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Chapter Text

            (Y/N) really needed to stop being surprised when the Mandalorians got themselves into trouble since they, quite frankly, had terrible. Still, somehow, they were a little offput at seeing a giant crocodile trying to eat the reformed Mandalorian covert as Mando flew them in on the N-1 starfighter.

            Mando reacted quickly, flying over the crocodile and firing down on it to keep it from devouring any Mandalorians. He circled around and fired a powerful blast into the crocodile’s side. It screeched and fell, dead. Mando smoothly landed the starfighter beside the corpse as the Mandalorians crept closer, unfamiliar with the ship and hesitant to trust. The canopy opened, and Mando, (Y/N), and Grogu turned to face the covert. The Armorer stood at the front of the group, her familiarly intimidating radiating out.

            To be honest, though, after having their vision of Mandalore the Great, the first Mand’alor of Mandalore, (Y/N) wasn’t really intimidated by any Mandalorians. That Mandalorian had been imposing, gleaming beskar a painted red-orange, standing tall and powerful. (Y/N) doubted they’d be so quieted in awe by anyone else in their lifetime.

            So even over a year of not seeing a Mandalorian other than Mando (it had taken them quite some time to find the covert after it moved once again), (Y/N) couldn’t find any place within them to be intimidated. Slight anxiety since Mando was still in trouble for removing his helmet? Yeah. No intimidation, though.

            The Armorer turned away from the starfighter and walked into the caves. Mando silently exited the ship and followed her, needing to speak to her before he continued on his quest. (Y/N) and Grogu, never ones to let Mando wander off without them, hopped out and followed. (Y/N) ignored the stares of the Mandalorians at their and Grogu’s obviously Jedi-like clothing as they made their way in. They were Mando’s clan; their clothes didn’t matter.

            “You have removed your helmet,” said the Armorer’s calm voice, not even having to turn as Mando, Grogu, and (Y/N) stepped into her smelting room. “What’s worse, you did so of your own free will.”

            To save me and Grogu, thought (Y/N). They felt a bit guilty about that.

            “You are no longer Mandalorian,” said the Armorer, facing them.

            “The Creed teaches us of redemption,” said Mando.

            “Redemption is no longer possible since the destruction of our home planet,” said the Armorer.

            “But what if the mines of Mandalore still exist?” asked Mando.

            “All was destroyed in the Purge,” said the Armorer firmly.

            (Y/N) removed a green stone from their belt that Mando had asked them to carry. They placed it on a table as Mando said, “Is this inscription not Mandalorian?”

            The Armorer walked over and examined the piece. “Where did you come upon this?”

            “Jawas,” said (Y/N), speaking for the first time. They didn’t want to mess this up for Mando.

            “They came upon it by trade from a traveler who claimed to have visited the surface of Mandalore,” explained Mando.

            “Then this relic only proves that Mandalore’s entire surface has been crystallized by fusion rays,” said the Armorer matter-of-factly.

            “But a traveler was able to retrieve this, so perhaps, it is not poisoned,” said Mando. “If I can visit the planet and I can bring you proof that I have bathed in the Living Waters beneath the mines of Mandalore, then by Creed, the decree of exile will be lifted, and I would be redeemed.

            Grogu cooed in encouragement, and (Y/N) nodded.

            “This is the Way,” said the Armorer.

            Mando nodded stiffly. He wished to return the sentiment, but he was no longer Mandalorian and felt uncomfortable doing so. The Armorer stood and turned away, and Mando followed suit.

            “Then I will see you again,” said Mando. He would succeed in his quest. He had to.

            (Y/N) paused for a moment as he and Grogu left the room. Their eyes traveled to the Mythosaur emblazoned on the wall of the cave. Their brow creased, and their Ushti markings, deep orange, creased with the movement, appearing sharper. Mando had explained its significance to them, and after seeing such a signet on Mandalore the Great’s armor, (Y/N) understood how important it was. Mandalore the Great’s firm gaze from behind their helmet seemed echoed in the harsh metal of the signet, and their guiding words to (Y/N) echoed.

            “You have the heart of an Ushti, the soul of a Jedi, and the mind of a Mandalorian. The Mandalorians need such a perspective. The path winds in unexpected ways, but as long as our hearts are seeking our Way, we will find it again. Do not try to be what you’re not, and allow yourself to be what you are. Then you can become what you are meant to be.”

            Tough words to live up to. Mandalore the Great seemed to expect a lot from (Y/N). They closed their eyes and sent a brief prayer for guidance into the world before nodding in respect to the signet and turning away. Whatever they were meant to be, they were Mando’s ad’ika first. They’d help him find his place as a Mandalorian again.

            The Armorer watched as (Y/N) nodded to the signet as if it were a person standing before them, something with which they had a personal relationship. It was strange for a non-Mandalorian to seem that familiar with a Mandalorian cultural symbol, and even for a Mandalorian, their seemingly personal relationship with it seemed significant.

            Odd, thought the Armorer.

l

            “Are you sure this is the right planet?” said (Y/N) as they watched Nevarro come into view in the window. It seemed so much more advanced and “proper” in a way since they had last been there. Sure, it had been a nicer, safer city even then, but Nevarro was growing into a prosperous town it seemed.

            “Yes,” said Mando. “It seems Greef Karga has been working hard on advancing Nevarro.”

            “Obviously,” said (Y/N) as they landed.

            “Welcome to Nevarro,” said a woman’s voice over the communications system. “Independent trade anchor and Outer Rim Hyperlane port. Please state the purpose of your visit.”

            “Here to meet an old friend,” said Mando, opening the canopy of the ship and getting out. He helped (Y/N), holding Grogu, out before they headed into the bustling streets of Nevarro. (Y/N) placed Grogu in his new cradle before they set off.

Trees now lined the paths, and vendors of fine wares called out for people to buy their supplies.

            “Greetings. Welcome to the port of Nevarro, gem of the Outer Rim,” said a droid to each new person they encountered. “Our esteemed High Magistrate welcomes you and hopes that your stay will be a prosperous one.”

            Another droid informing tourists and travelers of Nevarro spoke as they passed. “We invite you to visit our shops and markets, enjoy local delicacies, marvel at the black lava canyons, or soak in the geothermal springs.”

            “A lot has changed,” said (Y/N), and Mando nodded in vehement agreement.

            They entered the main square and found a familiar statue in the center. It was the deactivated remnants of IG-11, standing tall before them as the protector of the city. It was a sweet remembrance for the droid, and (Y/N) appreciated it after his sacrifice. Also, they needed the droid, so to see him in fairly well-kept condition was good.

            “Do you remember him?” asked (Y/N), glancing at Grogu. He babbled quietly. He did.

            “Mando!” said a familiar voice jovially. Karga had arrived, now in a long regal Magistrate’s cloak with several droids holding the train.

            (Y/N) snorted. He loved his drama.

            “I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it!” said Karga. “And look who’s with you! Grogu, now, right? And (Y/N) the Ushti!” He shook all their hands (and gave Grogu a big hug) with a side grin.

            “Magistrate Karga,” greeted Mando and (Y/N).

            “That’s High Magistrate Karga to you,” said Karga proudly.

            Mando and (Y/N) chuckled at the drama.

            “Come,” said Karga. “Let’s catch up on old times.” He gestured to the official building behind him, beautiful and gleaming above the square. “It’s so good to see you two. Welcome back.”

            “Doesn’t even look like the same planet,” said Mando.

            “No, it doesn’t,” agreed (Y/N).

            “We’ve done a lot with it,” said Karga. “The citizens have been so instrumental in making this all work, and look at this.”

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            In Karga’s office, Mando and (Y/N) stood with Karga as he showed them around as Grogu sat in the desk chair and spun himself around with the Force.

            “We are an official trade spur of the Hydian Way,” said Karga proudly.

            “Congratulations,” said Mando.

            “We’ve got a construction boom going on in the city,” continued Karga. “The belters are mining the asteroid fields at the edge of the system. There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro.”

            “We can see,” said (Y/N), looking down at the marketplace below.

            “I can set you up with a prime tract right over by the hot springs, Mando,” said Karga eagerly. “You, (Y/N), and the little one, you can settle down. You can hang up your blaster. Live off the fat of the land.”

            (Y/N) cocked their head. Like a little farm? Sounds…nice. It would be a nice break.

            “Come, I wanna show you something,” said Karga. “Now, as I was saying, there’s a beautiful parcel available right down here by the flats.” He drew up a hologram and showed them where.

            “I appreciate the offer, but I have some matters to look after,” said Mando.

            “Oh, I’m confused,” said Karga. “I thought you had completed your mission, but you’re still running around here with the same little critter and Ushti.

            “It’s…complicated,” said (Y/N), shrugging. Discussing the intricacies of Mandalorian vs Jedi relations and their place in the universe was a bit too existential. “He completed his quest. We returned.”

            “I removed my helmet, and now I’m an apostate,” continued Mando plainly.

            “Which is all the more reason for you to stay here with us,” said Karga jovially. “Where you are from, you may be an apostate, but here, you’d be landed gentry.”

            The doors slid open, and a droid walked into the room. “Magistrate,” it greeted.

            “High Magistrate,” corrected Karga with a sigh.

            “Yes, High Magistrate. Apologies,” said the droid.

            “Your timing couldn’t be any worse,” muttered Karga.

            “But it’s just that. Someone’s here to see you,” said the droid.

            “It can wait!” declared Karga.

            “But it’s pirates!” alerted the droid fretfully.

            Karga turned to the droid, Mando shifted uneasily, and (Y/N) blinked. Grogu just munched on snacks he was Force-pulling to himself.

            “Pirates in the courtyard!” said the droid.

            Wherever we go, drama follows. We have bad luck, thought (Y/N).

Chapter Text

            Hands on their blasters, Mando and (Y/N) followed Karga through the streets of Nevarro to where a group of pirates were gathered around the schoolhouse, causing a disruption as they yelled at the civilians trying to go about their business. Grogu whined as he saw them from his cradle.

            “Get out of my way, or I’ll split your circuits!” threatened a pirate, glaring at the droid teacher, who stood in the entrance of the school to keep them from entering.

            “Oh my stars!” exclaimed the droid, raising its hands as a blaster was pointed at them.

            “Stand aside, droid, don’t you know who we are?” sneered a pirate.

            “Come on, Vane,” said Karga, stepping in before the situation got worse. “That’ll be enough of that.”

            “Greef Karga, my old friend!” said Vane, grinning cruelly. “I knew you wouldn’t insult us! Come, join us for a drink!”

            “Yeah,” clamored the rest of the pirate crew.

            “Let’s continue this conversation back at my office,” said Karga, attempting to diffuse the situation. “This, this is a school.”

            “Well, that explains why she wouldn’t let me inside,” said Vane, gesturing to the droid teacher. “I forgot, it was your cut of the boss’s treasure that built this saloon.”

            “Pirate King Gorian Shard’s name is familiar to all in this sector,” said Karga evenly. “Come, join me for a drink back at my office. We’ll toast to your captain.”

            “We drink here,” said Vane coldly.

            “That is a school now,” said Karga firmly.

            “I say it’s still a bar,” hissed Vane. “Now, bring us a drink.”

            “Is there a problem here, Magistrate?” said Mando coolly.

            “Is there a problem here?” said Karga, challenging Vane. “What do you think?”

            “Not if you serve me a drink,” said Vane.

            “Not in my school,” said Karga.

            “His school.” Vane and his men blocked the street, the belts with gleaming blasters shining in the sun. “You paid us for murder and mayhem inside these doors. Sounds like you went soft.” His hand went to his blaster, and (Y/N)”s hand went to theirs.

            “You think so?” Karga stood firm as he brushed back his robes to display his own blaster. “Try me.”

            Vane chuckled, and tension hung over the group. Suddenly, he drew his blaster. Karga was faster and shot his hand before he could fire. It was a clear warning to Vane.

            “Tell Captain Gorian Shard that Nevarro is no longer friendly to pirates,” said Karga. “Now get outta here.”

            Vane backed up, but his men went for their blasters. Mando and (Y/N) reacted faster, and they shot down the four men, leaving Vane alone in the street.

            “Get out of here, Vane. Now,” said Karga. Vane obeyed and ran.

            “Sure you wanna let him go?” asked Mando.

            “He’ll let it be known that Nevarro is respectable now and not to be trifled with,” said Karga. He turned to his droid. “Have the service droids scrub up out here.”

            “Yes, sir, right away,” said the droid.

            Karga sighed as they turned back to the square. “I gotta level with you, Mando. I need a Marshal.”

            “What happened to Cara?” asked (Y/N).

            “After she brought in Moff Gideon, she was recruited by Special Forces,” said Karga.

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. “What about Gideon?”

            “Ugh. He was sent off to a New Republic War Tribunal,” said Karga. “So, Mando…What do you say? You ready to put on the stripes and collect a healthy stipend? You’d make a very fine lawman.”

            “Why not request one from the New Republic?” asked Mando.

            Karga tsked. “The last thing we intend is to bow down to yet another far-off bureaucracy. No, under my watch, Nevarro will become the first truly independent trade anchor in this entire sector.”

            “I can’t serve as your Marshal,” said Mando.

            Karga sighed before raising his hands in mock-surrender. “I didn’t know you were here on business.” He chuckled. “What can we provide?”

            Mando pointed to IG-11. “I need him back.”

            Karga laughed. “IG-11 was destroyed on the lava river. This is just a statue.”

            “Those are his parts, right?” asked (Y/N).

            “What’s left of ‘em,” said Karga, shrugging. “We were lucky to recover any of his parts after he self-destructed.”

            “I need a droid I can trust to help us explore Mandalore, and he’s that droid,” said Mando.

            “Mando, we’ve got plenty of droids around here, we’ll find you one. I guarantee it,” said Karga.

            “Let me give it a shot,” said Mando.

            Karga shrugged. “Alright.” He turned to his droid. “Grab some help and pull down the top half.”

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            In Karga’s office, Mando began working on the remains of IG-11 on the table. (Y/N) handed him tools and quietly watched with Grogu. Sparks flew, but he seemed to be making progress.

            “There,” he said. “He’s hooked up to power. Let’s see if we can wake him up.” He reached out and fiddled with two more wires.

            Grogu, standing on the table, leaned over curiously with (Y/N) right behind him. Mando sighed as nothing happened and shook his head. (Y/N) perked up as IG’s fingers twitched. Next, his eyes lit up. He slowly sat up, even without his legs, and faced the group.

            Karga laughed. “There you go!”

            “Subparagraph sixteen-teen-teen.” IG’s voice glitched and distorted as he spoke. “…of the Bondsman Guild protocol waiver…Immediately produce said…”

            Grogu cooed and waved at IG.

            He saw (Y/N) and Grogu, and something activated. “The bounties are mine. Assets to be terminated.”

            IG shot out a hand, and Mando grabbed Grogu and pulled (Y/N) back. The droid was a bounty hunter again, no training from Kuiil in its code after death. It lunged after them, and Mando drew his blaster, keeping Grogu and (Y/N) protectively close and behind him.

            “Terminate assets. Terminate assets,” repeated IG as he dragged himself towards them with his one remaining arm. The blaster fire from Mando wasn’t stopping him. It grabbed (Y/N)’s ankle, and they jumped away.

            “Greef!” said Mando, and he tossed Grogu to the Magistrate and pulled (Y/N) back away.

            “Terminate asset!” repeated IG as it grabbed at (Y/N), and they kicked at it, not wanting to get closer.

            Mando shot at it, and IG pushed himself away. Karga’s droid pushed over a bust of Karga, and the statue landed on IG, crushing its head. IG stopped moving, and the group breathed a sigh of relief.

            “Now that’s using your head,” said Mando, and (Y/N) snorted. “I think he defaulted to his old programming.”

            “You think?” said Karga. Grogu cooed in agreement. Karga nodded.

            His droid spoke up. “Might I suggest taking the parts to some smiths?”

            Karga nodded. “Maybe some professional will make it…not want to kill us.”

l

            “That’s too big a job for you to do by yourself,” said Karga as he walked beside Mando and (Y/N). Mando pushed a cart filled with Ig’s parts, and Grogu happily rode within. “Fortunately, Nevarro has attracted the best droidsmiths of the Outer Rim. They’ll have IG back to his old self in no time.”

            “Are you sure they’re up to it?” asked Mando. “I don’t think I can handle him with all of his limbs if things go scud.”

            “Why don’t you ask ‘em for yourself?” suggested Karga, gesturing to the little door before them as a small alien waved at them.

            Grogu sized, thought (Y/N).

            “The Anzellans are fine droidsmiths,” said Karga.

            “What do you want?” asked the Anzellan in a thick dialect. Grogu saw him and cooed happily, excited to see someone his size.

            “Would you take a look at this droid, my friend?” asked Karga.

            The Anzellan glanced at the cart and gestured for them to load the parts in. Karga waited outside, but (Y/N) and Mando hunched over to fit within the workspace. Grogu happily walked about in a room made to fit him. Many Anzellans joined the first in looking over the scraps of IG, poking and prodding and examining each wire. They spoke in rapid Anzellan, and Mando and (Y/N) looked at each other. They had no idea what was going on, but (Y/N) sensed it wasn’t going to be good news.

            Sure enough, the Anzellan in charge sighed in disappointment and shook his head. “No. Can’t fix. No. No, no. Broken.”

            “Uh…okay,” said Mando.

            “The broken. It broke,” said the Anzellan. Unfortunately, he didn’t know enough Basic to explain the entire issue.

            “I don’t understand. Do you speak Huttese?” asked Mando.

            (Y/N) didn’t even bother asking about Ushti, such a small planet that no one but Ushti themselves spoke the language.

            “Mando, he said he can’t fix it,” translated Karga, crouching by the door.

            “That’s no good. I need this one. This one is my friend,” said Mando.

            “It’s not friend anymore,” managed the Anzellan. “Memory circuit broken.”

            “He says the memory circuit is shot,” said Karga.

            “No more,” said the Anzellan.

            “Well, put in a new one,” said Mando.

            “No, no, no, no. Not work,” said the Anzellan. “Don’t make a new one. Very hard to find.”

            “He said they don’t make ‘em anymore. They’re very hard to find,” said Karag.

            “We got it,” said (Y/N).

            “Buy new droid,” said the Anzellan. “This one poodoo.”

            “He says you should get a new one,” said Karga.

            Mando leveled a look at Karga, clear even through the helmet. He had understood. “Can you fix it without the memory circuit?”

            “Yes, but IG no think,” said the Anzellan.

            “What if we find the part?” asked (Y/N). Their group went on plenty of sidequests, so it was a possibility.

            “Okay, now. Then no problem. We fix,” said the Anzellan.

            “If you can get a new part, he says he can fix it,” said Karga.

            Mando gave another look at Karga, and in the split second he looked away, Grogu grabbed the Anzellan and hugged him tightly.

            “No, no, no, no!” repeated the Anzellan.

            “Grogu, no,” said Mando, trying to grab Grogu across the table. “He’s not a pet.”

            “No squeezie. Not squeeze!” said the Anzellan. Mando lifted him away from Grogu and put him down. “Not squeeze. Bad baby!”

            “Sorry about that. He’s young,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) smothered a laugh at Grogu’s disappointed expression. He looked at them and babbled in confusion. “Sorry, buddy. No squeeze.”

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            “We hope to see you soon,” said Karga as Grogu, (Y/N), and Mando clambered into the N-1 starfighter to depart Nevarro.

            “Keep IG-11 safe until we get back with that part,” said Mando.

            “If the Anzellans can’t find it, I don’t know who can,” said Karga. Mando just responded with a nod, and (Y/N) shrugged. “Safe travels.” He stepped back as the ship powered up. In another moment, the starfighter was lifting into the sky and out of Nevarro’s atmosphere.

l

            “Being a Mandalorian’s not just about learning how to fight, you also have to know how to navigate the galaxy because you never know where you might be headed next,” said Mando.

            Grogu sat on (Y/N)’s lap, and they were both leaning around the seat to watch Mando fly. These were the moments they really felt like a Clan. Mando was teaching them how to be a true Mandalorian, and although he never pushed the identity onto either Grogu or (Y/N), they both enjoyed the lessons, feeling closer to him. Not to mention, both didn’t mind being considered Mandalorian. For (Y/N), it was a more complicated feeling of having multiple identities that wanted to coexist, but that didn’t stop their heart from warming as Mando taught them more.

            “This here is your hyperspace map,” said Mando. “You determine your range by looking at your fuel gauge. And this—” the next viewscreen began beeping.

            “Let me guess, enemies?” asked (Y/N).

            “Yeah, enemy proximity warning indicator,” said Mando. “Hang on, we’ve got pirates.” Three ships appeared behind them.

            “Oh, we can get rid of Vane,” said (Y/N), grinning wildly.

            “Avast, Mandalorian, Ushti,” said Vane across the radio. “You can’t just sneak away after cuttin’ down four of my brothers in cold blood. We’re Pirate King Gorian Shard’s men, now you’ll answer to him!”

            “Gorian Shard should stick to hijacking and ransoming,” said Mando and promptly engaged the thrusters to fly forward into the asteroid belt.

            Grogu squealed as Mando evasively maneuvered through the asteroid belt as the pirates chased them. He excitedly put his hands in the air, and (Y/N) grinned as they spun through the air. That was until the scanner beeped again and three more ships appeared. They had a feeling they were heading into a trap. Mando spun through more asteroids to avoid the oncoming ships.

