on the ground, and then squatted down to his level.
"We have a mission. We need to find your people. And we need to find out if we have a place here if our mission to find your people fails. These people are our kin, but they respect strength." He smiled to himself. "Who am I kidding, We know you have plenty of that."
The Child looked at him thoughtfully, and then lifted up his arms. Din picked him up again and they touched foreheads and then looked at each other.
"Be brave, be careful, and stick with me, ok?"
The look the Child gave almost looked like a small smirk, and he got the distinct impression he was thinking, I'm always brave. He couldn't help but suspect the Child was starting to understand him.
"Let's go." He put the Child down again, and then lowered the ship's outer door.
******************************************************
By the time the door lowered down completely there was a greeting party already arriving on a speeder. They all wore Clan Vizsla armor, and several ancient Clan helmets, but no individuals that he specifically recognized. That did not surprise him because the Clan previously numbered in the thousands and stretched across multiple settlements. Din started to walk down the ramp and he could hear the Child walking next to him.
The female at the head of the party stepped down from the speeder and waited for them to approach her. Din walked slowly to accommodate for smaller legs and feet.
Din stopped just in front of the female and then eased down on one knee and bowed over his knee.
"Din Djarin, Foundling of Clan Vizsla. I'm reporting home because I have — a new Clan Vizsla Foundling. I also must report that Paz Vizsla is currently — missing. He was lost on Nevarro when former Imperials attacked, but the Tribe reports that he may have escaped off-world."
The female stepped forward and reached down to Din's pauldron and ran her fingers over his sigil. Then placed a hand on top of Din's helmet.
"Din Djarin, House Vizsla rejoices in your return. Clan Vizsla's losses were among the heaviest. Clan Wren was nearly decimated. And Clan Saxon has failed to make restitution. The Foundlings are the future. Rise, Din Djarin."
Din looked up and stood before her, and gestured to the Child standing by his leg.
"This is my Foundling. He did not have any identification when I found him. He does not yet understand the Way. We come before you seeking his acceptance in the Clan, and for him to be named."
The female nods, "Of course. What significance is the sigil?"
Din nodded back. "The Child and I fought the Mudhorn together. He used his mind to hold the Mudhorn back long enough for me to kill it. He saved my life, and then I saved him from the Empire."
The entire party on the speeder now turned their helmets towards the Child. He looked back at them with large black eyes and squeaked, but then he puffed up his chest a little proudly. Din was happy his smile was hidden by his helm.
The female looked back at Din and nodded again. "We will find an appropriate name for this impressive show of strength from one so small." She cocked her head. "Do you intend to train him?"
Din shook his head, "The Foundling is in my care but he would not survive the training. I must find his own kind, or find someone who can train him to use his powers — as a Jedi."
Every person on the pad froze at the mention of that Order. Din could barely comprehend how he had never heard of them before if so many Mandalorians knew of them. The female had frozen as well but now recovered her composure.
"Come, let us discuss this mission in more detail — inside."
She turned and stepped back onto the speeder. Din motioned for the Child to follow, then Din was the last to board. The whole ride inside the structure he could feel the eyes of the entire party on him and he could feel the Child next to him inching closer to him nervously. But Din was proud he stood his ground and did not cower or hide under his cape.
The speeder stopped inside the compound at a grand door with high arches that once held stained glass. Four of the Mandalorians stepped out and took posts next to this door. Then the female stepped off and led the way through the door and down a stately hallway for Din and the Child to follow. She did not walk slowly, so Din picked up the Child and he rode on his shoulder. Din walked a little slower as he looked around and hid his stiff joints from the others. The female stopped outside a large office and waited for them to walk inside.
Once inside two others of the entourage stopped to stand guard and she closed the doors and turned to face them. Her helmet had accents of gold and white, and the eyes came out to a wider point compared to the Armorer. She was taller, as tall as Paz, and carried all of the authority expected in his Clan.
"Din Djarin, I am Zaral Vizsla. I am Paz Vizsla's cousin — and yours. Your father, my mother's younger brother, as you know, died during the Purge. Your father saved many Foundlings, you are among only four to complete the training, and you are the only one to return after the Purge."
Din felt his legs going slightly weak as the weight of this information set in.
"Then... you do not know of Paz's whereabouts?"
Zaral shook her head. "He has not yet returned. You were the last to see him alive."
"I was not. The leader of the Tribe on Nevarro, the Armorer, she saw him when the Imperials attacked. He was last seen during the assault. He was among many that disappeared and were assumed escaped — or captured." He finished quietly. To be captured would mean death.
Zaral nodded. "We must make contact with the Armorer then. We must continue to bring our sisters and brothers home."
Din nodded, "The Tribe as you know has no communication equipment, to prevent detection. But I have people on Nevarro that may contact her directly."
Zaral nodded, and she then turned toward the volumes of data on the shelves behind her desk and walked around behind it.
"Today, however, I'm afraid we must face an unpleasant task before we can celebrate the naming of your Foundling. We must address the issue of his apparent power in the Force."