            “Buir, they’re putting us in a corner,” said (Y/N) as the Force hummed in warning. “Be ready.”

            Mando nodded, trusting their instincts. He flew around an asteroid and shot down a ship before continuing on. The other five converged on the N-1 as it continued on, firing all the while. They dropped behind a large asteroid, and as a ship passed, Mando fired, taking the pirate down. Four left as the N-1 flew out once more. The smaller craft had the maneuverability to dance around and destroyed a third pirate, spinning to create a small target to hit. As the three remaining pirates joined up to hunt the Mandalorian and Ushti together, Mando flew up behind them. With a solid shot, another ship exploded.

            Now the pirates were on the defensive, trying to fly ahead of the N-1 and avoid its firing. Unfortunately, they lacked the maneuverability and skill compared to Mando, and another pirate went down, careening into an asteroid. It was just Vane left as they flew towards the edge of the asteroid field.

            “Still have that feeling?” asked Mando.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), and Mando nodded. He’d be prepared.

            True to (Y/N)’s sensing, the N-1 rounded an asteroid and flew out in front of a cruiser. It was undoubtedly the Pirate King Gorian Shard’s. Vane’s ship flew to safety as Mando hovered before the cruiser as it rolled out its powerful ion cannons.

            “They have a target lock on us,” muttered Mando. He’d need to be quick to get them out.

            “Stop where you are, Mandalorian, Ushti,” said the Pirate King Gorian Shard over the radio. “You’re outgunned.”

            “We have no quarrel with you, Gorian Shard,” said Mando.

            “Ha! What a kind sentiment from two people who just destroyed four of my fighters!” cried Shard. “Surrender your ship, and I will spare your life!”

            No, you’ll kill us, thought (Y/N), rolling their eyes.

            “(Y/N), what do we say to that?” asked Mando.

            “Never trust a pirate,” said (Y/N).

            Mando smirked proudly beneath his helmet. “Exactly.” He flicked a button, and the N-1 jumped into hyperspace in a moment.

            They only came out of hyperspace above a planet of a combination of woods, mountains, and oceans.

            “Where are we?” asked (Y/N).

            “This is Kalevala,” said Mando. “It’s a planet in the Mandalorian system.” They began their descent towards what could only be described as a castle. “And that is a Mandalorian castle.”

            (Y/N) looked down, and their mind flashed back to their vision with Mandalore the Great. They had seen Mandalore at its prime, and this castle was a clear symbol of the past, the architecture a miniaturized version of the edifices on Mandalore.

            (Y/N) recovered from the memory and asked quickly, “Is Bo-Katan here?”

            Mando nodded as they touched down. The three of them disembarked from the N-1 and walked towards the castle entrance. Grogu cooed from where he floated beside them as they approached a tall droid. It was silent as they walked by, seeing no threat as it scanned them.

            Mando led them into a long hall of grey stone. Banners of House Kryze hung from various pillars, but the entire castle seemed dead, uninhabited. Even Bo-Katan, who should appear proud and self-assured, especially atop an ornate throne, appeared despondent as the group approached. She watched (Y/N), Mando, and Grogu in cold silence as they arrived at the bottom of her dais.

            “Bo-Katan. It is Din Djarin,” said Mando.

            “And (Y/N),” said the Ushti.

            “I am here to join you,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) understood the idea. Bo-Katan spoke of retaking Mandalore, and going with a group if they couldn’t go with IG would make it safer to find the Living Waters so that Mando could be redeemed.

            “There’s nothing left to join,” said Bo-Katan.

            “What of your plans to retake Mandalore?” asked Mando.

            “When I returned without the Darksaber, my forces melted away,” said Bo-Katan.

            (Y/N) was distinctly aware that they and Mando had beaten Gideon, therefore not allowing Bo-Katan to win the Darksaber.

            “Where is the stolen fleet?” asked (Y/N).

            “Making their way through the galaxy as mercenaries,” replied Bo-Katan. Her tone didn’t deviate from passive despondency, dulled from loneliness and broken dreams. “Do you, Din Djarin, still have the saber?”

            “I do,” admitted Mando.

            “Then you lead them,” said Bo-Katan. “Wave that thing around, and they’ll do whatever you say.”

            Mando’s shoulders slumped in frustration as another lead was buried. “So you gave up your designs to retake Mandalore?”

            “Your cult gave up on Mandalore long before the Purge,” retorted Bo-Katan, struggling to keep her tone at all civilized. “Where were you then? The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before fractured and shattered our people.”

            “The Jedi and Mandalorians have lost who they were. Neither should repeat the mistakes of the past.”

            Mandalore the Great had warned (Y/N) that the Mandalorians had been destroyed by their people fracturing and not accepting one another. Bo-Katan’s accusations that Mando’s covert betrayed Mandalore and Mando’s inability to completely accept Bo-Katan as a Mandalorian without a helmet were examples of how the Mandalorians needed to avoid those differences destroying them again.

            (Y/N) had a strange feeling weight on them as they realized how things were coming full circle. The Force hummed, and they were distinctly aware of the Darksaber somehow lightly whispering even though it was deactivated. Both seemed aware of something that (Y/N), Grogu, Mando, and Bo-Katan were not yet.

            “Go home,” said Bo-Katan. “There’s nothing left.”

            “I am going to Mandalore so that I may bathe in the Living Waters and be forgiven for my transgressions,” said Mando with calm determination.

            “You are a fool,” said Bo-Katan. “There’s nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore. They supplied beskar ore to our ancestors, and the rest is superstition. The planet has been ravaged, plundered, and poisoned.”

            “You said that the curse was a lie,” said Mando. “Make up your mind.”

            “If you want to go to the mines, be my guest,” said Bo-Katan. “They’re beneath the civic center in the city of Sundari.”

            “Thank you,” said Mando. “And I will find out if the plant is really poisoned.” He turned and walked away, Grogu floating with them.

            “Goodbye, Din Djarin, (Y/N),” said Bo-Katan simply.

            (Y/N) paused before they left and looked up at Bo-Katan. “You want to lead the Mandalorians back to honor and respect. Don’t repeat the mistakes of the past.” They turned and left, leaving the words of Mandalore the Great behind them.

Chapter Text

            Mando slowly descended into Hangar Three-Five as Peli looked up as the group arrived in Mos Eisley on Tatooine to see if Peli Motto could find the part they needed for IG.

            “Whoo-hoo! You hear that? She’s purring like a nuzzle shrew!” Peli happily looked over her work as the N-1 shut off and the canopy opened.

            “No complaints,” said Mando. “Still faster than I know what to do with.”

            “Well, I’ll tune her up just the same,” said Peli. “So, uh, where’re my buddies?”

            “Still here,” said (Y/N), poking their head out. Grogu, much more excitedly, cooed and Force-jumped to Peli’s arms.

            Peli grinned and caught him. “Now who taught you to leap like a lurmen, huh?” Grogu babbled, and Peli gasped as Mando and (Y/N) climbed out of the N-1. “Was that his first word? I think he’s talking to me! Did you hear that? He said ‘Peli’!”

            “I’m here on business,” said Mando.

            “Oh, are the Hutts back? Are you takin’ out Boba Fett?” asked Peli, expecting some drama.

            “No, we like him,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            “We need a droid part,” said Mando.

            “Uh. Bo-ring,” said Peli. She called back to her droids. “Hey, get the Jawas back in here before they hit the cantina!” She glanced back at Mando and (Y/N). “You know how Mos Eisley gets during Boonta week.”

            “We’re looking for a replacement IG memory circuit,” explained Mando.

            “Oh, hey, Grandpa,” teased Peli. “They haven’t made those for a while.” They were interrupted as several Jawas ran into the hangar, and Peli spoke to them. “Memory circuit.” The Jawas shook their heads and shrugged, and Peli frowned at Mando. “Sorry, pal, no chance cubes.”

            “They can’t find the part?” asked Mando. “I need the part now.”

            “Which is why I think you should buy this beauty here!” said Peli, slapping her R5 unit on the head.

            “I can’t use an astromech,” said Mando. “I need a droid that’s rated for spelunking.”

            “Spelunking? What are you spelunking?” asked Peli.

            “We’re going to Mandalore,” said (Y/N).

            “We need a droid that can explore ahead of us and test the atmosphere, make sure it’s safe to breathe,” said Mando.

            “Okay, well—” R5 attempted to nervously scoot away, but Peli caught him. “Uh-uh-uh. Hey! Get right back here. Right back here, scaredy droid. Come on now, you gotta shine.” She cleared her throat. “This R5 astromech is built for adventure.” The droid beeped, but Peli waved a hand. “’Course you are. You’re supposed to be piloting starfighters across the galaxy and fighting tyranny.”

            “It’s falling apart, and besides, I got no room for it on the N-1,” said Mando.

            “Nonsense, R5-D4 is as good as the day he came back from serving the rebellion,” said Peli. “And I’ll reinstall your droid port, and this little baby here can even co-pilot.” R5 trembled, and Peli gave him a look. “Hey, if you don’t settle your bolts, I’ll sell you back to the Jawas.” She laughed as she turned back to Mando and (Y/N). “And because it’s Boonta, what I’m gonna do is I’m gonna give you this for half the price and throw in a free oil bath.”

            She’s really working hard for this one, thought (Y/N).

            And sure enough, as night fell and Peli finished reinstalling the droid port, R5 was loaded up into it, and even though his anxiety was through the roof, he had no choice but to fly off with Mando, (Y/N), and Grogu.

l

            After seeing visions of Mandalore, (Y/N) was expecting much more than a gray planet with swirling clouds darkening its atmosphere as they approached, but they supposed the Empire had been determined to destroy all hope of civilization for the Mandalorians on their home planet. Grogu whined slightly in trepidation.

            “It looks scary. I know,” said Mando. “But it was once green and beautiful, back when the songs were written.”

            “It was…” murmured (Y/N), remembering their vision.

            “It’s Mandalore, the homeworld of our people,” said Mando.

            Our people. (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat.

            “Every Mandalorian can trace their roots back to this planet and the beskar mines deep within,” said Mando.

            “And no one’s been there in years?” asked (Y/N).

            Mando shook his head. “There have been rumors of explorers, but nothing definitive.”

            “So where did you grow up with the covert?” asked (Y/N).

            Mando pointed to a moon. “I grew up there. Concordia.” He gestured to the map. “Kalevala is in the same system, all are connected.” He glanced back at (Y/N). “A Mandalorian has to understand maps. It’s important so we can make our way in the world.” (Y/N) nodded in understanding. “Then, you’ll never be lost, Verd’ika.” (Y/N) blinked, unsure of how to respond. Luckily, the lesson was finished, and the N-1 dove down towards the surface of Mandalore.

            The storms raging in the atmosphere rumbled around the N-1. The ship shook as it shot downward, trying to break free of the torrential winds. The display of the N-1 glitched, flashing brilliantly as the atmosphere faulted its readings of the world around the ship. Rain streaked the windows, obscuring the view as alarms beeped.

            But then they broke free, and the sun shone through the clouds to the scarred land below, and the N-1 was in the clear. Even broken and injured, Mandalore’s natural beauty was evident, even if hidden below destruction. (Y/N) could easily imagine the grand cities that used to rise into the skies around them.

            “Looks like the fusion bombs from the Purge disrupted the magnetic field around the planet,” said Mando, tapping the display until the charts came back up as the atmospheric disturbances halted.

            “We won’t be able to communicate with anyone outside the atmosphere,” remarked (Y/N), and Mando nodded. No help if anything happened. They’d have to be careful.

            Mando landed the N-1 in a small clearing of smooth rock. “R5, you ready? I’m gonna need you to scout ahead and analyze the atmosphere.”

            R5 beeped and shook his head.

            “That wasn’t a question,” said (Y/N).

            R5 let out a sound that resembled a sigh of fear before Mando released him to the surface of Mandalore.

            “Go over to that split in the rock and take an air sample of the ruins below,” said Mando through the comms.

            R5 beeped nervously as he rolled away towards the outcropping.

            “He’ll be fine,” said Mando. “I just need him to take some readings to make sure it’s safe.”

            R5 stopped before the rocks and turned around to beep.

            “Don’t be a baby,” said Mando. “Just get the sample we need, and hurry up.”

            R5 beeped in disappointment and rolled around the outcropping, disappearing from view.

            “Can we track R5 in case something happens?” asked (Y/N).

            Mando nodded and pointed to a screen. A small red dot, R5, was moving through the radius around the ship. Suddenly, the dot disappeared. Grogu gasped, and (Y/N) blinked. If something had injured R5, that didn’t spell well for them.

            “R5, come in,” said Mando urgently. “Do you read me?”

            Grogu whined as static came through the radio.

            “It’s probably just interference,” said Mando.

            “That’s optimistic,” muttered (Y/N), and Grogu babbled in agreement.

            Mando sighed. “Fine. I’ll go get him. Normally, this is droid work. I was hoping to avoid going out there. I’ll pressurize my helmet and leave you two here. Stay inside.” He quickly left the ship, leaving (Y/N) and Grogu to watch him.

            Grogu babbled and looked up at (Y/N). They nodded and held him closer. They had the same feeling that something was off. They could only hope Mando could handle anything that appeared.

            For several anxious minutes, Grogu and (Y/N) watched the rocks until finally, finally!, Mando appeared, and his adike breathed a sigh of relief. They perked up, expecting Mando to let them up, but he raised a hand.

            “Not until I check the toxicity,” he said, already knowing that his kids were trying to escape. He looked at R5. “You got on analysis on the atmosphere yet?”

            R5 trilled and projected his readings into the air.

            “The charts were wrong…” breathed Mando in pleasant surprised. “The atmosphere is breathable.”

            So why was everyone saying it wasn’t? Was it a rumor or… The Force hummed in warning, and (Y/N) had a feeling something else was going on.

            “Bo-Katan is right. Mandalore is not cursed,” said Mando. This was an incredible discovery for all types of Mandalorians.

            (Y/N) didn’t waste anymore time and opened the canopy to hop out of the N-1. Grogu excitedly jumped into Mando’s arms to be placed in his cradle. R5 happily went back into his port while the Mandalorian, Ushti, and…Green Guy walked back towards the cave Mando had found with the city of Sundari housed below.

            “There are strange creatures living below the surface,” warned Mando, drawing his blaster. “I don’t want to leave you by the ship on your own with them around, but be careful, alright?”

            (Y/N) nodded and drew their own blaster as they crept into the mouth of the cave. Their breath caught as they stood at the edge of the cavern. The ruins of the city of Sundari stretched out below them. It shone green from the fusion rays that had destroyed it, but it still showed the grand beauty of Mandalore from years past. (Y/N) felt their heart beat a little quicker as they imagined what Mandalore could become again if, as Mandalore the Great said, they didn’t make the mistakes of the past.

            “That’s the civic center,” said Mando, gesturing to a particular building.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Bo-Katan said the mines were beneath it.”

            “Right. I’ll carry you down—”

            (Y/N) jumped off the side of the cliff, landing on a small ledge below. With the Force softening each leap, they were able to make their way down. Mando blinked and sighed at the near-heart attack (Y/N) had given him by jumping off a cliff. Mando activated his jetpack and flew down beside (Y/N) in case anything did happen, and Grogu’s cradle floated down. They descended through the ruins, each dark corner threatening to possess enemies, but no one appeared as Mando and Grogu flew and (Y/N) leapt from ruin to ruin.

            Mando paused on an old walking path, and (Y/N) landed beside him. They peered over the edge to see a long tunnel continuing to burrow into the surface of Mandalore.

            “The mines should be further down,” said Mando. “You still doing alright, Verd’ika?”

            (Y/N) grinned. “Yep.”

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet. (Y/N) had grown so much, and they were talented and strong. He was proud of his ad’ika. “Then let’s go.”

            Mando and (Y/N) leapt off the landing again, and Grogu floated down with them as they made their way down through the tunnel. Finally, they landed on the ground, with a light splash as a puddle was disturbed beneath their feet. Mando glanced around and then led the way into another tunnel. His helmet’s flashlight lit up, and Grogu’s cradle headlights turned on. Slowly, the three walked through the tunnel, keeping their weapons out in case any creatures jumped out. The only sound was their footsteps and the batter of water as it dripped to the tunnel floor below.

            “These waters should flow to the mines and the Living Waters within,” said Mando.

            Grogu whined as they continued through the dark tunnel, and (Y/N) stayed by his side. They felt the same trepidation. The Force hummed happily as they approached the mines, a good sign spiritually. (Y/N) was beginning to understand Mandalore the Great’s words. The Way and the Force, many cultures had words for the same idea, and although Mandalore revered the Living Waters and the Way, the Force, connecting all living beings, seemed to course through this world just as much as anywhere else, and similarly to the seeing stone, it converged somewhere in this cave system.

            “That passage continues down,” said Mando, breaking the silence as he headed into the next path. He was quiet and kept his blaster close in case something appeared. So far, nothing, and (Y/N) followed.

            However, as they continued, they found strange scraps of metal strewn across the path. Mando paused every so often to examine the floor to figure out what had caused it, but so far, no signs. He knelt and brushed at a mound of dirt, exposing an abandoned Mandalorian helmet.

            Snap!

            A mechanism was triggered, and a large caged closed around Mando as Grogu and (Y/N) jumped back. A bionic droid lifted up from the ground, Mando trapped in a cage on its back, red eyes glowing malevolently. Mando groaned and tried to fight against the tight cage trapping his limbs. The robot chittered as it looked around, and (Y/N) pushed Grogu closer to them behind a rock to avoid being seen. If all of them were caught, that would mean no one could rescue them. No one would know they’re down there, kidnapped by strange cyborg creatures.

            (Y/N) and Grogu watched as the droid walked away with Mando and slowly followed to see where it took him. They followed it to a roof where many Mandalorian helmets were abandoned on the floor. The cage holding Mando was situated on a spit, and the creature, half mechanical-half alive, clambered out of the droid it had been piloting. It was tall and spindly, towering over them all as it glared around itself dangerously. It held a staff of crackling electricity, and it reached between the bars to pull Mando’s blaster away, then the Darksaber. Mando groaned, clearly drugged in some way. The bionic creature stalked away to work with some more of its strange tech.

            Grogu and (Y/N) crept closer to Mando’s cage to try to free him while the creature was distracted. Carefully, (Y/N) reached up to the cage’s lock to work on opening it. Unfortunately, the lock just clicked loudly, and the creature jerked towards the sound.

            “Get back to Bo-Katan,” said Mando weakly. “Be careful, adike…” He knew they were strong, but he didn’t want to risk them getting injured more than needed, so it was better to get help.

            (Y/N)’s brow creased, frustrated at being unable to help him, but they nodded. “I promise, we’ll be back.”

            They turned, scooped up Grogu, and ran as the creature fired its electric staff at them. They tossed Grogu to his cradle, and he flipped into it. He sped off down the corridor, and (Y/N) was right on his heels. They ran through the passages, and even as a crocodile creature with wings jumped out, (Y/N) just shot it down before leaping up into the tunnel upwards as Grogu flew up. They rose through the tunnel and the city until they reached the cave they had entered through.

            A large creature landed in front of them, and (Y/N) and Grogu drew up short. It growled and ran at them, and Grogu threw out a hand. The Force-push sent the creature flying, and as they continued running past, (Y/N) shot it to ensure it wouldn’t follow.

            “R5! Start the engines!” ordered (Y/N) as they ran towards the ship.

            They and Grogu jumped and flipped into their seats, with (Y/N) taking Mando’s pilot seat and Grogu sitting in theirs all alone.

            “Get us back to Kalevala,” said (Y/N), copying the movements Mando made to start the flight of the N-1. We’re coming, Buir.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

            (Y/N) stumbled to their knees. The world spun around them as it righted itself, and their hands and knees scuffed across the rocky ground beneath them. Groaning and blinking to focus the world around them, (Y/N) looked up. They were in the hall of the Living Waters again, back on shore. Mando, Bo-Katan, and Grogu were nowhere to be seen.

            “Quite a change in setting this time, Mando’ika,” said a familiar calm, smooth voice.

            (Y/N) turned to see Mandalore the Great standing above them. They quickly stood and stared the first Manda’lor, still watching the Ushti behind a bronze-painted helmet of pure beskar. Mandalore the Great didn’t speak as they walked by (Y/N) to the water’s edge, their orange robes swirling like embers behind them as they moved.

            “I worried this place would be lost to time,” said Mandalore the Great as they gazed out at the calm waters rippling below.

            (Y/N) shook their head. “No. Bo-Katan knew where it was.”

            “Good. It is important to remember our roots. We have lost too much of ourselves to foolishness already,” said Mandalore the Great. They tilted their helmeted head back towards (Y/N). “Join me.”

            (Y/N) approached the water’s edge. They felt no fear with Mandalore the Great; the Mand’alor had never tried to hurt them and had in fact given them valuable guidance. (Y/N) would heed their words.

            “What am I supposed to see?” asked (Y/N), looking down at the undulating water at their feet.

            “The water is like a person’s heart,” said Mandalore the Great. “Allowed to flow freely, it creates its own path, carving through the world with innate power, finding the place it belongs in. And no matter how many years we live, people can never full master it. From torrential rains to freezing blizzards to waves that capsize the vessels, we seek to control the waters and never do.”

            “Is that why these waters became important to you and your people?” asked (Y/N). “Because of all you went through to create your society?”

            “Partly,” acknowledged Mandalore the Great. “But you must admit, you feel the energy converging here. Indeed, you are experiencing its power at this moment.”