"The Force?" Din said.
"It is the name of the power this Foundling has a connection to. It is how he lifted a Mudhorn that was ten thousand times his weight," Zaral replied.
"He also stopped a fire trooper's weapon. And he healed a Mynock venom wound."
Zaral now looked up from the data console and stood. "This Child has done all of these things?"
Din nodded, and the Child chirped in response.
Zaral stood astounded. "I have only heard legends of Jedi with such powers. Even the few left that have met our Clan cannot do all of these things, with years of training."
Din was now also stunned. "But — what does that mean for him?"
Zaral shook her head. "I do not know." She beckoned for him to move closer to the desk.
A symbol appeared on the holodisplay, one that he did not recognize. "This is the symbol of the Jedi. They were an Order of sorcerers that began untold eons ago, the Order trained those with a strong connection to the Force to use their power to protect freedom in the Galaxy from those who would dominate others.
"They grew in number and then began the discord. As with all organizations splinters began and some maintained a peaceful demeanor while others tended toward a warrior way of life. The warriors, however, became too enamored with their growing power and soon left the Order completely to grow as a new Order called the Sith. They cultivated their power in Darkness and waged war on the Jedi, nearly wiping them out. The Jedi power came from the Light and soon their numbers of recruits far surpassed the growth of the Darkness and they were victorious, destroying the Sith Temple at Moraband.
"Five thousand years ago, the Jedi Order established a Temple on Coruscant, and became advisors to a rising power that eventually became the Old Republic. But after three thousand years the Mandalore found a decline in that Republic was due to the philosophy of the Jedi, avoiding battle at all costs, and protecting weak leaders, and they came into conflict. Our weaponry was developed over millennia in order to manage battle with Jedi whose powers required no machines. We were victorious on many battle fields. Over a thousand years ago, Tarre Vizsla, a Mandalorian with an unrivaled connection to the Force, was allowed to train with the Jedi because his mother felt that the conflict must end. He became one of the fiercest warriors of the Jedi, and he created a weapon called the Dark Saber. But ultimately, due to politics on both sides, he was forced to choose. He refused to fight against his own people, and he left the Order, leading the Mandalorians against the Jedi to his death. His Dark Saber was brought back to the Jedi temple until it was stolen back by House Vizsla and used as a symbol to rule Mandalore."
Zaral turned back to Din and the Child who still sat on his shoulder with his mouth open in awe. "This story is for you both to understand what you are facing on this quest. You see before you nearly ten thousand years of history, and three thousand years of conflict with Mandalore. However, I want you both to understand that does not mean there is no hope for your Clan to bring Mandalore into a stronger future. For a member of a Clan who has such powers to heal should have a name worthy of a Jedi."
Din reached up to his shoulder and picked up the Child to set him on Zaral's desk. She reached out and placed her hand on his head.
"I name you, Tarre-Haal, the second of House Vizsla to be a Jedi warrior — and the first Jedi healer."
Din also put his hand on Tarre-Haal, who cooed, but did not move.
Din whispered, "Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad," I know your name as my child.
Zaral replied, "Gai bal manda," Name and soul.
When Zaral and Din removed their hands Tarre looked up at them, and Din saw in his eyes a look that said, I'll make you proud.
Din looked back up at Zaral, "You agree then, I should take him back to the Jedi? How am I to find them? Are they still on Coruscant?"
Zaral shook her head, "The Order was destroyed by the Emperor at the end of the Clone Wars. The fugitive Jedi were hunted during the Age of the Empire, and very few remain. However, I heard that it was two Jedi who returned the Dark Saber to House Wren before the Purge, and it was Bo-Katan of House Kryze who used it to unite Mandalore to resist the Empire, but ultimately failed."
Din had not heard of the final events on Mandalore. "So House Kryze was destroyed."
Zaral nodded, "And Bo-Katan murdered. Her nephew, Kor-Kayan, was captured and presumed dead. When the Empire fell the Governor and the Imperial Security Bureau were finally driven from the planet. And we began to rebuild."
Din leaned forward. "Who murdered Bo-Katan?"
Zaral looked back at Din, "Moff Gideon."
Din suddenly felt his breath leave him, and had to brace his hands on the desk. Tarre-Haal walked over to his father and put one hand on his arm, slowly closing his eyes.
Suddenly, Din felt a warmth spreading from his arm to his injured shoulder and up further to his head and down to his lungs. When he realized what was happening, he reached over to Tarre and placed a hand over the tiny one on his arm.
"Stop, please, Tarre. You have done enough, you need your strength." He gently pulled the tiny hand off his arm and Tarre looked up at him with his large black eyes. "Save your strength."
Din looked back to Zaral. "I am injured because I fought and killed Moff Gideon on Nevarro. His forces are in retreat as we speak."
Zaral nodded. "Your entire Clan will be told of this victory."
Din stood up again and looked her in the eye. "I will also return to that fight, but first, I must find the two Jedi. I must speak with House Wren."