            “That’s a mild way to put it,” murmured (Y/N).

            Mandalore the Great chuckled lightly before continuing. “I sensed the energy of these waters as well when I found them.”

              (Y/N) sighed and turned to face Mandalore the Great as they gazed at the Living Waters. “Look, I…Thank you for your guidance from before. It helped.”

            “You’re welcome, Mando’ika.” (Y/N) had the distinct impression Mandalore the Great was smiling beneath their helmet.

            “I’m not always sure what I’m doing, but I’m trying to listen to your advice,” said (Y/N).

            “That is all I ask,” said the Mand’alor. “You are finding your Way, and that, in turn will allow you to live up to your potential.”

            “You talk about my potential,” said (Y/N), shifting. “What is so…‘great’ about my potential?” (Y/N) stared at Mandalore’s helmet, wishing they could see their expression and understand their thoughts.

            “You are one of many ways, many paths,” said Mandalore the Great. “Mandalore is coming to a crossroads, and I fear our people’s quarrels will tear them apart before the real fight begins.”

            (Y/N)’s brow creased. “Are the Mandalorians in danger?”

            “I am unsure,” admitted Mandalore the Great.

            “And I’m meant to…help somehow?” said (Y/N).

            “The world can always use help,” said Mandalore the Great. Their voice was grave when they continued. “But something dark hangs over Mandalore, growing as we speak. You must be prepared to fight.”

            (Y/N) swallowed.

            “Trust in yourself,” said Mandalore the Great. “You are stronger than you realize.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes turned back to the waters. They enjoyed a fight, but they worried for Mandalore and their buir. “What if I can’t do it, what if I can’t protect my family?”

            Mandalore the Great was quiet for a moment. “I once faced a creature no one thought could be tamed. However, I mastered it.”

            “The mythosaur?” asked (Y/N).

            Mandalore the Great nodded and began to shed their robes from their armor as they continued. “From that experience, I learned that patience and a strong heart are the traits most valuable to a leader. A single defeat is nothing if you stand back up to fight another day."

            “I’m not leader,” said (Y/N).

            Mandalore the Great was silent, and (Y/N) felt that something interesting would be expressed on their face if only they could see it.

            “Maybe not now,” remarked Mandalore the Great. Was that amusement in their voice? “But everyone can be served well by patience and a strong heart.” They wore only their armor now, and (Y/N) watched as they descended into the waters, step by solemn step until the waters closed over them.

            (Y/N) frowned and watched the waters calmly sway in the cavern. Taking a deep breath (and briefly wondering what they’re thinking), (Y/N) stepped out into the water. It rose to their waist as they waded downwards. They paused at the edge of the shallow water, the underwater cliff where Mando had fallen rested just before them. (Y/N) closed their eyes and stepped out. The water closed over their head.

            They tensed, expected a sense of fear to overpower them, but they just felt…peace.

            Open your eyes, Mando’ika.

l

            (Y/N)’s eyes snapped open. They could sense reality had returned to them, but their mind spun as they jerked back in the water.

            An eye, large as their head, stared back at them. Large tusks curved through the water below. A mythosaur.

            As they stared in shock, a flashlight beam appeared behind them. Bo-Katan, hauling Mando up with her, had appeared. She too gasped as the mythosaur turned away in the water. Shocked, Bo-Katan wrapped a hand around (Y/N)’s middle and shot up with her jetpack to pull them and Mando out of the water.

            They shot out of the water and collapsed on the rough stone. Mando and (Y/N) coughed, and (Y/N) shook their head as the vestiges of their mind once again leaving them trailed with them. Grogu whimpered in concern. He hopped out of his cradle and waddled over to Mando and (Y/N) to check on them. Mando and (Y/N) sat up as the water finally left them system. Bo-Katan just sat staring at the Living Waters, shocked at what she had seen.

            “I am redeemed,” said Mando, voice hoarse with water and relief.

            “We witnessed it,” said (Y/N). When I wasn’t having a vision of Mandalore the Great.

            Bo-Katan nodded sharply. “You bathed in the Living Waters. You are Mandalorian again.” Her helmet still rested on her head. “Can we leave now?” Her voice was clipped, unsure of herself.

            Mando filled a capsule with a sample of the Living Waters. He turned to (Y/N). “Are you alright?”

            (Y/N) nodded. “I just got in some trouble trying to grab you when you went under.”

            “They went unconscious as soon as they hit the water for some reason, so I dove in,” said Bo-Katan.

            Mando turned to (Y/N). “Don’t worry. I’m alright. You don’t need to risk yourself for me, alright?” he said, reaching out and brushing their cheek affectionately.

            (Y/N) nodded. But I will.

            Bo-Katan paused as they moved towards the doors. “Can I ask you something?”

            “What is it?” asked Mando as he put Grogu back in his cradle.

            “You see anything down there?” asked Bo-Katan, attempting to be casual.

            “I saw the chasm passing me as I fell,” said Mando. “I didn’t realize it was so deep.”

            “It wasn’t. The bombings from the Purge must have triggered seismic activities,” said Bo-Katan. She was silent once more. “Did you see anything…alive?”

            She saw the mythosaur, realized (Y/N).

            “Alive? Like what?” asked Mando.

            “Nothing,” said Bo-Katan. “Let’s get out of here.”

            Mando nodded and walked by with Grogu. As (Y/N) passed Bo-Katan, they glanced up at her.

            “I saw it, too,” they murmured before quickly following after Mando.

            Bo-Katan stared after them before looking back at the Living Waters. Whatever she had seen wasn’t a trick of her mind, then.

l

            Bo-Katan’s ship flew into the air, and Mando, Grogu, (Y/N), and Bo-Katan watched as Mandalore grew smaller behind them as they returned to Kalevala. Once there, Mando could retrieve the N-1 and return to his covert, a redeemed Mandalorian.

            “Bring me to my ship, and we’ll be on our way,” said Mando. “You will forever have my gratitude.”

            “I would invite you in for a feast, but I’m guessing that helmet isn’t coming off again,” said Bo-Katan. She spoke in amusement, but (Y/N) had noted that Bo-Katan hadn’t removed her helmet yet, either.

            I think after seeing the mythosaur, she’s having a little bit of a crisis in religious views, thought (Y/N). They frowned. Those were some of the “foolish” issues Mandalore the Great had warned them that their people had killed each other over. Hopefully, this could be the beginning of some sort of understanding and reconciliation between different Mandalorian sects.

            (Y/N) themself had debated telling Mando about seeing the mythosaur, but they decided to wait. The whole vision thing was strange enough as it was, but the fact that twice now they had seen Mandalore the Great instead of a Jedi as a Jedi (or at least Force-Sensitive) themself just felt odd. Indeed, (Y/N) still wasn’t sure if they were meant to. Mandalore the Great’s words were helpful, but their advice seemed better suited for a proper Mandalorian like (Y/N)’s buir or even Bo-Katan. They weren’t sure what their place was, so they remained hesitant to explain the whole thing. How could they? “Oh, yeah, hi Mandalorians, Mandalore the Great talks to me, a part-Jedi part-Ushti not-really-Mandalorian teenager, and not to you guys, Mandalorians who walk the Way.”

            Yeah, (Y/N) wasn’t sure how well that would go down, so until they had the right words, they would remain quiet. However, they wouldn’t let their hesitance hold them back. Mandalore the Great had warned them that Mandalore was in danger. If explaining their visions helped Mando and the rest of the Mandalorians, (Y/N) would do it, even if people thought they were crazy.

            Hopefully, Bo-Katan would admit she was the mythosaur, and then (Y/N) could too without seeming crazy. That had to be a significant sight in itself, even discounting Mandalore the Great. The mythosaur was a great symbol of Mandalore. To see one after the Purge and Mandalore’s destruction had to mean something. (Y/N) sincerely hoped it was a sign that Mandalore would rise to glory once more, stronger than ever.

            Until then, though, the Mandalorians would have to avoid the mistakes of the past. And (Y/N) hoped that Bo-Katan considering the validity of beliefs separate from hers, even if she decided to return to her own Way and not cover her face permanently, would allow the chasm of beliefs to be breached.

            “This is the Way,” said Mando to Bo-Katan, and it mirrored (Y/N)’s thoughts of how the Way was complex and intrinsic to each person.

            “This is the Way,” said Bo-Katan, finally allowing herself to say the words in response.

            (Y/N)’s hope seemed to have some validity. This is the Way, they thought, still unsure if they would be allowed to say it as a non-Mandalorian.

            Grogu seemed far more confident and babbled in a cadence that oddly resembled the pattern of syllables that created “This is the Way.” (Y/N), Bo-Katan, and Mando stared at him, and he smiled widely.

            Maybe Grogu will solve religious issues. That would help, thought (Y/N) in amusement.

            Bang!

            An explosion rocked the ship and knocked all the inhabitants from their thoughts.

            “We took a hit,” said Mando, turning to his console display.

            “Something’s coming up on us fast,” warned Bo-Katan. “It looks like a squadron of TIE interceptors.”

            Of course the Empire remnants are still causing trouble, thought (Y/N), their hand curling around their beskar Ushti dagger.

            “How close are we to Kalevala?” asked Mando.

            “Not far,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Get us back there, and I’ll reinforce from the N-1,” said Mando. “Can you evade them and keep the kids safe?”

            “Your shields aren’t gonna hold. I need you to back them off,” said Bo-Katan.

            “I’ll take the guns so Mando can get to the N-1,” said (Y/N), jumping up and sitting down in the gunner’s chair. They fired at the six TIE fighters tailing them, but the small ships evaded as they flew into Kalevala’s atmosphere.

            “Where’d they come from?” questioned Mando.

            “I’ve scugged off a lot of imperial warlords,” said Bo-Katan. “They tend to get mad when you hijack their ships.”

            Weird timing that it happened right after we left Mandalore, which isn’t cursed like people claim, thought (Y/N). They had no time to ponder that thought, however, as the TIE fighters continued attacking and they kept firing back.

            Bo-Katan flew close to her palace, skimming over the water. “Get ready, Din, we’re coming in hot,” she warned. “I won’t be able to slow down for the drop.”

            Mando nodded, and as he did, (Y/N) landed a hit. The ship careened into another, and both exploded. “Two down!” they reported.

            “Are you still up for the transfer?” asked Bo-Katan, looking back at Mando.

            He stood at the doors. “I don’t see any other choice.”

            Grogu eeped and closed his cradle around himself. Mando took a deep breath and jumped through the hatch of the ship. His jetpack activated as he fell, and he flew the N-1 as Bo-Katan pulled back of the ship controls to gain height as they flew towards the mountains of Kalevala. One TIE interceptors broke away from the group to follow him as the others continued chase Bo-Katan.

            Bo-Katan led them in a chase through the mountainous cliffs, skimming closer to the ground than was comfortable. (Y/N) focused on firing back at the TIE interceptors following them as R5 beeped nervously.

            “Don’t worry, I grew up flying these cliffs,” said Bo-Katan.

            As if to demonstrate, she sharply turned into a canyon, and one of the TIE-fighters, unable to anticipate the move, crashed into the wall.

            “Of course, it’s been a while,” admitted Bo-Katan, not breaking her concentration.

            (Y/N) fired backwards, and at the same moment, the N-1 fired down at the same TIE interceptor. The shots hit their target, and the interceptor exploded.

            “Thanks for the backup, Buir!” said (Y/N).

            “One more to go,” said Mando. “Watch them, Verd’ika.”

            Bo-Katan weaved through the cliffs jutting out of the see, evading the shots of the TIE interceptor. “Go right. I’ll meet you on the other side.” They split at a cliff, and as they circled around each other, (Y/N) and Mando fired, taking down the last interceptor.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N), slamming their hand on the console.

            “Not bad for an antique,” remarked Bo-Katan as the two ships slowed and turned back towards the direction of her castle.

            “You take any damage?” asked Mando.

            “Just shields. You?” questioned Bo-Katan.

            “Not a scratch,” said Mando.

            “Let’s take ‘em in just to be sure,” said Bo-Katan. She glanced back at (Y/N). “Nice shooting.”

            “I was taught by the best,” said (Y/N) as they got up and returned to the front of the ship.. Mando smiled beneath his helmet.

            Before the conversation could continue, an alarm beeped.

            “Hang on, I’m seeing something on the scope,” said Mando.

            An explosion echoed through the air, and all heads turned in the direction. A plume of smoke rose into the sky across the mountains. It was right where Bo-Katan’s palace lay. (Y/N)’s heart dropped.

            “No!” exclaimed Bo-Katan, and she pushed her ship faster towards her castle.

            Another squadron of imperial ships was bombing the building, reducing it to smoking debris. Another Mandalorian home destroyed by the Empire.

            “Those mudscuffers bombed my home!” shouted Bo-Katan angrily. She flew after the three interceptors leaving the sight of destruction. She fired a missile, and it demolished a TIE interceptor in a single hit.

            “Bo, we’ve got company,” warned Mando as more enemies dotted his scope. His heart dropped. There were too many, and if Bo-Katan went headlong into a fight she couldn’t, she would not only lose her own life but lose Grogu and (Y/N)’s in the process. And Mando couldn’t lose his adike. “Bo, listen to me. You have to get out of there.”

            “Bo,” said (Y/N), leaning towards her as they saw the many, many imperial ships emerge from the clouds. “We have to leave. Live to fight another day for Mandalore.”

            Bo-Katan was silent before nodding sharply and turning her ship. She and Mando reared to the side and flew up into the galaxy. (Y/N) glanced at the destruction they were leaving behind them. The Empire had hurt a Mandalorian home once again. This had to end soon. These cruel warlords needed to be stopped.

            “Something dark hangs over Mandalore, growing as we speak.”

            I won’t let Mandalore die, swore (Y/N) quietly.

Chapter Text

            “I’m bringing us to a Mandalorian covert,” explained Mando as he descended into the desert canyons he had left not long ago on his quest for redemption. It felt exhilarating to be returning triumphant. He would once again be part of his Creed and covert. “This is how we have survived in exile.”

            “I’m familiar,” said Bo-Katan.

            “It’s a secret location, and you are my guest,” said Mando to Bo-Katan.

            “They still live by the old ways,” remarked Bo-Katan.

            “Yes. It will go smoother if you keep your helmet on. Trust me,” said Mando. “(Y/N) and Grogu have taken no Creed and are my foundlings, so they don’t have to worry, but you are Mandalorian.”

            Bo-Katan scoffed. “Of course.”

            They’re all still hesitant to accept their differences in their beliefs, thought (Y/N). Maybe actually getting to see that they can work together and be friends will help. They sighed grumpily. Why did Mandalore the Great have to make them understand so much responsibility?

            The two ships landed beside a lake and the mouth of a cave. Bo-Katan, Grogu in his cradle, and (Y/N) walked out of her ship as Mando disembarked the N-1. Undoubtedly, their presences had already been noted. Indeed, Paz Viszla was watching them from the entrance of the cave. He walked into the open, and a group of Mandalorians emerged with him. Mando stood next to his adike. He didn’t fear that the Mandalorians would harm two foundlings, innocent of any wrongdoings against the Mandalorians, but he couldn’t help but be protective.

            “Come no further,” said Paz as the group approached. “You are an apostate, Din Djarin.”

            “No longer,” said Mando. “I have been to the mines of Mandalore.”

            “Impossible,” said Paz. “The mines were collapsed in the Purge. The planet is cursed.”

            “These are lies meant to keep us in exile,” said Mando.

            “How do we know that it is not you who are lying?” challenged Paz.

            “Because he is honorable,” said (Y/N), stepping up beside their buir. The desert sun slanted over their eyes, darkening the contrast of their skin and their Ushti markings. They stared firmly at Paz. “Grogu cooed in eager agreement.

            Bo-Katan nodded. “I witnessed it.”

            “And who are you, Nite Owl?” questioned Paz.

            Bo-Katan stood straight as she addressed Paz. “I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze.”

            “Your house has fallen from the Way. You are both apostates,” said Paz.

            “I witnessed them both in the Living Waters,” said (Y/N). “Does that satisfy you?”

            Paz faced them, large and imposing. “You are Din Djarin’s Ushti foundling.”

            “Yes,” said (Y/N), standing firm. “And I say Bo-Katan and my bui—Din Djarin are not lying. They have bathed in the Living Waters.” I did, too, but that was mostly an accident.

            Except when you went in willingly in your vision, came an unbidden thought that (Y/N) promptly pushed away.

            The Mandalorians murmured to one another, unsure what to think. Mando removed the flask of Living Water from his hip and held it out.

            “I bring proof,” he said.

            “We shall see,” said Paz. The group of Mandalorians parted to let Grogu, (Y/N), Mando, and Bo-Katan walk in. They would face the Armorer, who would test their proof.

            Mando led them calmly to where the Armorer stood at her furnace, calmly forging new armor.

            “Din Djarin claims to have bathed in the Living Waters,” said Paz.

            “Is this true?” asked the Armorer.

            “It is. I have proof,” said Mando. He extended the flask once more.

            The Armorer turned and smoothly took the sample.

            “I was witness,” said Bo-Katan. “He and his Ushti foundlings, (Y/N), fell to the depths, and I pulled them out.”

            Even through the helmets, (Y/N) could feel eyes turned on them. They were a stranger, just a foundling of an apostate who may have redeemed himself. They had taken no creed, wore no armor, and carried beskar as a weapon. For them to have bathed in the Living Waters, a symbol of Mandalore’s religion, was unheard of.

            The Armorer did not speak, though (Y/N) wished they could see her expression, and turned to a cauldron of water. She poured the sample into the pot, and it glowed in a ripple of blue before calming once more. “He speaks the truth,” said the Armorer. “These are indeed the Living Waters. Din Djarin, you are redeemed. This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” repeated the Mandalorians.

            (Y/N) let out a breath of relief and smiled. Mando was redeemed. He was home.

            “And Bo-Katan Kryze, by Creed, you too are redeemed,” said the Armorer.

            “But I do not walk the Way,” said Bo-Katan uncomfortably.

            “Did you bathe in the Waters?” asked the Armorer.

            Bo-Katan nodded. “I did.”

            “And have you removed your helmet since?” questioned the Armorer.

            “No, I have not,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Then you may join our covert and live as your ancestors once did,” said the Armorer. “You may leave anytime you wish. Until then, you are one of us. Welcome, Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” repeated the Mandalorians.

            “And, Din Djarin, your foundlings are, of course, welcome to live freely here,” said the Armorer. She did not question their presence or return. She hadn’t when giving Mando his new quest, and she wouldn’t now. She simply accepted the foundlings were Mando’s Clan of Three. “This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” chorused the Mandalorians.

l

            (Y/N) sat beside Grogu as he played with the crabs on the edge of the lake. (Y/N) was turned away, focusing on the Mandalorians training across the beach. There were Mandalorians of all ages sparring, flying, shooting, and working on all the skills necessary to serve the Creed and their covert.

            Mando approached his foundlings, and they both looked up at him from where they sat. “It’s time that you learn with the other foundlings,” he said.

            (Y/N) glanced back at the training teenage Mandalorians. Although they enjoyed fighting, they were unsure of joining the Mandalorians. They didn’t have a helmet, and while Grogu was mentally younger, they weren’t. If they were Mandalorian, they’d have a helmet at this point. More to the point, (Y/N) was worried they wouldn’t fit in and would be an outsider. They were still Ushti, helmetless, and Force-Sensitive. Mando accepted them, but would other Mandalorians?

            “Are you sure?” asked (Y/N).

            “You’ll be alright, Verd’ika,” assured Mando. He picked up Grogu. “Come on.”

            “Fine,” muttered (Y/N). “But if I make anyone mad, it’s your fault.”

            Mando sighed. (Y/N) still reverted to anger when nervous. “Grogu will go first, how about that?”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “You’re gonna make me anyways.”

            Mando sighed once more before carrying Grogu to where a sparring match was just finishing.

            “Next challenger,” said the Mandalorian instructor.

            Mando put Grogu down on the sand.

            “Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “If they are ever to rise from foundling to apprentice, they must learn,” said Mando. “Judge,” he called. He nodded to Grogu. “He challenges.”

            “He is too small,” said the Judge.

            “He is my ward. Proceed,” said Mando.

            “What weapon?” asked Judge.

            “Let the challenged decide,” said Mando.

            “Darts,” replied the boy.

            “Bring the training darts,” said Judge, and a fellow Mandalorian nodded and headed off.

            “Why don’t they wear helmets?” questioned the boy, looking between Grogu and (Y/N).

            “He is too young to speak the Creed, and so, too young to wear a helmet,” said Mando. “And them…” He looked at (Y/N), and they shrugged. “Their situation is complicated. They grew up in another culture.”

            “If he’s too young to wear a helmet, he’s too young to fight,” said the boy.

            “ ‘One does not speak unless one knows,’ ”  said Mando. “Is that not the Creed?”

            “Well, I know,” said the boy.

            “Perhaps this lesson is for you, then,” said Mando.

            Grogu, kick his ass, thought (Y/N).

            “The training darts,” said a Mandalorian, handing the container to Judge.

            Judge opened the box and removed the small gauntlets. “Fighters, arm yourselves.”

            The boy took a gauntlet and strapped it to his wrist, and Bo-Katan knelt to help Grogu with his.

            “Don’t worry. My dad was the same way. He’s just proud of you. You take it easy on him,” she said before standing. Poor Grogu just looked around in confusion.

            “Each has three darts,” said Judge. “You may fire the darts in any order. Each direct hit scores one point. A mark must be visible to score. One round. Highest score wins.”

            “Squeeze your fist to launch the darts,” said Mando encouragingly to Grogu. “You’ll be fine.”

            “He doesn’t know how to fire darts?” questioned Bo-Katan.

            “He’s got this. Trust me,” said Mando.

            “Ready. Begin!” said the Judge.

            The boy crouched and fired before Grogu even moved. A paintball splattered on Grogu’s robe.

            “Point,” announced Judge.

            Grogu cooed and looked at Mando.

            “Don’t look at me. Look at him,” instructed Mando.

            “Ready,” announced Judge again. “Begin!” Another hit on Grogu. “Point!”

            Mando crouched beside Grogu. “Grogu, I’ve seen what you can do. It’s okay. Show them.”

            “Come on, buddy. Show them what you’re made of,” encouraged (Y/N).

            Grogu babbled and turned back.

            “Ready,” said Judge. “Begin!”

            The boy threw his hand out, but as he fired, Grogu flipped over him, landed, and then jumped back to the other side as the boy failed to track him. As the boy tried to turn, Grogu fired three darts of paint into the boy’s chest.

            “Three points, Winner!” announced the Judge.

            “There you go,” said Mando proudly.

            “Good job, Grogu,” said (Y/N), and Grogu cooed happily.

            “Did you teach him that?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “Not me,” said Mando.

            The boy sighed in disappointment and walked off.

            “Great job, kid,” said Mando, picking him up.

            “What of your other foundling, Din Djarin?” said the Armorer, and the group’s heads turned to her. She had appeared beside Paz without anyone noticing.

            Oh, great, now I have to prove myself in front of the Armorer, the person in charge of literally everything in the covert. Great, thought (Y/N).

            “They are well-trained,” said Mando, firmly believing in (Y/N).

            “Miyan Nyk, step forward,” said the Armorer.

            A Mandalorian boy, (Y/N)’s age judging by height and how Mandalorian training went, stepped forward. He wore a red helmet and several pieces of red armor, dusty from training.

            “Do you, (Y/N) of the Ushti Hilo Clan, accept a challenge?” asked the Armorer.

            (Y/N) might be uncomfortable about feeling like an outsider, but their pride was worth something. They wouldn’t back down. This was a test. “I accept,” they said simply.

            “What weapons?” asked Judge.

            “The outsider can choose,” said Miyan.

            “Daggers,” said (Y/N). “If that’s acceptable for sparring.”

            Judge nodded and looked at a fellow Mandalorian. “Fetch the training knives.”

            “Close-range combat,” noted Miyan. “That poses risks to unarmored opponents. Are you sure?”

            “I’m not afraid of a few cuts,” said (Y/N). They drew their beskar Ushti dagger from their belt and extended it to Mando. “But just in case, I won’t keep this with me. For your sake.”

            There was a small murmuring in the crowd at the sight of the beskar weapon. It was small but still highly unorthodox. The Mandalorian returned with a box of training knives, and (Y/N) and Miyan both took one.

            “The sparring match continues until one yields or is unable to continue,” explained Judge.

            Mando put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder and squeezed in encouragement. “Just focus, Verd’ika. I’ve seen you fight.”

            (Y/N) nodded and turned to face Miyan.

            “Ready,” said Judge. “Begin!”

            Miyan lunged, and (Y/N) dodged, spinning the dagger in their hand. They didn’t attack, however, even as Miyan spun. They parried his attack, keeping close as they watched his moves. Miyan struck out, and as (Y/N) moved, he twirled the dagger and slashed at them. They moved their head just enough, and it clipped their cheek. A line of red appeared as the cut opened.

            “No helmet to block an attack,” said Miyan.

            "A single defeat is nothing if you stand back up to fight another day."

            (Y/N) smirked and wiped the blood from their cheek. “A single cut on the cheek doesn’t mean victory.” They liked to imagine Miyan glaring at them in annoyance beneath his helmet since that was a great motivation to them.

            Miyan attacked again, and (Y/N) moved swiftly. They had waited once and allowed him to strike them. But they had been patient, and now they knew what was coming. (Y/N) dodged, and as Miyan twirled the dagger, (Y/N) tossed their dagger into the air. At the same moment, (Y/N) dropped to the ground. They swept Miyan’s legs out from under him. As he fell, he twisted and struck with his dagger, still fighting. (Y/N), like a snake, twisted out of the way, and as Miyan hit the ground and turned to attack, (Y/N) pinned him. At the same moment, they threw out a hand, and their dagger flew back to their hand. They pressed it to Miyan’s neck as they held down him and his weapon.

            “A single cut here would do it, don’t you think?” said (Y/N) with a smile lacking friendliness. “No armor there.”

            “I yield,” said Miyan through gritted teeth.

            “Winner!” announced Judge.

            (Y/N) stepped back and offered a hand. Miyan paused before taking it and allowing (Y/N) to help him up.

            “Not so bad,” said Miyan.

            “Neither are you,” said (Y/N).

            They nodded curtly to each other before turning away. (Y/N) smiled at Mando. He nodded approvingly.

            “I knew you could do it, Verd’ika,” said Mando.

            “Din, they let him cut them to make a point,” said Bo-Katan in exasperation.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “He annoyed me.”

            Mando shrugged as if saying “yeah, he was rude to my kid, so they kicked his ass,” and Bo-Katan groaned. These people were crazy.

            “Your foundlings have been taught well, Din Djarin,” observed the Armorer.

            Mando nodded. “They work hard.”

            “I can see,” said the Armorer. She looked at (Y/N). “Did you fight with a plan or on instinct?”

            (Y/N) shifted. “I…took the advice someone gave me. I tried to be patient and watched Miyan’s moves instead of rushing. I tried to be smart about the fight.”

            The Armorer nodded.

            Before any further discussion, a loud cry echoed. All heads turned to the waterfront where the boy from Grogu’s sparring match was running to avoid a winged beast flying at them. It snatched him up and flew back into the air in a moment.

            Mando drew his blaster, and Paz was quick to push his arm down. “No blasters, it will kill the child. Follow it to its lair.”

            He and Mando jumped into the air with their jetpacks and were off in a shot. Several other Mandalorians followed. Bo-Katan was quick to jump into her ship and fly after the creature as well. All the rest could do was gather the foundlings and children into the cave for safety and watch in worry.

Chapter Text

            The sun had fallen in the sky when the Mandalorians returned. Bo-Katan was the last to arrive, her fuel lasting far longer than the jetpacks’. The foundlings and children were kept inside the cave, but nothing could stop (Y/N) from following Mando out to see what was happening.

            “I kept a high altitude and followed it to its lair,” reported Bo-Katan. “I know how to get there. We should muster up a hunting party and go after him.”

            The Armorer nodded. “This is the Way.”

            “I volunteer,” said Paz.

            “I volunteer,” said Mando as well.

            “Take the Shriek-Hawk Training team to accompany you,” said the Armorer.

            “I’ll show you the maps,” said Bo-Katan.

            Mando looked at (Y/N) for a moment. “Stay here, and stay inside, alright?”

            (Y/N) huffed. “Only because I don’t have a jetpack,” they said.

            “Just stay safe, (Y/N),” said Mando.

            “You stay careful, too,” said (Y/N), and Mando squeezed their shoulder comfortingly.

            He and Paz headed into Bo-Katan’s ship, and before long, they were flying out into the sunset. The Armorer and (Y/N) watched them disappear from view.

            “You are too young to join them,” said the Armorer to (Y/N).

            “I’ve been too young for a lot of the fights in my life,” said (Y/N).

            “Then allow yourself this moment,” said the Armorer. She turned towards the caves. “Come, (Y/N). There is much to attend to. I must speak to the foundling Grogu.”

            “I’ll find him. Hopefully he hasn’t snuck off and eaten anything he shouldn’t…” murmured (Y/N).

            “And (Y/N),” said the Armorer. (Y/N) paused and looked back at the Armorer. “I wish to speak to you soon, as well.”

            (Y/N) was unsure whether to feel honored or nervous.

l

            (Y/N) eagerly ran out to Mando as he and the rest of the group arrived back at the covert. They ran past the weird baby bird creatures to Mando. The group had rescued the boy successfully, so all that mattered was Mando to (Y/N) and Grogu. (Y/N) hugged him, and Grogu jumped into his arms.

            “Hey, hey, guys,” said Mando.

            “We’re glad you’re okay,” said (Y/N), hugging him tightly.

            “I’m glad to be back to you guys,” said Mando. “Were you guys okay while I was gone?”

            “The Armorer wanted to talk to Grogu, but other than that, we just waited for you,” said (Y/N). “Actually, the Armorer wanted to talk to me, too. I should go.”

            “I’ll be right here with Grogu,” said Mando as (Y/N) nodded and headed into the caves.

            “What would you say if I told you I saw one?” said Bo-Katan’s voice as (Y/N) walked closer to the forge.

            “That you saw what?” asked the Armorer.

            “A mythosaur,” said Bo-Katan.

            “I would say you’re very lucky,” said the Armorer. “It is a noble vision.”

            “No, I—I mean a real one,” said Bo-Katan. “Beneath the Living Waters on Mandalore.”

            “When you choose to walk the Way of the Mand’alor, you will see many things,” said the Armorer as she put the pauldron on Bo-Katan’s shoulder. It held the crest of the mythosaur now, while her other pauldron had the Nite Owl crest.

            “But it was real,” said Bo-Katan.

            “This is the Way,” said the Armorer.

            Bo-Katan was silent before standing and leaving. (Y/N) nodded to her as she left before walking in.

            “Bo-Katan was telling the truth,” said (Y/N). “There was a mythosaur beneath the Living Waters. I saw it, too.”

            “You saw it?” questioned the Armorer. Her tone was sharper than that she used with Bo-Katan. It wasn’t harsh, but it cut more to the point.

            (Y/N) nodded. They knew why she was surprised. They weren’t Mandalorian, nowhere close. They hadn’t spoken the Creed; they wore no helmet. So saying they saw a legendary creature from Mandalore with their own eyes was strange. Why should they be given such a vision? Honestly, (Y/N) still wasn’t completely sure, even if Mandalore the Great assured them they had some potential that they were cultivating. Mando was a much stronger Mandalorian, and even Bo-Katan had the drive to bring Mandalore back to glory. (Y/N) was an Ushti from the middle of nowhere.

            They swallowed and decided to cut to the chase. “But that’s not the…weirdest part. I saw more.”

            “I will listen,” said the Armorer. “Have no fear, foundling.”

            “Well, it started during my b—Mando’s original quest,” said (Y/N). “On Tython, we—”

            “Armorer!” came a cry, and a Mandalorian appeared in the doorway of the Forge. “A Republic X-Wing arrived outside!”

            The Armorer stood up sharply. This could pose a danger to the covert. This was a threat they needed to address immediately. “We will continue this discussion at another time, (Y/N),” said the Armorer. “You have my word.”

            (Y/N) nodded and quickly followed her out into the cave as the various Mandalorians stared at the X-Wing warily from the shadows. The officer exited his ship and walked out into the open, his arms held out wide to show he was unarmed.

            “Captain Carson Teva, Adelphi Rangers,” said Teva. “I have a time pressing matter to attend to.”

            (Y/N) cocked their head. It was the same officer from their incident on the ice planet with the spiders.

            “Clear out, Blue Boy,” warned Paz, walking out and holding his machine gun. “The New Republic isn’t welcome here.”

            “Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” said Teva. “But if I’d given warning, your settlement would’ve cleared out before I ever hit atmosphere.”

            “How did you manage to find us?” asked Mando, stepping to the front of the crowd. “Mandalorians pride ourselves on our secrecy.”

            “Fortunately, someone I served with in the Rebellion is amongst your ranks,” said Teva.

            R5 rolled out of the cave and beeped.

            “Thanks, R5.” Teva saluted him.

            “The entire covert will now have to relocate,” said Mando.

            “Or we could kill him,” said Paz. “Stay right here.”

            “This man cut me and my foundlings a break once, and now I’m returning the favor,” said Mando. “Clear out, Blue.”

            “Greef Karga sent this holo-message,” said Teva. He slowly removed the message from his pocket as the Mandalorians trained their blasters on him. He tossed it to Mando. “Nevarro is under siege by pirates. He’s asking for help.”

            Mando approached and spoke softly. (Y/N) craned their neck to hear but couldn’t make out anything. Mando and Teva conversed for a moment, and from the thrum of the Force, (Y/N) sensed it was bad news coming from Teva. The officer finally nodded to Mando and left to his X-Wing, and Bo-Katan and (Y/N) broke off from the group to get to Mando.

            “I know you’ll relocate anyway, but you have my word, I will not reveal your location. Sorry to intrude,” said Teva honorably before his canopy closed and he lifted into the air.

            “So, what’s the plan?” asked (Y/N). “Nevarro’s really in danger, isn’t it?”

            Mando nodded. “We have to help it.”

            “You can’t do it alone,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Do Mandalorians do group meetings?” asked (Y/N).

l

            “Now, many of you don’t know Greef Karga,” said Mando as he stood before the gathered covert. He held a mallet in his hand that designated him as the speaker as the rest listened. “And those who do fought against him when you rescued me, Grogu, and (Y/N) from his ambush many cycles ago on the streets of Nevarro. Since then, he’s had a change of heart and has risked his life to save mine as well as the foundlings in my care.”

            Grogu cooed, and (Y/N) nodded in confirmation as soft murmurs started in the gathering.

            “I stand before you to petition an intervention,” said Mando. “To help rescue Nevarro before it’s too late. I am in no position to ask any more of you. However…However, the enemy that decimated this very covert were imperials, not Greef Karga’s bounty hunters. Greef Karga is now a High Magistrate and has offered me a tract of land on his independent world. Perhaps it is time for us to live in the light once again on a planet where we are welcome. So our culture may flourish and our children can feel what it is to play in the sunlight.”

            With that, Mando ceased speaking and handed the mallet back to the Armorer as murmurs sprung up around the room.

            “Does anyone else wish to speak?” asked the Armorer.

            “I do,” said Paz, standing up. He took the mallet and stood before the gathering. “I was there on Nevarro that night. I fought against Greef Karga and his hunters. I saw my brothers and sisters fall at the hands of the imperial butchers that hunted us in the sewers. I saw many die to save the lives of these two young foundlings.”

            (Y/N) and Grogu shifted as the stares of all the Mandalorians burned into them from all sides.

            “And now we are asked to sacrifice yet again,” said Paz. “The question we should be asking ourselves is, ‘Why? Why should we lay our lives down yet again?’ ”

            (Y/N) frowned. They needed to protect Nevarro. There were innocent people there.

            “Because we are Mandalorian,” continued Paz.

            (Y/N) blinked in surprise at the change in tone.

            “I have had my disagreements with this man, but he risked his life to save my son,” said Paz. “And Bo-Katan Kryze did not give up on my child’s life even when the rest of us did. These two are asking us to take up arms in the name of a brighter future, and I for one will take up arms to fight by their sides.”

            The murmurs of the crowd grew as nods were exchanged between neighbors. (Y/N)’s heart leapt as the Force hummed as the determination grew within the covert.

            “This is the Way,” said Paz.

            “This is the Way,” repeated the Mandalorians.

            This is the Way, thought (Y/N).

            “This is the Way,” said the Armorer.

            Mando nodded to Paz in thanks, and Paz returned the gesture.

l

            “This is a Kom’rk Class fighter transport,” explained Bo-Katan as the covert reconvened outside as they prepared for the battle to come. “I’ll use it to drop you in, and you will operate as a tight military unit. Din Djarin and myself will reinforce from above. If everyone acts as they should, we can use the element of surprise and defeat an enemy that outnumbers us.”

            The group of Mandalorians nodded and walked onto her ship. Mando stood by (Y/N) as they turned to face him.

            “Be careful, okay?” asked (Y/N).

            “I’m not the one who has to keep safe,” said Mando. He knew they needed to help Bo-Katan on her ship’s guns, but he was hesitant to let them go from his sight where he couldn’t protect them.

            “We’ll survive this,” said (Y/N). “We’ll help Nevarro and its people.”

            “Verd’ika, just swear to be careful, alright? I can’t lose you,” said Mando. “So swear it.”

            “I swear I’ll be careful,” said (Y/N). They smiled before heading up into Bo-Katan’s ship.

            Mando watched worriedly. He wouldn’t be with them if anything happened. He knew (Y/N) was strong and resilient, but he was their father. If anything were to happen to them…Mando wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

            (Y/N) gazed out of the Gauntlet’s windows as Bo-Katan flew them closer to the domed cities of Plazir-15. The Mandalorians she had led had been tracked to this planet, and so, Bo-Katan, Mando, (Y/N), and Grogu followed to regain their support in the retake of Mandalore. It was time for unity once more.

            (Y/N)’s wound still ached a bit, but the majority of the healing was finished about the e-Bacta and rest Mando had forced them into. They were just glad to be out helping the Mandalorians again. They hated just laying there healing when it felt like there were so many important changes taking place around them.

            Mando had been hesitant to let them come, but the Armorer had approved of the progress their wound had made, and Mando’s desire to keep (Y/N) close in case anything else happened was stronger than anything else.

            “There they are,” murmured Bo-Katan, nodding to the landing field where the imperial ships the Mandalorians had commandeered were parked.

            “That’s quite a fleet,” observed Mando.

            “It took me a long time to assemble it,” said Bo-Katan. “Most of it was captured from the Empire.”

            “I thought so,” said (Y/N).

            “Could come in real handy taking back Mandalore,” said Mando.

            “Axe Woves is their leader now,” said Bo-Katan. “It’s going to take some convincing to get them to join us.”

            “I wonder what they’re here for,” said Mando.

            “This planet isn’t on the New Republic Registry, so I’d guess it’s an independent world that hired them for protection,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Can’t imagine Woves will be happy to see you,” remarked (Y/N).

            “Yeah…” said Bo-Katan bitterly. “I’ll land outside the fleet’s perimeter. It’s probably best if we go in on foot.” She glanced back at (Y/N). “If we need to convince them, are you willing to explain what Mandalore the Great told you?”

            (Y/N) nodded shortly. If that’s what was needed to convince the Mandalorians to come together, they’d speak up.

            “Don’t worry,” said Mando. “We’ll be there with you, Ad’ika.” (Y/N) was clearly nervous about explaining their visions to people who may look at them like they were insane, and Mando would support them. Grogu cooed and reached out to (Y/N) encouragingly.

            “Thanks, Buir,” said (Y/N).

            Bo-Katan smiled to herself.

            “Welcome to Plazir-15,” said a sweet android voice over the radio. “The Outer Rim’s only remaining direct democracy. You’ve been assigned a docking slip. You will be guided on the assigned path. Engaged automatic guidance.”

            The ship rocked as the android took control of the Gauntlet and directed it towards the dock. Bo-Katan fiddled with the control panel in annoyance.

            “What happened?” asked Mando.

            “They’ve taken control of the ship,” said Bo-Katan wryly. “I guess we’re going for a ride.”

            Grogu cooed excitedly. The ship landed beside a tube transport system. The group exited, with the Mandalorians stepping out before the adike in order to watch for any enemies. The only greeting they got, however, were two droids, both painted black and sleek metal. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes and tensed. Imperial droids. Hopefully just scraps repurposed for the planet, but definitely not a comforting sight.

            “This is interesting,” murmured Mando.

            “Weird,” said (Y/N).

            “Welcome to Plazir-15,” greeted the more humanoid droid while the R2-like unit beside it beeped. “Please proceed to your hyperloop pod.”

            “Why do they have imperial droids on an independent world?” asked Mando quietly.

            “It’s the Outer Rim,” said Bo-Katan. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

            They entered the hyperloop pod and sat down. The doors slid close with a smooth hiss.

            “Bring us to the bay closest to the Mandalorian fleet,” requested Bo-Katan to the computer.

            The sweet automated voice returned. “As per Article Nine of the Coruscant Accords, permission must be granted from High Senate for access to self-defense forces in the peacekeeping zone. Do you grant permission to scan your chain code?”

            I mean, good security to keep your troops safe, but very irritating, thought (Y/N) as Bo-Katan showed her chain code and the computer trilled when it scanned. Mando and (Y/N) followed suit, Mando with his gauntlet and (Y/N) with their armband.

            “Din Djarin, Bo-Katan Kryze, and (Y/N) of the Hilo Clan,” reported the computer. “Your presence has been requested by the leadership of the planetary democracy—”

            “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters,” interrupted Bo-Katan. “Perhaps at a later time.”

            “Please do not attempt to leave the vehicle,” said the voice, ignoring Bo-Katan. “This is not a request.” The pod shot down the track, and the group inside jerked.

            “I guess we’re meeting the ‘leadership of the planetary democracy,’ ” remarked (Y/N).

            Mando nodded in agreement as the pod sped into the largest domed city. Gleaming tracks crisscrossed the city, beautifully constructed buildings lined busy boulevards, and trees and greenery dotted the dome.

            “I’ve never been here before. Have you?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “I haven’t even heard of it,” said Mando. “Do you think we’re gonna have to blast our way out of here?”

            “We’ll find out,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Oh, joy,” said (Y/N).

            The pod stopped abruptly, and the doors slid open. They carefully walked out of the pod and through the next pair of doors to enter an ornate building. Classical music played through the doors to enter the actual room, and the group glanced at one another. The doors opened as they approached to reveal a large dining room. Plants lined the edges, and strange creatures flew through the air like they were swimming. People chatted in a lively manner at the table, dressed in bright colors.

            “Come, join us!” gestured the man at the head of the table. “It’s a party.” He chuckled. “Come! Everyone, special guests! Mandalorians!”

            (Y/N) blinked, not expecting to be considered with the Mandalorians.

            “I hope you like secretions!” said the man jovially. “Take a little sip-sip. Come, please.”

            The Mandalorians and (Y/N) sat down at the reserved seats for them beside the man and woman at the head of the table.

            “Let’s address the bantha in the room,” said the man, who had introduced himself as Captain Bombardier, boisterously as he and his wife, the Duchess, struggled not to constantly show affection to one another. “I was once a facilities planning officer during the war.”

            Mando’s head lifted warily, (Y/N) tensed, and Bo-Katan’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had been imperial.

            “And thanks to the New Republic Amnesty Program, I was able to help rebuild Plazir-15,” said Bombardier.

            “You were imperial?” questioned Mando. He was ready to defend (Y/N) and Grogu.

            “He was,” said the Duchess. “Plazir suffered greatly under imperial rule. My husband came here as part of his rehabilitation. He oversaw the rebuilding of this planet on which my family served as nobility since it was originally settled, and…we fell in love.” She smiled adoringly at her husband, and his expression was similar.

            “We fell in love,” he agreed enthusiastically. “We did fall in love.”

            (Y/N) cocked their head. The Force hummed as they assessed the couple. They saw no lies or darkness surrounding Bombardier. Grogu cooed, sensing the same positivity in the couple. Neither Force-Sensitive felt any danger.

            The Duchess noticed Grogu and smiled. “Could I perhaps hold the baby? Please?”

            “He doesn’t take kindly to strangers,” said Mando.

            Grogu, ignoring his dad, jumped from his cradle excitedly as he saw the Duchess and the food she was holding. Mando sighed. Neither of his kids were good at listening to him.

            “You are so fast!” cooed the Duchess. “Yes!” She handed him the snack, and Grogu excitedly started eating. She continued the story of her and Bombardier. “You see, it was time for our planet to move into a new age. We held direct democratic elections for the first time in our history.”

            “We are both royals and elected leaders,” said Bombardier.

            “And the Mandalorian privateer warships docked in your fields?” asked Mando.

            “Oh, we hired them for protection,” said the Duchess. “Our charter forbids us from having a military because of my husband’s imperial past.”

            “But because of this, all our resources go to growth and the people,” said Bombardier.

            “I’d like to speak to these ‘privateers,’ ” said Bo-Katan.

            “That can be arranged,” said Bombardier.

            I have a feeling we’re about to be given another side quest, thought (Y/N).

            “There is just one condition,” said Bombardier.

            Knew it.

            Bo-Katan pursed her lips and attempted to remain polite. “What?”

            “You really must see the view,” said Bombardier. “Right this way.” He stood, and the group had no choice but to follow. He glanced at the other officials in the room and smiled. “We’ll just be a moment. Enjoy your meal, don’t get up. Let’s show our guests the view.”

            “We have a problem,” murmured the Duchess, her cheery façade giving way to worry as they walked towards the windows.

            There it is.

            “Yes?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “A droid problem,” said Bombardier gravely.

            “What kind of ‘droid problem?’ ” asked (Y/N), hoping to speed up the process of getting their assignment.

            “Malfunction,” said the Duchess.

            “A coordinated malfunction,” said Bombardier.

            “We think,” said the Duchess.

            “What makes you think that?” asked Mando.

            “The planet’s imperial droids were reprogrammed for peace,” said the Duchess.

            “I personally oversaw the program. I can assure you they were completely rehabilitated for peaceful purposes,” said Bombardier. “Exclusively.”

            “We thought,” said the Duchess.

            “They were, my love, I personally oversaw the program,” said Bombardier.

            No sign he’s lying, thought (Y/N). Something must be going on, then.

            “What kind of malfunction?” asked Mando.

            “I mean, nothing too serious at first. Unexpected power cycles. Deleted task stacks,” said Bombardier.

            “Then it got worse,” explained the Duchess. “Traffic accidents. Heavy equipment failures leading to injury. Assault.”

            “ ‘Assault?’ ” questioned Mando. The Duchess nodded gravely.

            “Respectfully, what does this have to do with us?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “Our constables are ill-equipped to confront battle droids,” explained the Duchess.

            “ ‘Battle droids?’ ” asked (Y/N), raising an eyebrow. They weren’t glossing over that fact.

            “Uh-uh-uh-uh. Former battle droids. They’ve been rehabilitated for civic duty,” said Bombardier.

            “We thought,” said the Duchess.

            “They were!” said Bombardier.

            “Obviously not,” said the Duchess.

            “The Mandalorian garrison outside your city walls can make quick work of your battle droids,” said Bo-Katan.

            “That’s just it,” said the Duchess.

            “What?” asked Bo-Katan, really fighting to keep a gracious smile on her face at this point. (Y/N) could see her eye twitching.

            “Our charter forbids any standing army from entering the city,” said the Duchess. “Our constables aren’t even allowed to carry blasters.”

            “But you allowed us to be armed,” said Mando.

            “Exactly,” said Bombardier. “The people have voted that we are a pluralistic society. You are Mandalorians. Weaponry and armor are intrinsic to your culture, are they not?”

            “They are,” acknowledged Mando.

            “You see where we’re going here?” said Bombardier.

            “You want us to eliminate your droid problem,” said Bo-Katan tersely.

            “Exactly,” said Bombardier.

            “We knew you could help,” said the Duchess.

            “Hold on there, your Majesty,” said Bo-Katan. “We didn’t agree to help you.”

            “Please, Princess Kryze. Your Grace,” said Bombardier. “This is not intended to be a work of charity.”

            “Unlike my brethren outside your city walls, I am not a mercenary,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Apologies if that was the impression I gave,” said Bombardier. “What I intended to convey is that I would hope that this ‘excursion’ would be viewed as an act of diplomacy between our two planets. In fact, Plazir-15 would formally recognize Mandalore as a sovereign system and petition the New Republic to recognized it as such.”

            I would be more interested if I was getting paid, thought (Y/N). They winced. Nope, no, Mandalore the Great would not like that, and they scare me. And…I do want Mandalore to grow again. But man, politics are tough.

            Bo-Katan glanced at Mando and (Y/N) and raised her eyebrow. (Y/N) shrugged, and Mando nodded slightly.

            “The mercenary captain, Axe Woves, indicated that he split from you because you had designs on ruling Mandalore once again,” said the Duchess.

            Bo-Katan pursed her lips. “Those plans have been abandoned.”

            “The offer stands nonetheless,” said Bombardier.

            “What do you think?” asked Bo-Katan, looking at her companions.

            “You had me at ‘battle droids,’ ” said Mando.

            “Sounds like fun,” said (Y/N) brightly. “I might get to shoot something.”

            “You’ve been in enough fights,” said Mando sternly. His ad’ika was way too eager to be in another fight after almost getting killed. It stressed him out.

            (Y/N) shrugged. They weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Chapter Text

            The Duchess and Bombardier sent Mando, (Y/N), and Bo-Katan to speak to Captain Helgait, their head constable, to learn more about the incidents of droid malfunctions. Grogu stayed with the Duchess, out of harms way and happily snacking on delicious treats.

            “The droids were all reprogrammed to serve the community from the stockpile of captured imperial robotics scheduled to be scrapped at Karthon,” said Helgait. “The droids’ reprogramming was a complete success, until one day, an isolated event…” He showed a video of a trash collecting droid fritzing and throwing garbage around the street. “Then others.”

            Another video showed a droid throwing a woman’s packages and tearing the clothing apart as she cried out.

            “This is just a small collection of malfunctions that our security cameras caught,” said Helgait.

            A third video showed a droid stealing a speeder and crashing into a building as people hurried to dodge the reckless driving. A fourth video had a sushi-making droid cutting up ingredients. Unfortunately, the glitch caused it to start…cutting at other things as people screamed.

            “Turn them off,” said Bo-Katan.

            “What?” asked Helgait.

            “Why not turn them all off?” clarified (Y/N). “The droids. Until you figure out the issues.”

            “Who’s in charge of that?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “I am,” said Helgait.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow. Not great vibes from this old guy.

            “There’s a failsafe cutoff switch built into the system,” explained Helgait. “However…”

            “What?” asked Mando.

            “The citizens voted against any interruption in droid services,” said Helgait. He chuckled mirthlessly. “They can’t live without it.”

            (Y/N) blinked. As a kid raised on an Ushti farm, they had very few droids, just some basic ones for gathering grain. They and their parents did more of the manual labor. So the idea of being unable to live without droids was a bit strange to them.

            “And why’s that?” questioned Mando. He too disapproved of too much reliance on droids due to his own trauma with the Empire and their droids.

            “The citizens are no longer required to work and can spend their days engaging in recreation, the arts, and participating in our direct democracy,” said Helgait.

            Is that a little bitterness I detect? thought (Y/N).

            “If we shut down our droids, our citizens wouldn’t know how to survive,” said Helgait. “Our society would collapse.”

            “Then what do you want from us?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “To seek out and decommission any remaining rogue droids until we can fix the problem,” said Helgait.

            “Give us the list,” sighed Bo-Katan.

            “Well, for that, you’ll have to go to the lower level and speak to the Ugnaughts,” said Helgait.

            “ ‘Ugnaughts?’ ” repeated Mando and (Y/N). They both thought of Kuiil, the Ugnaught who had fought and died for them when Gideon first attacked on Nevarro.

            “Ugnaughts,” reiterated Helgait.

l

            “See what happens when you rely on droids?” commented Mando as the elevator slid down.

            “Are you taking this personally?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “Just pointing it out,” said Mando.

            “Let’s just finish this so we can be on our way,” said Bo-Katan.

            The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. Before them lay a workshop where a group of Ugnaughts were working on droid parts with the same calm, meticulous work Kuiil had devoted to his own salvaged droids.

            “I am Bo-Katan Kryze,” announced the woman in question. “Which one of you is in charge?”

            No response or change in the Ugnaughts’ work.

            “We were sent on behalf of the Duchess and Captain Bombardier to help you with your droid problem,” said Bo-Katan. Still nothing. “Hello?” She huffed. “This is going nowhere.”

            (Y/N) nudged Mando. “You’re good at communicating with other cultures, and you spent time with Kuiil. Could you try?”

            Mando nodded. “I could.” He looked out at the Ugnaughts. “I am Mandalorian Din Djarin, friend of Ugnaught Kuiil.” The Ugnaughts finally paused and looked up. “You will answer our questions and help us with our task. I have spoken.”

            The Ugnaughts silently left their work and sat at a table. They gazed expectantly at Mando, (Y/N), and Bo-Katan, who took a seat across from them respectfully.

            “Thank you for hosting us and sharing your table,” said (Y/N), stumbling slightly as they tried to speak with the calm formality Mando had. They wanted to be able to communicate as well as he did.

            “We were engaged to hunt down and eliminate the malfunctioning droids,” said Mando.

            “There are no such droids,” said an Ugnaught.

            “You may not have heard the news down here, but your droids are wreaking havoc in the world above,” said Bo-Katan.

            “There is not much of which we are not aware,” said another Ugnaught. “These halls are the central nervous system of the city. I assure you, the droids are not malfunctioning.”

            (Y/N) assessed the Ugnaughts. No twinge in the Force, no sign that there was any doubt in his words. So either he believed himself to be correct, or there really wasn’t a malfunction. So what would be causing the droid’s to act so strangely?

            “Citizens have been harmed by these malfunctioning machines,” said Bo-Katan.

            “This is not the case. I have spoken,” said the Ugnaught with even finality.

            “We’re not in any way suggesting that your work is to blame,” said Mando. “The stories of Ugnaughts’ skill with smithing droids are legendary. We know that Ugnaughts are considered the hardest working species in the galaxy. We, like you, have been engaged with a task to perform. We will investigate the dangerous incidents.”

            “We would appreciate your help,” said (Y/N).

            The Ugnaughts leaned towards one another and spoke quietly before one Ugnaught handed their speaker a tablet. The speaker looked at Mando, Bo-Katan, and (Y/N).

            “Here are the locations of the droids you seek,” said the Ugnaught.

            “Thank you,” said Mando, taking the tablet. “We are in your debt. I have spoken.”

l

            “What was that?” asked Bo-Katan as she, Mando, and (Y/N) sat in a pod. They sped towards the location of the closest droid under the lanterns of the city, the sky outside the dome dark with night.

            “I’ve spent time with Ugnaughts,” explained Mando. “There’s a particular way to communicate with them. Accusing their work of malfunctioning was an insult. Now, they’ve indicated there’s a likelihood that the next event will at the loading docks.”

            “How sure are they?” asked (Y/N).

            “Hard to tell,” said Mando. “Ugnaughts always seem to be sure of themselves.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “When they said the droids had no malfunction, I couldn’t sense any doubt. So they must be pretty confident. That, or there’s something else going on.”

            “Imperial droids with imperial programmers? That could spell trouble,” said Bo-Katan. “But the Ugnaughts are the only lead we’ve got, so we might as well have a look aroud.”

            The pod stopped, and the doors opened. The space port was bustling with droid activity; the machines had no need to rest even as the night was upon them. They tirelessly carried packages and boxes as needed. It was strange to see battle droids doing such domestic work, but that was Plazir-15’s way.

            “I havent’t seen battle droids since the Clone Wars,” said Bo-Katan as they descended into the delivery zone.

            “I have,” said Mando, remembering the death of his parents. The memory left a bitter taste in his mouth.

            “Any of ‘em look suspicious?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “They all look suspicious,” said Mando.

            “Halt,” said the droid foreman. “This is a restricted are. You are to vacate immediately.”

            “We have a few questions,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Show me your identification please,” said the droid.

            “The Duchess sent us to investigate the droid malfunctions,” said (Y/N).

            “Yes, I saw the reports,” said the droid. “Rest assured, I’ve had the entire line of loaders undergo maintenance protocols as a safety measure. The, uh, certification is on file.” It saw Mando waving his hand at the battle droids. “Uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

            “Why’s that?” asked Mando.

            “As a precaution,” said the droid. “Their base function was warfare.”

            “I thought they were just checked out,” said Mando.

            “They were.” The droid flinched as Mando kicked a battle droid. “Uh, what are you doing?”

            “Then this shouldn’t faze them,” said Mando. He continued kicking droids, and (Y/N) nodded in approval.

            “Excuse me, sir!” said the droid foreman.

            Mando kicked another droid, and it fell over. It stood and swung at him, sending him to the floor. (Un?)fortunately, his provocation had worked. The droid made a run for it as Bo-Katan and (Y/N) shot at it.

            “Really re-certified,” muttered (Y/N), running after the droid with Bo-Katan and Mando on their heels.

            The droid ran out of the landing port to the neon-lit street. People screamed as it and the Mandalorians ran through them. The droid grabbed a trashcan and threw it at them. Bo-Katan and Mando ducked, and Mando was quick to pull (Y/N) down protectively. The trio were quick to scramble to their feet and run after the droid again as the citizens of Plazir-15 cried out in fear.

            It ran into an alleyway, and the Mandalorians pushed their way through the panicked crowd to follow. It cut into another street and grabbed a tall mechanical column and launched it the pursuers. (Y/N), Mando, and Bo-Katan dropped to the ground, and the column smashed behind them and erupted into flames. They jumped up in a moment and were after the droid again, though.

            “Keep going! Watch (Y/N)!” said Mando as he veered off down another alley.

            Bo-Katan nodded sharply. She had let (Y/N) run into danger once; she would protect them this time. After a few moments of veering through streets and crowds, Mando crashed out of a window and knocked the droid over. It stumbled back up, and Mando turned on the ground and brought his blaster up. He shot quickly, and the battle droid stumbled. (Y/N) and Bo-Katan fired from behind, and the combined blaster shots felled the droid.

            Small droids were quick to fly into the street with sirens blaring. “This is a crime scene. Please step back.”

            (Y/N) ran over to Mando and helped him up before they gazed down at the deactivated droid.

            “I found a spark pad,” said Bo-Katan, already examining the body.

            “What’s it say?” asked Mando.

            “ ‘The Resistor,’ ” read Bo-Katan.

            “Sounds like a bar,” said (Y/N).

            Mando nodded. “Droid bar.”

            Bo-Katan smirked. “And there’s an address.”

            “Let’s go,” said (Y/N), and the three of them headed off as the battle droid’s body was collected behind them.

l

            “Let me do the talking in there,” said Bo-Katan as they approached the droid bar.

            “Why is that?” asked Mando.

            “Because I wanna get the information fast and get to the fleet,” said Bo-Katan.

            “So do I. What’s your point?” asked Mando.

            “You don’t get along well with droids,” said (Y/N).

            Mando shrugged. “I don’t like droids.”

            “You do it your way, and now let me do it mine, okay?” said Bo-Katan as they stepped up to a doorway. “This is the address.”

            They stepped inside and were immediately accosted by a clamor of beeps and trills as droids rolled around with one another and drank oil at tables together. The chatter came to an abrupt halt as the droids noticed the biological organisms. Bo-Katan, Mando, and (Y/N) continued through the bar to the barkeeper’s counter as lightbulb eyes watched them.

            “I don’t think they get many of our kind here,” said Mando.

            “Can I help you?” asked the bartender droid.

            “That depends. Is this The Resistor?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “It is,” said the bartender droid.

            Bo-Katan placed the spark pad on the counter. “That spark pad was found on a rogue battle droid.”

            “We give out lots of spark pads,” said the bartender droid. “What are you getting at?”

            “There has been a string of malfunctions that all point to this oil can,” said Bo-Katan.

            “You can check my registry,” said the bartender droid. “We are in full compliance with Planetary Hierarchical—”

            Mando grabbed an electric device and held the sparking device towards the droid. “If you don’t start answering the questions, I’ll yank your memory circuit and dissect it back at the lab. Nobody leaves.”

            “Someone tried to,” murmured (Y/N), looking at a blue droid frozen at the exit.

            “Stay where I can see you,” said Mando to the bartender droid as they approached the blue one.

            “What are you doing?” whispered Bo-Katan.

            “You’re wasting your time. You can’t reason with droids,” said Mando.

            “Their behavior is programmed,” pointed out Bo-Katan. “All they do is reason.”

            “R5 has anxiety,” interjected (Y/N). “Not very reasonable.” They weren’t exactly endorsing harassing the droids that could attack, but they just had a thought and decided to speak. That was pretty much how they made any decision.

            “And they’re also programmed not to harm organics. How’s that going?” said Mando.

            “Look, you are not helping,” said Bo-Katan. “Just because the malfunctioning droids happen to visit here doesn’t mean that this one is in on it.”

            “I want to help,” said the bartender droid.

            “You want me to pull your hearing sensors too?” questioned Mando harshly.

            “Buir, hear him out,” said (Y/N). Mando relented, only slightly and only because they asked. (Y/N) nodded to the droid. “Go on.”

            “We are worried that if these horrible incidents continue, we will be…” The droid trailed off in what (Y/N) could only equate to fear.

            “You’ll be what?” they asked.

            “There are concerns among my customers that we will be replaced,” said the bartender.

            “By what?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “Humans,” replied the droid. “Most of us have been refurbished and reprogrammed. Some droids on Plazir date back to the separatists. The New Republic would send them to scrap. But here on Plazir, they are given a second chance.”

            “Well, these catastrophes don’t help your argument,” said Mando.

            “Exactly,” said the droid. “That’s why we need your help. We don’t want to be replaced. We still have a lot to contribute. Human life is so short. They don’t ask that much of us. Organics created us. It’s the least we can do.”

            The droids in the bar clamored in agreement.

            “Mr. Bartender,” said (Y/N). “Do you think something…infected the droids’ programming in some way?” Whether this was purposeful or not, there has to be a link between the affected droids.

            The droid nodded jerkily. “I have records in the back. Come.”

            Mando and Bo-Katan followed Mr. Bartender and (Y/N) as they went to the back. The droid “sat” at a table across from them and pulled out a box of tablets.

            “There is no selection of beverages as with organics,” explained Mr. Bartender. “Here, droids are served Nepenthe.”

            “What’s Nepenthe?” asked Mando, attempting to be more open-minded since the droid was trying to help and (Y/N) seemed open.

            “It is a viscous lubricant that protects against mechanical wear while delivering program refreshing sub-particles,” explained Mr. Bartender.

            Program refreshing sub-particles? thought (Y/N). I’m not a droidsmith, but that sounds important to the issue Plazir is having.

            “So Nepenthe reprograms the droids that drink here?” questioned Mando.

            “It patches the programming as the commands of the mainframe change,” clarified Mr. Bartender. He opened the box of tablets and flipped through until picking out one. “It seems the malfunctioning droids all imbibed from the same batch of Nepenthe.”

            “So if we can figure out how what other droids were affected and find out how the Nepenthe caused the malfunction, we’ll have a solution,” said (Y/N).

            Mr. Bartender nodded jerkily. “I cannot examine the properties of the Nepenthe myself, but there is equipment on Plazir.”

            Bo-Katan nodded. “We’ll notify lab techs to examine the battle droid.”

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N). The droid nodded in acknowledgement. They were finally on the trail of the answer.

Chapter Text

            In the lab on Plazir, (Y/N), Bo-Katan, and Mando stood around the lab tech as she pulled out the remains of the battle droid that had malfunctioned. They had the equipment to examine the Nepenthe in its system here, and then they could ascertain whether or not it was the root cause of the programming issues in the droids.

            A medical droid, repainted a pleasant white instead of the ominous black it had been when imperial, floated forward and inserted a needle into the battle droid. It extracted a sample of remaining Nepenthe before beeping and allowing the lab tech to take the vial.

            Is no one worried that the droid now kind of “imbibed” the Nepenthe? wondered (Y/N). Does the dead droid cause them to deactivate?

            “We’re looking for programming sub-particles,” explained Bo-Katan.

            “Yes. Let me isolate them,” said the lab tech, placing the sample into a small device and sitting down at her computer. “Alright, let’s see if they give us a reading.” She looked at the display. “The particles are definitely present.”

            “What are the chances that they’re still active?” asked Mando.

            The medical droid beeped, and all eyes turned to it. Its green “eye” turned a damning red, and it fired its surgical lasers at them. It spun wildly as it attacked.

            “Down!” warned Mando.

            The lab tech dove behind her desk. Bo-Katan moved in front of (Y/N) and covered them as she pulled them both down. She fired at the droid, keeping (Y/N) close to her. Mando crept up behind the spinning droid, activated the Darksaber, and sliced through it cleanly.

            Mando looked over at where Bo-Katan was still covering (Y/N) and nodded curtly. Bo-Katan felt her shoulders slump in relief at the motion. She was showing she could and would protect (Y/N). Even though she had failed on Nevarro against the pirates, Mando was forgiving her as she showed that she did care for the kid.

            “I think the particles are still active,” remarked (Y/N), standing up in the smoke as various lab machines beeped in alarm at their destruction.

            “Can we get a close look at their programs?” asked Bo-Katan, helping the lab tech to her feet.

            The lab tech nodded and brought up the particles on her (fortunately) unharmed computer. “Curious…” She frowned.

            “What?” asked Mando.

            “They’re actually nano-droids,” explained the lab tech.

            “How did nano-droids get into the Nepenthe?” questioned Bo-Katan.

            “It doesn’t seem like that could happen on accident,” remarked (Y/N).

            “What’s that?” asked Mando, pointed at a small section of the nano-droids.

            “The striations?” asked the lab tech, zooming in. “Just an aberration in the metal. Probably malleability limitations at this scale.”

            (Y/N) leaned in. “I think it’s writing.”

            Bo-Katan and Mando leaned in as well. “Rotate the perspective. I see it, too,” agreed Mando.

            Sure enough, the scan in the horizontal direction revealed raised lettering on the nano-droids. “It’s chain code,” exclaimed the lab tech.

            “If it has a chain code, then we should be able to determine its point of origin,” said Bo-Katan.

            “In theory. Let’s see what I can find out,” said the lab tech. “The chain title says it didn’t arrive on Plazir through droid acquisitions.”

            “How did it arrive?” asked Mando.

            “They were requisitioned by the Security Office,” reported the lab tech. “And that’s…illegal.”

            “I have a feeling it’ll be the one person who didn’t approve of relying on droids like the rest of Plazir,” said (Y/N). Bo-Katan and Mando looked at them, and they shrugged. “Captain Helgait didn’t seem excited about it all.”

            “They’re right,” said the lab tech in surprise as she brought up the purchasing record. “The nano-droids were ordered by our head of security.”

            Captain Helgait.

            “Let’s get this finished,” said Mando, turning to the elevator. Bo-Katan and (Y/N) were right there with him.

l

            Mando, Bo-Katan, and (Y/N) stepped out into the Security Office. Mando and Bo-Katan kept in front of (Y/N) in case Helgait had managed to also smuggle a weapon onto Plazir and attacked. They were the only one not wearing the armor to protect themselves.

            “Commissioner, we have some questions for you,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Sorry, I have to check the data farm for anomalies,” said Helgait, trying to brush them off.

            “We know about the Nepenthe,” said Mando.

            “And the nano-droids,” added (Y/N). “The droids didn’t malfunction.”

            “You programmed them to disrupt and attack,” said Bo-Katan.

            “You’re coming with us,” said Mando.

            The security officers turned around in surprise and stared at the confrontation between their old commissioner and the Mandalorians.

            Helgait stood suddenly and flipped open a large red button. “Everyone, freeze! If I trigger this failsafe, it will convert the planet’s docile workforce back into battle droids and unleash them onto the unsuspecting citizens of Plazir!”

            I can understand disapproving on relying on tech too much, but endangering people and forcing unwilling droids to do your dirty work? No way, thought (Y/N), curling their hands into fists.

            “Don’t make me do,” warned Helgait, glaring at the Mandalorians with his hand hovering over the button.

            “There’s no way out, Commissioner,” said Bo-Katan. “Give yourself up.”

            “Give up?” questioned Helgait. “I never give up. I didn’t give up to the corrupt Republic, I didn’t give up to the Empire, and I won’t give up to you!”

            “You’re a separatist?” realized Bo-Katan.

            That explains why he’s willing to risk hurting so many people for his own gain, thought (Y/N).

            “Separatist is a pejorative term. I support democracy. Count Dooku was a visionary!” declared Helgait.

            The Force turned cold around (Y/N) with a hush at the mention of Count Dooku. They could sense what he was immediately: a Sith.

            “He was cut short in his prime by the Jedi enforcer—!”

            Helgait himself was cut short as he was thrown backwards, out of reach of the button. (Y/N)’s hand was extended before them. The Force rippled around them.

            “And now another Force-Sensitive can cut you short,” muttered (Y/N).

            “Politics,” sighed Bo-Katan.

            “Good job, Ad’ika,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “He needed to be shut up.”

l

            Mando, Bo-Katan, and (Y/N) led a shackled Helgait into the room where the Duchess and Bombardier were still playing games with their fellow Plazir officials. Grogu babbled excitedly upon seeing his buir and sibling return after another successful mission. The Duchess and Bombardier’s faces fell as they saw who was cuffed between the Mandalorians.

            “What are you doing with Commissioner Helgait?” asked Bombardier in confusion.

            “We found the cause of your ‘malfunctions,’ ” said Mando.

            “Is this true?” questioned the Duchess in shock.

            “I’m afraid it is, M’Lady,” said Helgait.

            “Despicable,” said Bombardier.

            “If that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy,” spat Helgait.

            “I beg your pardon,” said Bombardier.

            “This planet is unrecognizable since he arrived,” snarled Helgait.

            “I had a feeling you hated me,” said Bombardier.

            “I’m disappointed in you, Commissioner,” said the Duchess mournfully. “You served my family well. But Captain Bombardier is the love of my life. And I know his heart is true. Sure, he’s made some mistakes in the past—”

            Pretty big ones, thought (Y/N). Still, now Bombardier radiated no ill intentions.

            “—But who here among us has not? Is there no room for a little bit of forgiveness in a galaxy so vast?”

            “I’m sorry to have disappointed you, my Lady,” said Helgait. “Perhaps someday I can earn such forgiveness from Your Grace.”

            “Perhaps,” said the Duchess. “As for now, you must live in exile on the moon of Paraqaat.”

            Helgait bowed his head sadly as security droids herded him away to his fate.

            “And as for you, Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, Din Djarin of Concordia, (Y/N) of Ushti, I grant you audience with our deployment of Mandalorian privateers,” said the Duchess. “I also give you all our highest honor, the key to Plazir.” She took the large key from a droid and extended it to the group. Bo-Katan graciously took it with a smile. “You will always be welcome in our domed paradise.”

            “M’Lady,” said Bo-Katan, nodding deferentially. “M’Lord.” (Y/N) and Mando nodded in tandem.

            “And to this little one—” the Duchess looked down at Grogu “—I grant knighthood.” She took a sword from a guard beside her. She tapped each of Grogu’s shoulders as he babbled. “You are now a knight of Ancient Order of Independent Regencies.”

            (Y/N) smiled at Grogu as he blinked at them in confusion. Bo-Katan smothered a chuckle.

            “Go in peace, brave travelers,” said the Duchess. “Until our paths meet again.”

            “M’Lord, M’Lady,” said Mando as he picked up Grogu.

            (Y/N) nodded to them again before turning and following their buir and brother out of the hall with Bo-Katan. It was time to visit the Mandalorians. (Y/N) could only hope this would go well. Mandalore needed its people united.

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            “Now approaching Landing Field 3,” reported the smooth robotic voice of the pod.

            “They’re Mandalorians. You’re their leader,” said (Y/N), trying to shore up Bo-Katan’s confidence (and their own by connection since they may have to defend their visions in front of a group of Mandalorians not guided by a calm woman like the Armorer).

            “They’re going to follow you,” said Mando.

            “I’m not their leader anymore,” said Bo-Katan. “Axe Woves is.”

            “Then what’s your play?” asked Mando.

            “I’ll know when I get there,” said Bo-Katan.

            “We’ll have your back,” said (Y/N). “Even if I get the ‘you’re crazy’ looks, I’ll say what Mandalore the Great wants all Mandalorians to know if it helps you.”

            “Thank you, (Y/N),” said Bo-Katan, smiling.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I have visions and run into fights. Those are my skills, so I might as well make them useful.”

            Mando sighed. He didn’t like that second skill.

l

            Mando, Bo-Katan, and (Y/N) walked across the field with Grogu in his cradle towards the Mandalorian fleet. The idle chatter quieted as the group approached.

            “Have you come back to join the mercenaries?” questioned Axe, breaking the silence.

            “I’ve come to reclaim my fleet,” said Bo-Katan.

            “It’s no longer your fleet, is it?” challenged Axe. “I’m now in command and grown quite fond of it.”

            “Then I challenge you, one warrior to another,” said Bo-Katan firmly.

            (Y/N) smiled. There was the Bo-Katan they knew.

            “Do you accept my challenge?” questioned Bo-Katan.

            Axe stood from his seat. “I do.”

            They were silent and unmoving for a moment. Then Axe fired a shot at Bo-Katan, and she jumped into the air. She kicked him in the air, and they both fell to the ground. Axe stood and grabbed a dagger from his belt. Bo-Katan, on her feet again, watched him carefully and extended her own knife from her gauntlet. Axe attacked, and Bo-Katan blocked him. They exchanged blows, each landing a punch and retaliating with equal force. Bo-Katan shouted in determination and punched Axe, forcing him to fall back.

            Axe shouted in anger and rushed her, activating his jetpack. He grabbed her around the middle and forced her to hit the ship behind her. They both fell and groaned as they pushed up to their feet. Axe continued to slash at Bo-Katan, and she dodged. He kicked her down, but Bo-Katan scrambled to her feet deftly. Axe fired a small missile from his gauntlet, and Bo-Katan rolled to the side.

            Mandalorians are intense, thought (Y/N). I like it. Grogu jumped at the explosion and squeaked.

            Bo-Katan flew at Axe and knocked him down again. Axe struggled to his feet, but Bo-Katan was on him in a moment, her arm around his throat with a dagger extended.

            “Do you yield?” she cried through gritted teeth.

            Axe shouted in anger and fired his jetpack. They landed clumsily on the wing of a ship, and he punched Bo-Katan off. She twisted in the air, activated her jetpack, and threw her grappling wire around him. The wire dragged him from the ship, and while Bo-Katan landed neatly, Axe fell to the ground hard.

            He fired his flamethrower, and Bo-Katan activated her small energy shield at her wrist. She jumped up overtop his attack and landed on him. She pinned Axe down, her dagger at his throat.

            “Do. You. Yield?” she questioned firmly.

            “You’ll never be the true leader of our people,” spat Axe. “You won’t even take the Darksaber from him.” He jerked his head at Mando.

            The Darksaber’s whispers grew energetic beside (Y/N), almost erratic, as Axe spoke, and (Y/N) glanced at it. They could ignore it most of the time, but when any attention came to it, it always had a reaction that (Y/N) could sense, even if they couldn’t make out the words.

            “He’s the one you should be challenging,” said Axe.

            The Darksaber’s whispers were a murmured hiss in (Y/N)’s ears. It was almost as if it was challenging Axe’s statement in some way, arguing against it.

            “Enough Mandalorian blood has been spilled by our own hands,” said Bo-Katan, pressing her dagger close to Axe. She pushed off of him. She had won the challenge. She gazed around at her troops. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

            “But a misguided zealot possessed the blade,” said Axe scornfully, getting to his feet. “One, I might add, who has not a drop of Mandalorian blood in his veins.”

            “Din Djarin took the Creed and chose to walk the Way,” said Bo-Katan. “Just as our ancestors did. And they do not care for our differences.” She looked to (Y/N). They nodded to her, giving her leave to speak of their visions. “That child, not Mandalorian by birth, having no Creed but the heart of a Mandalorian, has seen Mandalore the Great.”

            Whispers commenced among the Mandalorians, and all heads turned to (Y/N). Without helmets to disguise their gazes, the eyes on them burned even more intently, but they stood strong beside Mando.

            “Our ancestors warn us not to make the mistakes that weakened us once,” said Bo-Katan. “Did they not, (Y/N)?”

            (Y/N) took a deep breath and stepped forward, Mando nodding to them in support. “They did. Mandalore the Great has seen something dark coming for Mandalore. They want Mandalorians to fight it together, to bring Mandalore to glory together. They don’t want your infighting to destroy you again.”

            “Can’t you see?” said Bo-Katan. “This is our chance to find glory in our Way again. Together, as one Mandalore and many Mandalorians.”

            The Mandalorians watching were murmuring to each other, a mixture of agreement and arguments, hope and worry.

            “But according to our ways, the ruler of Mandalore must possess the Darksaber!” declared Axe, still fighting. “What of that divide?”

            “She shall have it,” said Mando, speaking finally.

            The Mandalorians glanced at one another in apprehension and curiosity.

            Mando held up the Darksaber and extended it to Bo-Katan. “This belongs to you.”

            “It’s not a gift to be given, no matter how well intended,” said Bo-Katan.

            “It’s not a gift,” said Mando. He faced the Mandalorian fleet. “While exploring Mandalore, I was captured. And this blade was taken from me. Bo-Katan rescued me, and she and my ad’ika slayed my captor. The enemy that defeated me was defeated. Would this blade then not belong to her?” The Mandalorians looked at one another questioningly. “Would it not belong to her?” repeated Mando.

            Axe was the first to nod. He was tough but honorable. “It would,” he said. His fellow Mandalorians nodded in agreement.

            “I return this blade to its rightful owner,” said Mando, holding the blade out to Bo-Katan for a third time.

            Bo-Katan hesitated but a moment before taking it. She extended the blade, and it hummed with power. Bo-Katan looked out at her fleet with determined eyes. The Mandalorians gazed at her with honorable admiration and deference.

            But (Y/N) couldn’t focus.

            No…Worthy…Wielder… The Darksaber’s whispers grew louder in (Y/N)’s ears, harsh and grating against Mando’s smooth words. Never won…Worthy…

Chapter Text

            “I hope these two groups get along,” murmured Bo-Katan. “They’ve never met, and what little they know of each other, they hate.”

            Her fleet had arrived above Nevarro’s Mandalorian covert. Mando, (Y/N), and Bo-Katan had successfully convinced her people to join them, and the Armorer had pledged the covert’s allegiance to working with fellow Mandalorians to retake Mandalore. However, the two groups’ differences would cause friction, and (Y/N) and their group needed to ensure that they could keep the peace enough to allow Mandalore to grow to glory again.

            I’ll do my best to help them avoid their past mistakes, swore (Y/N) to Mandalore the Great.

            “They will if they wanna survive,” said Mando. Grogu cooed in agreement from Bo-Katan’s lap.

            “That would be the reasonable thing,” said (Y/N). But let’s see if people are reasonable.

            The fleet touched down with the Gauntlet at the front. Covert Mandalorians stepped out to warily regard the strange group of Mandalorians arriving. Each group stared at each other, all still wearing their helmets, ready for a fight, tense and expectant.

            “Take the children inside,” said Paz to Ragnar, who nodded and guided the kids of the Covert inside.

            The rest of the Covert remaining outside and watched the approaching group with stiff posture. Even the older trainees were among them, old enough to fight if it came to it. (Y/N) recognized Miyan in his red helmet at the front, standing carefully still. Bo-Katan and her Mandalorians in blue (“Blues” to (Y/N)) stopped in front of the Covert. Grogu, (Y/N), and Mando stood beside the woman herself. The meeting was upon them.

            Axe Woves removed his helmet, and the other Blues followed suit, including Bo-Katan. The Covert shifted, unused to Mandalorians removing their helmets. The tension increased between them.

            A loud clanking grabbed all their attention. The Armorer calmly slammed her hammer and tongs together. She lowered her tools as everyone turned to her.

            “Welcome, fellow Mandalorians,” she said, voice smooth and calm as ever, betraying no doubts in the success of this meeting, if she even had any. She was inscrutable with her even tone and helmeted head. “We invite you to make camp. Let us prepare a feast for our guests.”

            The Covert dispersed from their group to assist in preparations as their Armorer asked, and the Blues backed away to talk amongst themselves. Neither group interacted with each other. Bo-Katan hit Axe and dragged him away.

            “Mando!” greeted Karga, appearing on the scene. “(Y/N)! And the little guy!” He laughed jovially upon seeing them. “Welcome back, my friends. Welcome back. That’s quite a fleet you’ve assembled.” He held out a glass bottle. “Little welcome gift to celebrate our new neighbors.”

            At least someone feels good about this whole meeting, thought (Y/N).

            “That’s all the way from Coruscant, so you might wanna wait for a smaller gathering before you open it,” advised Karga.

            “Thank you,” said Mando.

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s not the only gift I have,” sad Karga. “Come back to me office, and I’ll show you.”

            “Anything to get away from the tension here,” muttered (Y/N).

l

            The doors to Karga’s office slid open as they waited within. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as IG-11 walked towards them. Except, it wasn’t IG as much as an Anzellan sit in the chest cavity piloting the droid. Grogu perked up in excited wonder.

            “What did you do to IG-11?” asked Mando.

            “No, that’s IG-12 now. Do you like him?” said Karga excitedly.

            “Do I like him?” questioned Mando. Last time they turned IG on, it tried to kill his adike.

            “Don’t worry. He’s safe,” assured Karga.

            “You sure?” asked (Y/N). They had seen some droid troubles recently.

            “Well, the Anzellans stripped IG down to his base motor functions. They removed his memory circuit. The pilot provides cognition,” said Karga.

            The Anzellan pressed a button, and IG voiced a mechanical “Yes.”

            Grogu cooed wondrously. (Y/N) glanced at him and snorted. They sensed he wanted to try piloting. That and he wanted to squeeze the Anzellan. Sure enough, Grogu got up and walked towards the Anzellan as it got out of the seat and jumped to the table. The poor Anzellan had to skirt around Grogu watchfully.

            “Think of it this way. It’s more like a vehicle, hmm?” explained Karga. “It’s safer than way.”

            “Well, Grogu’s too little to operate this thing,” said Mando, watching as Grogu walked up to the IG.

            “Let’s see if he fits,” said (Y/N) excitedly.

            Mando sighed and watched as (Y/N) picked Grogu up and set him in the seat.

            Karga laughed. “So what do you think?”

            “They do nice work, I’ll give them that,” said Mando, though a little amused.

            (Y/N) grinned. “I love it. What do you think, Grogu?”

            Grogu babbled and grinned.

            “It’s good, but he’s still too young to operate heavy machinery. Maybe when he’s older,” said Mando.

            “No.”

            (Y/N), Mando, and Karga turned to face Grogu. He looked back at Mando, his hand still over the button to say no.

            “What do you mean ‘no?’ ” asked Mando.

            “No,” repeated Grogu with a smack of the button.

            “I think he thinks he’s old enough,” said (Y/N). They shrugged. “I mean, he is over fifty.”

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “Mm-mm,” negated Mando protectively. “Get him out o fthere.”

            “No,” said IG-12.

            “At least let him try it out in my office,” said Karga, as eager as an uncle getting his nephew into trouble.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “No, this is not a good idea. Come on,” said Mando. He reached out for Grogu, but Grogu pushed Mando aside with IG’s limbs. “Hey.”

            Grogu eagerly piloted IG around the room, jerking this way and that and knocking a few items over. Slowly, Grogu got a hang of it. He was always smarter than he seemed. (Y/N) grinned as they watched. He was having a great time.

            “Will you look at that?” chuckled Karga.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “Yes, what?” asked Karga.

            “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” repeated IG-12 over and over.

            “I think Grogu likes it,” said (Y/N).

            Mando sighed. “We’re not getting him out of there, are we?”

            “Nope,” said (Y/N).

l

            “Yes. Yes. Yes.” Grogu kept hitting the button over and over as their clan walked back through Nevarro to the Mandalorian encampment. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

            When it stopped, (Y/N) immediately paused and looked back, causing Mando to do the same. They groaned. Grogu had stolen food from a vendor and was devouring it.

            “What are you doing?” scolded Mando. “Stop, Grogu. No. You have to pay for those.” He took away the food, but the vendor was already upset. Mando handed over some credits, but at the same moment, Grogu grabbed a piece of fruit. “No. Hey, Grogu, give it,” said Mando, reaching for it.

            “No,” said IG-12, and Grogu directed the arm to hold it out of Mando’s reach. It squeezed and crushed the fruit, sending a sprinkle of juice down on the group. Mando sighed in resignation and handed over more credits to the disgruntled vendor.”

            “He’s not gonna let you keep using that if you act like that,” said (Y/N) to Grogu.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “No, he won’t,” said (Y/N).

            Grogu babbled as if saying he wouldn’t get out.

            Mando sighed. “We should go before there’s more trouble.”

            “Not like there’ll be any less trouble at the camp,” said (Y/N).

l

            The encampment remained divided between Blue and Covert Mandalorians, even as the food cooked and the sun set. They all just spoke quietly to one another and glanced warily at the other Mandalorian group.

            “Mandalorians,” said Bo-Katan, stepping forward between the two. The time had arrived to discuss the reality of their situation. “It is time to retake our home world. Even though the planet is not cursed, there are still dangers. Dormant species have been awakened by the bombings. The remaining magnetic interference has made it impossible to scan the surface from above atmosphere.”

            And there’s a darkness coming for us, thought (Y/N), acutely aware of Mandalore the Great’s warning.

            “Which is why I’m proposing that we leave Nevarro and move the fleet into orbit above Mandalore,” continued Bo-Katan. “We send down a small recon party. We’ll scout the surface, find out what remains of the Great Forge, and establish a safe perimeter. Only then will we bring down the others.” She glanced at (Y/N), and they nodded encouragingly. Bo-Katan was doing the right thing, even if it was risky. She cleared her throat. “I need volunteers from both tribes.”

            Silence. No movement.

            (Y/N) sighed and stood. They shrugged as if it was obvious. “You know I’m with you.”

            Mando stood beside his ad’ika. “I will go. Grogu as well.” The kid in question got to his feet, though that didn’t make him any taller. Their Clan would fight for Mandalore.

            Bo-Katan nodded to them in thanks.

            Koska was next, picking her helmet up as she stepped out. “I will go.”

            “I will go,” said Axe.

            “I will go,” said Paz.

            “I will go.”

            “I will go.”

            “I will go.”

            One by one, members of both tribes stepped forward to pledge their help to retaking Mandalore.

            “I will go as well,” said the Armorer. Bo-Katan blinked for a moment in surprised before bowing her head at the honor.

            (Y/N) smiled to themself. We’re making progress.

l

            The following morning, the fleet was in the air. The many ships dotted the sky above Nevarro as they flew out of the atmosphere towards Mandalore. Every Mandalorian remained on edge as they jumped out of hyperspace above Mandalore, but at the same time, they couldn’t help but feel a jump of exhilaration as they saw their home world, the place of their ancestors.

            “Scouting party descend to surface,” said Bo-Katan to the rest of the fleet from the Gauntlet where she, Mando, Grogu, the Armorer, and (Y/N) were awaiting their descent (Grogu was even in IG-12 to move with the others quickly). She led the flight downwards. She glanced back. “We’ll lose comms shortly.”

            (Y/N) nodded and watched as the thunderclouds enveloped them again as they broke through Mandalore’s atmosphere. Lightning and rain raged around them, but the Mandalorians remained calm and collected as they awaited their arrival on the surface. The hatch of the Gauntlet opened, the scouting party gazed down at the planet below.

            “They’re ready,” said Mando after checking on the droppers ((Y/N) had been forbidden from even approaching the drop hatch due to the incident with the pirates).

            “Secure infil zone,” said Bo-Katan. She flipped a switch, and the Mandalorians dropped and activated their jetpacks.

            They soared to the ground below, instantly drawing their weapons in case enemies made an appearance.

            “Gauntlet, landing zone secure,” reported Koska after they scanned the surrounding land.

            The Gauntlet swooped low and landed. The remaining members of the scouting party exited the ship and joined their compatriots.

            “Somewhere below is where our ancient capital once stood,” said Bo-Katan as she stood before them. “We’ll survey the surface until we find the Forge and create a safety zone. Only then will we begin to bring down settlers. We start scouting in that direction. Follow me.” She put on her helmet and strode out across the planet surface confidently.

            The Mandalorians followed. Everyone was in pairs of two to watch each other’s backs. No enemies had attacked so far, but as they continued walking, they remained watchful. (Y/N) paused and narrowed their eyes.

            “Buir,” they said, and Mando glanced at them. “Can your helmet see that, in the distance?” They gestured to the horizon, and with his clear visor focus, Mando nodded.

            “Something’s moving this way,” he warned.

            “Nite Owls,” ordered Bo-Katan.

            “Flanking left,” responded Axe.

            The Mandalorians tensed with weapons out as a ship-speeder hybrid approached. Mando stepped in front of (Y/N) and Grogu protectively.

            A man’s head popped up. “Do you have food?”

            “We do.” Bo-Katan responded simply. If there was a way to resolve this without an altercation, they would take it.

            “You wear the crest of the Nite Owls?” commented a second man in surprise.

            “I should hope so,” said Bo-Katan.

            “They’re Mandalorians,” said the Armorer, making the connection quickly.

            “Is that the voice of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze?” asked one of the men in hopeful surprise.

            “It is,” admitted Bo-Katan.

            The three men, Mandalorians, jumped into the air with jetpacks and landed before Bo-Katan. The Mandalorian scouts raised their weapons, but Bo-Katan stayed them with a raise of her hand. The three Mandalorians strangers removed their helmets. They put their hands to their chest and bowed to Bo-Katan.

            “We knew you would not forsake us, Lady Bo-Katan,” said the first, the leader of the three.

            “We have failed you, but our blasters remain in your service,” said the second.

            Huh, thought (Y/N).

l

            The Mandalorians had loaded onto the trio’s land-speeder, and they ate quickly as a moon hung over Mandalore in the dark clouds.

            “They intercepted any ships they saw leaving,” explained the leader of the survivors. “They took no prisoners. They bombed every surface twice over. They punished us as a warning to the whole galaxy because we refused to surrender.”

            Bo-Katan swallowed, and the Force quivered around her, catching (Y/N)’s attention even before she spoke. “That’s not true,” she admitted quietly. All heads turned to her. “I did surrender.” The words were filled with shame. Whispers erupted among the group. Bo-Katan took a deep breath and continued. She wouldn’t hide her mistakes from her people as she tried to lead them. She was honorable.

            “After our forces were annihilated in the Night of a Thousand Tears and defeat was imminent, I met with Moff Gideon,” she said. “The ISB had reached out to me to negotiate a ceasefire. In exchange for submitting to the Empire and disarming, all remaining cities and Mandalorian lives were to be spared. That is how Moff Gideon came to possess the Darksaber.” Silence, and she continued. “I didn’t trust him, but it was the only chance I had to save our people. And then he betrayed me, and we were helpless to resist the Purge of Mandalore.” The final words were shakier than the rest of her speech, the admission that she had failed to protect her people weighing on her.

            Still, (Y/N) admired her bravery. Bo-Katan had admitted her vast mistake, and for that she had (Y/N)’s respect as a leader still.

            “How did these others survive?” questioned one of the surface survivors. He jerked his head towards the Covert Mandalorians.

            “We were hidden on the moon of Concordia,” said the Armorer.

            “Are you Death Watch?” questioned another survivor.

            “Death Watch exists no longer,” said the Armorer simply. “It shattered into many warring factions.”

            “Our people have suffered time and time again,” said Bo-Katan, and all attention turned to her once again. “From division and squabbling factions. Mandalore has always been too powerful for any enemy to defeat. It is always our own division that destroys us, and we must not repeat the mistakes of the past.”

            She looked knowingly at (Y/N), and they nodded shortly as uncomfortable attention turned to them, the Nite Owls and Covert Mandalorians alike knowing what (Y/N) had heard from Mandalore the Great. (Y/N) didn’t speak. They had already said enough, and Bo-Katan and Mandalore the Great were right—Mandalore’s infighting broke it. Only by coming together and putting aside their differences would they rise once more.

l

            Bo-Katan stood at the front of the speeder, gazing out over Mandalore’s scarred surface. She couldn’t fight the knowledge that this was her fault. She had failed her people, and now they all knew. Mando and (Y/N) walked up beside her, one on each side. Bo-Katan didn’t react.

            “We had no idea,” said (Y/N).

            Mando nodded. “My Covert was taught that everyone but us had forsaken the Way. That you were selfish and uncaring. Now we understand.”

            Bo-Katan shook her head with solemn melancholy. “You were right. I was selfish. And this is what it wrought.”

            “We’ll rebuild it,” said (Y/N). “Isn’t that what Mandalorians do? They fight whenever pushed into a corner? You’ll overcome this. You’ll survive.”

            “I don’t know if I can keep everyone together,” admitted Bo-Katan. “There’s too much animosity. And this blade is all I have to unify our people.” She held the Darksaber before her.

            A single weapon holding Mandalore together while tearing it apart in a bid for power, thought (Y/N). They spoke up. “That weapon only means what you’ve taught me. It means nothing really to me or Buir’s Covert.” Mando nodded in confirmation. “Station, bloodline, I don’t think that matters to them. It’s honor.”

            Mando glanced at (Y/N). He was unsure when they had become so knowledgeable in Mandalorian ways, whether it was their own observations, Mandalore the Great’s teaching, or a combination, but he was proud. The Armorer was right. They had the makings of a great Mandalorian.

            “You have loyalty, character, honor,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s why we serve you, Lady Kryze,” said Mando. “Your song is not yet written. I will serve you until it is.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “As will I. You are loyal to Mandalorians, and we’re loyal to you.” This is the Way.

            Bo-Katan gazed at the two of them and felt a strength blossom within her she hadn’t felt in years. Mandalore could be saved.

Chapter Text

            The following morning, the Armorer took some of the surface survivors of Mandalore to the cruiser above the atmosphere. They were too weak to continue, so while the rest of the scouting party and the stronger trio of survivors continued, she would ensure the Mandalorians were taken care of.

            On the surface, the large ship-speeder rolled over Mandalore with the Mandalorian tribes tense on the deck. Most kept to their own groups as thunder rumbled in the skies above, but Paz and Axe were playing a board game. Axe moved a piece, and then Paz did.

            “You can’t move an enforcer like that,” said Axe.

            “It’s a flank jump. And you’re about to submit,” said Paz.

            The tension of the conversation caught the attention of every Mandalorian on board.

            “But only the Wing Guard can flank jump,” argued Axe.

            “The Enforcer moves like a Wing Guard when it’s flanking,” said Paz.

            Axe huffed. “These primitives make up their own rules for everything,” he muttered. Koska and a few other Nite Owls chuckled.

            They just don’t know when to shut up, thought (Y/N), narrowing their eyes.

            Paz stood up at the insult and drew his vibroblade. The tension was palpable, and the Mandalorians tensed, their natura fighting instinct piqued.

            “Serious?” questioned Axe as if he was the bigger person when he had in fact lowered himself to insults first over a game.

            “Submit or fight,” said Paz.

            (Y/N) stood carefully from their seat, and from below, Mando and Bo-Katan emerged to see the argument ensuing.

            “Can you believe this?” said Axe, still pretending he was more mature.

            He jumped up with his jetpack and kneed Paz in the face. He landed and grabbed his own dagger. Axe and Paz lunged for one another, grappling and punching as other Mandalorians watched eagerly.

            “Should I step in?” asked Mando.

            “Neither side can step in,” said Bo-Katan. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

            Paz and Axe were still swinging at one another, their fight not ending anytime soon. Both were tough warriors. Neither would bow to the other until absolutely unable to continue. Each time one was knocked down, they got back up and retaliated against the other. They grabbed their daggers and darted towards one another.

            “No! No! No!” Grogu slammed IG-12’s button over and over.

            (Y/N) agreed with him and threw out their arms. The Force pulsed around Paz and Axe. They froze in place, unable to continue their fight.

            “No. No. No,” repeated IG-12.

            Axe and Paz managed to turn their heads to stare at Mando’s two adike.

            “Are you guys so eager to destroy our efforts that you’re going to start repeating your mistakes already?” remarked (Y/N), narrowing their eyes. “What does it take for you guys to see this is bigger than your different traditions? Put your pride aside for Mandalore, for Maker’s sake.” They dropped their arms, and Axe and Paz were freed. They glared at one another, but they backed off. Neither wanted to seem like the person to start Mandalore’s infighting again.

            “You taught your apprentices well,” said Bo-Katan, smiling as she looked at Grogu and (Y/N).

            “They didn’t learn that from me,” said Mando. But that didn’t make him any less proud.

            “There, on the starboard bow!” alerted the scout from above, interrupting any further discussion and possible arguments as everyone turned.

            A creature was rising from the rocks they were nearing. The Mandalorians stood and drew their weapons. The creature raised its head and roared. It raised its tail, about to slam down on the speeder.

            “Abandon ship!” ordered the captain.

            “Let’s go!” ordered Axe.

            Paz supported Grogu in IG-12 and Mando scooped (Y/N) up as the Mandalorians activated their jetpacks to fly to safety. The ship exploded behind them as the creature slammed down on it.

            “This way, this way!” shouted Bo-Katan, gathering her people towards a cave to get underground. “Hurry up, faster!”

            “You good?” asked Mando, his voice worried even through the modulator.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), and Grogu pressed the “Yes” button.

            “Go, go, go,” directed Bo-Katan, and the Mandalorians headed farther down into the cave system.

            The rumbling of the creature only receded once they were deep under the surface of Mandalore. The Mandalorians calmly continued on, even when the path opened into a large cave where one side of the trail was a cliff face and the other a cliff itself, dropping endlessly down into the earth. City ruins. In the center of the large hall was a tall metal structure, towering over everything else.

            “Where are we?” asked Mando.

            “This is what’s left of the Great Forge,” breathed Axe, shocked he could ever return to this place. “This was once the heart of our civilization.”

            (Y/N) could understand. The Force moved around this room as if many great people had served in it and found peace. Indeed, the armor of the Mandalorians had been forged there, so it made sense. Like the Living Waters, it was a symbol of the Mandalorian Way.

            “But the fires have been extinguished since the bombings,” said Axe.

            “You lived here?” asked Paz.

            “We all did,” said Koska.

            “We never left,” said the captain of the survivors. “Survived by migrating along the surface until the war ended. Some tried to explore below, but none survived.”

            (Y/N) froze suddenly. “Buir…” they said.

            Mando was instantly on edge, their tone light and worried. Bo-Katan recognized it as well and turned to them.

            “Something’s here. It’s…bad,” said (Y/N), their hands traveling to their belt and weapons.

            “Bad?” asked Mando.

            (Y/N) nodded. From beside them, Grogu pressed a button. “Yes.” He sensed it too.

            “Something dark hangs over Mandalore, growing as we speak. You must be prepared to fight.”

            Mandalore the Great’s words reverberated within (Y/N).

            Bo-Katan frowned before she heard a soft whooshing. “Jetpacks?” she wondered.

            “More survivors?” asked Axe.

            “They’re not Mandalorians,” said (Y/N), grabbing their blaster.

            The Nite Owls donned their helmets, and no sooner were they protected than the shooting began. The troopers shot from where they flew, pinning the Mandalorians to the rock behind them.

            “They’re imperial!” shouted Axe.

            “Take cover,” said Mando, pulling (Y/N) and Grogu with him. He stood in front of them, shooting at the troopers. (Y/N) shot around him carefully.

            “They’re wearing beskar armor!” shouted a Covert Mandalorian.

            Sure enough, blaster shots were bouncing off the imperial’s armor.

            “We’re pinned down. We need backup,” said Mando urgently.

            “I can make a run for the fleet and get us reinforcements,” said Axe.

            “No, it’s too far!” warned Bo-Katan.

            “I can make it. It’s our only shot at taking the planet back,” said Axe. He was willing to risk everything for Mandalore.

            “There’s a split in the ceiling!” alerted (Y/N), jerking their head up.

            “I’ll lay down cover,” said Paz.

            He hauled up his machine gun and fired rapidly. Several enemies went down, the beskar alloy not holding up at that distance with that firepower. Axe jumped into the air and flew up into the crack as even more troopers landed to attack. The Mandalorians were still pinned, and several of them were fighting against injuries already. Screams echoed as some fell off the cliff. They were unable to gain real cover as the troopers attacked from all sides and flew around.

            Mando punched one and shot him in the chest, killing him. Bo-Katan blocked and sunk her dagger into another. (Y/N) rolled to the side as one trooper shot at them and shot back. Another attacked from the side, and (Y/N) threw their dagger into his throat. As he stumbled back, they Force-pulled it to them again before the trooper fell over the cliffside. They turned and pushed several advanced troopers from the cliff, panting at the exertion. One by one, the Mandalorians took a number of the enemies down.

            “They’re retreating!” called Paz.

            “Advance!” cried Bo-Katan.

            “For Mandalore!” shouted the Mandalorians, running forward.

            “Okay, adike, you’ve gotta keep up,” said Mando, checking on his kids first. Grogu and (Y/N) nodded before the entire family ran after the rest of the Mandalorians in the charge.

            They ran through the caves until they reached a metal tunnel. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. It was very imperial architecture. Something was amiss, far more than just a squadron of troopers. The darkness surrounding Mandalore was there.

            Mando, Bo-Katan, and Paz led the group around a corner and attacked the troopers waiting there. (Y/N) wanted to be up there fighting, but Mando kept them carefully behind him as the Mandalorians advanced. (Y/N), however, wasn’t having any of that.

            They advanced with Mando, dodged and attacking with equal deftness. When Mando and Bo-Katan barged through a group of troopers, (Y/N) leapt forward over the troopers and attacked from the back. Their dagger and blaster flashed through the air as they shot and slashed. They pivoted and ran forward again with Bo-Katan and Mando as they chased the next group of troopers. They ended at a large landing pad in a cavern, and the squadron of troopers jumped into the air, soaring away as the Mandalorians shot at them.

            With no enemies in range, they looked around. It was a full imperial base below the surface of Mandalore. That was the darkness, (Y/N) knew it in their bones.

            “What is this place?” wondered Bo-Katan, keeping her blasters up.

            (Y/N) lurched as the Force thrummed. “It’s dark,” they said. “We need to go. Now.”

            They turned, but as soon as they did, the doors to the tunnel slid closed with a resounding thud. It was a trap. Bo-Katan, Paz, Grogu, Mando, and most of the scouting party were trapped between two doors while (Y/N) and a small group of Mandalorians were on the landing pad. Instantly, blaster shots rained down on the group trapped outside. Several Mandalorians fell from the shots.

            “It’s an ambush!” shouted (Y/N), dodging behind a box and firing from behind it.

            Behind them, Paz and Bo-Katan fired at the glass in an attempt to get through to their compatriots. Grogu banged on the window, trying to get to his sibling. Mando fired his blaster over and over at the window, desperate to get to (Y/N) as the rest of the Mandalorians fell. They raised their arms and pushed as many troopers as they could back, but several shot grappling wires that fastened around their arms. The troopers flew overtop, crossing (Y/N)’s arms, and pulled down. (Y/N) fell to their knees, still thrashing.

            “No! No! No!” Grogu banged on the window and pressed IG’s button over and over.

            “Ad’ika!” shouted Mando.

            “(Y/N)!” said Bo-Katan worriedly.

            (Y/N) twisted as two troopers approached and sunk their dagger into one’s exposed knee. He fell, but the other grabbed (Y/N) and forced them down again. Another grabbed their dagger and blaster before they could cause more damage, and the wires around their wrists tightened, keeping them from moving their hands. A group of troopers leveled their weapons at them in case they tried anything. (Y/N) couldn’t use the Force and didn’t have a weapon. Still, their anger and ferocity radiated from them. They were not beaten yet, not until they were dead.

            The Force murmured, and the Darksaber’s whispers grew louder behind the door, both whirling around (Y/N) with support for the fight in their heart. (Y/N) wasn’t down yet.

            “Ad’ika!” came Mando’s cry again, banging on the window with enough anger to shake the world. His kid was in danger; he needed to get to them. He couldn’t leave them in harm’s way. “(Y/N)!”

            “No! No! No!” IG-12 buzzed incessantly.

            From above the platform, a man in pure black beskar-alloy armor flew down. He landed with an ominous thud. The Mandalorians within the tunnel tensed, and (Y/N) glared. The armor was styled to be a twisted Mandalorian design. They hated seeing the Empire disrespect the Mandalorians in such a way, making their ways the Empire’s.

            “Their weapons,” said the modulated voice.

            A trooper dutifully passed the beskar dagger and blaster to the Dark Trooper. He threw the blaster away, but he tucked the beskar dagger into his belt. (Y/N) glared fiercely. They knew he would use it to make more of his despicable imperial alloy to pervert the Mandalorian ways further for the Empire’s benefit.

            The Dark Trooper walked forward, each step reverberating through the cavern menacingly. He brought his hand up and removed his helmet in a fluid motion. Moff Gideon. He smirked at (Y/N) before looking up at Bo-Katan and Mando.

            “Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place,” he said. “You were a talented people, but your time has passed. However, as you can see, Mandalore will live on in me.” He grinned in perverse pleasure at twisting Mandalore to his will.

            But Mandalore will never bow to you, thought (Y/N). Not as long as I’m here. They had sworn to kill him. They would do it. They would protect Mandalore from Gideon’s darkness.

            “Thanks to your planet’s rich resources, I have created the next generation Dark Trooper suit forged from beskar alloy,” said Gideon proudly. He stepped forward and gazed condescendingly at (Y/N). “And the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it. You see, every society has something to offer. The cloners. The Jedi. And even the Mandalorians. By aggregating the best of each, I will create an army that will bring order to the galaxy.”

            Gideon’s eyes flicked up to Bo-Katan, and his smirk grew even more sickeningly wide. “Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise?”

            (Y/N) trashed against the troopers holding them, their ferocity still mounting as their determination to protect their family and the Mandalorians matched it.

            “Activate the interceptors and bombers,” ordered Gideon.

            “No!” shouted Bo-Katan.

            Around the cavern, stormtroopers ran to ships and loaded in. They had the firepower to destroy the Mandalorians above the atmosphere with the element of surprise.

            “In but a few moments, the Purge of Mandalore will be complete,” said Gideon.

            His words were cold and sent icy chills down the Mandalorian’s backs as the dire situation grew worse before their eyes. (Y/N) just grew hotter with resolve and barely restrained ferocity.

            Gideon jerked his head towards (Y/N). “Take them to the debriefing room.”

            The stormtroopers forced them up to their feet, and they glared at Gideon. Their Ushti markings creased with their eyes, sharp as the knives they wanted to drive into Gideon’s chest.

            “I’m going to kill you,” said (Y/N). Their gaze was pure fire, but their words were ice cold.

            “You swore that once, and yet your situation hasn’t improved much since then,” said Gideon cruelly.

            (Y/N)’s hand curled into a fist, and beyond the sealed doors, the Darksaber quivered at Bo-Katan’s side. “I’m going to do it. I swear on Mandalore the Great and all the Mandalorians who came before that I will kill you.”

            Gideon narrowed his eyes and jerked his head to the stormtroopers again, who dragged (Y/N) away. They just glared at him with even conviction. It was nearly disconcerting how thoroughly they believed they would kill him.

            “(Y/N)!” shouted Mando through the window as they were dragged away.

            “Now that’s handled…” Gideon turned back to the trapped Mandalorians. “Bo-Katan, I believe it is time for you to surrender the Darksaber and to tell these people that this planet is mine.”

            “We fight for Mandalore,” said Bo-Katan. “Now!”

            “This is the Way.” Paz lifted his machine gun and began firing at the window.

            Bo-Katan darted to the second sealed door and activated the Darksaber. It was heavy in her hands, but as she protected Mandalore, it lightened slightly as she pushed it into the heavy metal barrier keeping the Mandalorians trapped.

            “Open the blaster doors,” said Gideon. “Kill them.”

            The doors keeping the troopers from the Mandalorians opened. Paz was the first line of defense as Bo-Katan cut a whole in the sealed doors. She kicked it open.

            “Move out!” she ordered.

            Mando pushed Grogu through quickly, guarding his kid. He needed to get to (Y/N) quickly. He had no time to wait.

            “Move out!” said the Mandalorians, shooting as they backed up to escape the trap.

            “Fall back! I’ll cover the rear!” said Paz nobly.

            In a few moments, it was just Bo-Katan, Paz, and Mando left. Paz kept firing as more troopers flew down, replacing anyone that fell to his machine gun.

            “We’re clear. Fall back!” said Bo-Katan.

            “Come on. We’re not leaving you behind,” said Mando.

            Paz looked back at them for a moment before slamming his fist on the blast door controls. The doors shut once more, leaving him exposed on the landing pad. “Go. There are too many.

            “No!” said Bo-Katan and Mando, rushing forward to the window.

            “Save your ad’ika, Din,” said Paz. “Protect Mandalore. This is the Way.”

            He turned back to his fight and began firing once more, never stopping or withholding as more and more troopers surrounded him.

            “This is the Way,” murmured Mando before he and Bo-Katan obeyed Paz and ran to the hole in the other blast doors.

            Paz remained behind to defend Mandalore to the end of his life.

l

            The Mandalorians hurried back through the tunnels of Mandalore.

            Bo-Katan was quick to radio Axe. He was the only one getting close to the fleet. They needed to know the fight was coming to them. “Moff Gideon is alive,” she said. “He’s gathered his forces, and he’s using our home world as his base. They’re sending up fighting to destroy the fleet. Evacuate everyone! Use the capital ship as a decoy. We can’t beat them in the air. We have to beat them on the ground.”

            They arrived at a split in the path and Mando stopped. Bo-Katan turned to him questioningly.

            “I need to find (Y/N),” said Mando. “I can’t leave them with Gideon.”

            Bo-Katan nodded in understanding. “Protect your ad’ika,” she said.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “This is the Way,” said Mando.

            “This is the Way,” said Bo-Katan. She and the Mandalorians split off and ran one direction.

            Mando turned with Grogu and ran the other. (Y/N), I’m coming.

Chapter Text

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes as the two stormtroopers dragged them through the halls of Moff Gideon’s base on Mandalore. Their arms remained bound, unable to move and direct the Force. But (Y/N) wasn’t going to let that stop them.

            They pushed off of the ground and Force jumped backwards. They flipped in the air, kicking out at the two stormtroopers trying to grab ahold of them. The two fell back, and (Y/N) dropped into a crouch beside one. Smoothly, they grabbed a dagger and stabbed the fallen stormtrooper in the throat. Before they could cut themself free, the other got back up and grabbed his blaster. He fired, and (Y/N) rolled to the side to dodge.

            They pulled the dead trooper’s blaster from his hip with their bound hands and shot back at the trooper, forcing him to step back as the shots hit his beskar alloy armor. His blaster clattered to the floor, but he just fired his grappling wire next. It wrapped around (Y/N)’s tied hands and dragged them forward sharply, twisting them so their blaster fell.

            The trooper pulled them over and ran the wire around them throat, instantly putting pressure. (Y/N) gasped and reached up to the wire, trying to grab at it. The trooper responded by grabbing his dagger and raising it.

            A gloved hand grabbed the trooper’s wrist and twisted. A sharp snap echoed. Mando had arrived. The stormtrooper cried out sharply, turned, and fired at Mando. The shot friend Mando’s blaster, but it didn’t stop Mando from knocking him back into the wall. Not giving him time to recover, Mando turned him around, tightened his hand around his neck, and twisted. Crack. The trooper fell, dead.

            “Buir!” said (Y/N), a relieved grin spreading across their face as they scrambled to their feet.

            Mando holstered his blaster and pulled (Y/N) into a hug. “Ad’ika,” he breathed in relief. His grip tightened. “I was so worried. Are you alright?”

            “A few bruises, but I’m still here,” said (Y/N).

            Grogu cooed happily, waving at (Y/N). They grinned and waved their bound hands. Grogu directed IG-12 to reach out and break the bindings.

            “Your blaster,” said (Y/N), glancing at the broken blaster. After the fighting earlier, it had been the last remaining weapon.

            Mando shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll fight without it. But I’m gonna need you guys to be brave, okay?” he said. A battle was upon them, and it was either all their lives lost or Gideon defeated. “We can’t keep running. If we don’t take out Moff Gideon, this will never end.”

            Grogu babbled softly.

            “We’re with you,” said (Y/N).

            Mando nodded. “Good.” He pressed the comms button. “Bo-Katan, come in.”

            “Received,” replied Bo-Katan, the message turned up so (Y/N) and Grogu could hear. “Where are you?”

            “We’re safe. I got to (Y/N). We’re going after Moff Gideon,” said Mando. “Do you have a location?”

            “No. We are under attack. I have to get the troops to safety,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Understood,” said Mando.

            “Stay safe. And tell (Y/N) I’m glad they’re free,” said Bo-Katan, signing off.

l

            “Sir, the fighters and bombers have launched,” reported a stormtrooper to Moff Gideon. “Their capital ship will soon be destroyed.”

            Gideon narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the heat signatures moving through the base. “But the Ushti and the Mandalorian have escaped.”

            “Shall we engage?” questioned the stormtrooper.

            Gideon put his helmet on. “No. I’ll take care of them myself.”

l

            “R5,” murmured Mando through the radio as their clan crept through the corridors. “Come in, R5.”

            R5 beeped across the comms.

            “We need you, buddy,” said Mando. “You’re gonna have to scomp into the base and get us the location of Moff Gideon’s command center.”

            R5 beeped again, sounding almost nervous.

            “I’m sorry, I don’t speak binary,” said Mando.

            “We’re counting on you,” said (Y/N).

            While R5 worked, Mando, (Y/N), and Grogu continued on through the base. At each corner, they carefully watched for stormtroopers patrolling and avoided any encounters that would alert more enemies than they could handle.

            “R5, how are those schematics coming?” asked Mando. R5 beeped, and a map lit up on Mando’s gauntlet. “Good job, buddy.” He pointed to the hologram. “That’s the command center. The communications log says that’s where he operates from. That’s where we’re goin’. Ready?”

            Grogu nodded. “Yeah,” said (Y/N).

            Mando nodded. “Stay close to me, okay? Let’s go.”

            The group stayed close together as they continued through the halls of the imperial base. So far, the way to Gideon had been relatively clear, only security patrols that were easy to avoid. The first real barrier they came to was a long hall of red shields. Each field blocked off tough troopers in some sort of stasis. The guards of the command center would be tough to get by.

            “The command center is down there,” murmured (Y/N), looking through the shields.

            Mando nodded. “I don’t have any weapons, so this might get messy. Stay back and stay safe.”

            (Y/N) simply wasn’t going to listen to that and privately readied themself for a fight.

            “R5,” said Mando, radioing in. “There’s some barrier shields. I’m gonna need you to deactivate them one at a time. On my command. Got it?” R5 beeped. Mando nodded to Grogu and (Y/N). “Deactivate the first shield.”

            The red energy dissipated, and the troopers turned towards Mando and (Y/N). Mando knocked one to the ground, and (Y/N) swept the legs out from another. They kicked him in the head while Mando snagged a dagger from his opponent and stabbed him. He turned and threw the dagger into (Y/N)’s enemy as he attempted to stand. He fell back, and (Y/N) snagged the dagger before he disappeared from reach.

            Beyond the shields, the other troopers recognized the danger and were running to open the shields. However, R5 interfered with them, keeping Mando and (Y/N) confined away from the troopers. Mando knelt and grabbed the dagger from the second opponent.

            “R5, next shield,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) tensed as they watched the energy dissipate. These opponents were not caught by surprise, and both held shields and electrical staffs. Mando and (Y/N) each went for one. Mando dodged around the shield and staff to kick his enemy back towards the energy shields. (Y/N) leapt over their trooper as he attacked, slashing down as they landed. The strike landed across the exposed arms of the trooper. (Y/N) threw out a hand, and he went tumbling off the side.

            Mando grabbed the staff from his opponent and drove it down onto him, finishing his fight. He picked up the shield, now wielding both. (Y/N) grabbed the fallen dagger, one in each hand.

            “R5, next shield,” said Mando.

            The next red shield deactivated, and Mando rushed into his opponent. The shields collided, and sparks flew as he drove their electrified weapons at one another. (Y/N) was knocked back by the shield of their enemy, but they rolled over their shoulder to their feet. Narrowing their eyes, (Y/N) watched the trooper advance, extending his electrical weapon further.

            Mando slammed his weapon on his trooper’s shield, and the man stumbled. Mando kicked at him, and he fell. Mando ended the fight with a swift attack with the staff, dropping it and grabbing the blaster on the trooper’s belt.

            Behind him, the trooper advanced on (Y/N), swinging low at them. They jumped up, and as the trooper raised his shield and weapon, (Y/N) used the shield to push themself further away while simultaneously knocking the trooper down. They flipped over and landed beside Mando, who swiftly shot the trooper as he stood. The shot bounced off his armor, but it caused him to stumble, and that was long enough for Mando to drive his shield into his back and send him off the side.

            “R5, next shield!” said Mando, panting from the exertion but holding the shield and blaster tightly.

            (Y/N) glanced at the last two troopers. Both only held blasters. The final shield went down, and Mando slid forward, his shield above his head. One trooper was knocked down, and (Y/N) finished him off with a well-placed slash of their dagger. The other raised his blaster and was forced to hesitate between Mando and (Y/N). Mando didn’t give a moment to decide, knocking his hand away with his shield and shooting him point-blank.

            “Are you alright, Verd’ika?” asked Mando, glancing at them.

            (Y/N) nodded. “I’m fine.”

            “Stay behind me, next time. I would’ve handled them,” said Mando. He couldn’t risk them getting injured again.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I wanted to help.”

            Mando sighed in resignation. “R5, good job, buddy,” he said across the comms.

            IG-12 stepped forward, and Grogu peered around the corner to see their progress. He cooed happily upon seeing their success. Mando nodded to him, and Grogu came forward. They were nearly at the command center.

            Mando and (Y/N) held their weapons tightly as the next set of doors opened. They found themself in a room lined with pods with figures barely seen in the hazy liquid. (Y/N), Grogu, and Mando looked at the pods, frowning. Gideon. A dozen Gideons were contained around them. (Y/N) wrinkled their nose in distaste.

            “Wait here,” said Mando protectively, heading towards to the control panel.

            Grogu whimpered as he took a step closer to (Y/N). As Mando examined the controls, (Y/N) and Grogu looked at one of the sleeping Gideons.

            “That’s not Gideon,” said Mando. “Those are his clones.”

            The eyes of the closest clone popped opened, and (Y/N) and Grogu jerked back.

            “Kill them. Kill them now or I will,” said (Y/N), glaring at the clone. They hated having one Gideon around. A dozen…No way.

            “On it,” said Mando, already having the same idea. He flipped several buttons and powered down the life support. An alarm blared as the pods began overheating. “Let’s go.”

            As they ran out of the room, the pods exploded, spilling liquid onto the floor below, draining just as the life did from the clones. (Y/N) grinned in satisfaction. They hadn’t beaten Gideon yet, but they had destroyed his project, the height of his designs for power. That would land a blow. (Y/N) was coming for him.

l

            The Mandalorians flew back in through the cavern ceiling. The entire troop had arrived, flying in, armed and ready for the battle for Mandalore. The Armorer brandished her hammer and tongs alongside her Covert’s blasters. Bo-Katan raised the Darksaber above her head, leading the charge. The blade was heavy in her hands, but she was prepared to fight for her home. The details didn’t matter.

            The troopers jumped into the air with their own jetpacks, and the squadrons met midair. The Retake of Mandalore had begun.

l

            Mando, (Y/N), and Grogu walked into the command center, weapons at the ready. A holographic map of the facility glowed blue in the center of the room while another door rested beyond it. Mando surveyed the room with both his stolen blasters raised, and (Y/N) restlessly spun their daggers in their hands. The doors slid closed with a clank behind them, and (Y/N) and Mando whirled. Not good.

            Mando approached the door and examined it, trying to open it again. It was shut tight, leaving them stuck as the door on the other side of the room slid open with a hiss. The hologram deactivated as a black-clad figure stepped out. Mando moved against the wall, and Grogu and (Y/N) followed suit. Each peered out around a pillar as the shadowy figure moved into view.

            “My clones were finally going to be perfect,” said Gideon, voice filled with anger. “The best parts of me but improved by adding the one thing I never had. The Force.” His quiet anger turned loud and rageful. “I was isolating the potential to wield the Force and incorporating it into an unstoppable army! And you smothered them before they could draw their first breath.”

            “Someone had to do it!” shouted (Y/N) at the same moment that Mando stepped out and shot at Gideon.

            He responded by blocking the shots with his beskar armor and fired a missile at Mando. The Mandalorian dodged to the side as the missile exploded at the edge of the room, sending a wave of heat over them. Gideon put on his helmet.

            Mando and (Y/N) ran out to attack. Mando fired at Gideon, jumped up, and flew into him. With his upgraded armor, Gideon slowed himself and threw Mando over his shoulder. Gideon kicked the blasters out of the way as he approached Mando. (Y/N) ran out and grabbed a blaster, shooting at Gideon, who was forced to turn and face them. He knocked (Y/N) back with a swing of his hand, and they hit the ground hard.

            Mando struggled to his feet in alarm, but Gideon was on him in a moment, punching him and grabbing him by the throat. He roughly tossed Mando to the side, leaving him and (Y/N) on the ground. He slammed a fist down, but Mando rolled away.

            Behind them, guards in red robes and armor stepped from the shadows with electrified staffs. (Y/N) and Mando struggled up, standing back-to-back as Gideon and the three guards circled them. The three guards attacked, and Mando pushed (Y/N) behind him as he twisted to take the hits with his beskar and knock the guards back. They returned as fast as he could attack though, and a sharp hit to his neck shocked Mando to his knees.

            “Buir!” cried (Y/N), and they threw out their hand, pushing the guard hurting Mando back.

            The one behind them landed a hit to their side, and (Y/N) gasped as they fell to their knees as electricity shocked through them. They turned and raised their arms to throw the rest back, but the third guard pressed their staff into (Y/N)’s side, and the current running through their body caused them to writhe in pain and cry out. They could feel the still-healing injury in their side aching and adding to their agony.

            “No. No. No. No!” IG-12’s voice rang out as Grogu yelled to protect his family.

            The three guards straightened; staffs leaving (Y/N) and Mando’s sides. The warriors in red moved towards Grogu in IG-12. He backed up into the command center as the guards in red advanced.

            “No!” shouted Mando and (Y/N), struggling up to their feet.

            Gideon shot Mando in the back and used a grappling wire to pull (Y/N) to the ground once more. Before they could get to Grogu, the doors to the command center closed. Gideon tugged (Y/N) back, and they were dragged backwards even as they fought with the wire around their throat. Gideon kicked them, and they cried out. Mando pulled himself to his feet and ran at Gideon to protect his ad’ika, but Gideon fired his flamethrower, forcing Mando to cover himself and back away. (Y/N) kicked Gideon’s leg, forcing him to shift to kick them, and Mando ran forward, punching Gideon. The attack barely affected him, and he just kneed Mando and forced him to his knees again.

            (Y/N) reached for a dagger near them, but Gideon grabbed their collar and dragged them up. He punched them, and they fell back, rolling across the ground with a groan as they attempted to gain their bearings again. Mando stood and punched at Gideon, but he caught Mando’s fist, forced him to his knees, and kicked him back. Gideon advanced on (Y/N) again with steady steps, preparing to continue his assault.

            A blur of blue sent him flying to the side. Bo-Katan landed in a crouch between Gideon and the Mandalorians he’d been attacking.

            She looked back at Mando. “I’ve got this. Protect your adike.”

            Mando nodded, grabbed his blaster, and ran to the doors to get to Grogu. (Y/N) stood but groaned, holding their side. The injury from the pirates was rearing its head from the attacks to their side, and Gideon now stood between them and their family again. They took a deep breath and tensed. They were in the fight with Bo-Katan.

            “Bo-Katan Kryze. What’s it gonna be this time?” questioned Gideon. “Surrender or fight?”

            “What do you say, (Y/N)?” said Bo-Katan.

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. “Fight.”

            Bo-Katan tossed a dagger to them and extended the Darksaber. The pure white around the blade reflected off her blue armor and sent dancing shadows over (Y/N) as they held the dagger. Gideon extended a staff of sizzling purple energy.

            A moment passed.

            Then Gideon attacked. He swung down at Bo-Katan, and she blocked with the Darksaber, even as it weighed heavy in her hands. (Y/N) dodged around Gideon, striking down at him, but he used the length of his staff to block them as well. As Bo-Katan stumbled back from an attack, he swung back, throwing (Y/N) back with a strike to their wounded side.

            Gideon forced Bo-Katan back, knocking her back with powerful blows that she couldn’t block properly with the Darksaber continuing to strangely fight her. Gideon kicked her back, and Bo-Katan fell. She fought to get to her feet, but the Darksaber weighed on her, and Gideon could see.

            “Still a pretender to the throne,” sneered Gideon, kicking Bo-Katan even as she attempted to block him.

            She groaned on the ground, fighting to push herself up. Behind them, Grogu, out of IG, and Mando emerged from the command center, victorious against the red guards, but injured and far away. Mando was barely standing from exersion. Above them, the Mandalorians fought valiantly in the air with daggers, blasters, and even hammers. The Armorer smashed through lines of troopers, determined to free Mandalore.

            Below, Gideon stood over Bo-Katan. He kicked the Darksaber away from her and smirked beneath his helmet. “I would give you a warrior’s death, but you are a failed Mandalorian. The Darksaber rejects you, but I will return with it to rule Mandalore in the Empire’s image.”

            “No,” growled Bo-Katan.

            “I will make you watch as I complete the Purge of Mandalore, one insolent Mandalorian at a time,” sneered Gideon.

            He turned to (Y/N), lying prone on the ground from their injuries. He swung his staff around and walked towards them. He stood over them, and Bo-Katan tried to push herself up. Mando tried to run forward, but he fell to his knees, holding Grogu tight as his wounds caught up to him.

            “You swore to kill me, Ushti,” mocked Gideon, lording over (Y/N) from above. “It seems I will be the one to kill you.” He raised his staff, and the cruel purple light cast a sickly glow over (Y/N)’s eyes and amber Ushti markings as they stared up.

            “No!” cried Bo-Katan. She reached out, trying to stop Gideon from attacking (Y/N). She couldn't let them get hurt.

            Grogu cried out for his sibling.

            “Ad’ika!” shouted Mando desperately. No, no, no! He pushed himself onto his arms, trying to stand. He needed to get to (Y/N), needed to protect them, needed to be their father. If he lost them, Mando would be destroyed. "Ad'ika!"

            The world was silent to (Y/N) as they watched the staff raise above them. This was their death, the end of their story and their path. (Y/N) didn’t want it. This couldn’t be it!

            “You are stronger than you realize, Mando’ika. Fight.”

            The soft murmur of Mandalore the Great snapped the world into focus.

            Gideon swung the staff down. (Y/N)’s hand snapped out. The staff stopped.

            (Y/N) glared up at Gideon. Their Ushti markings were striking in silver light.

            Won! Worthy! Wield!

            The Darksaber sang with joy within (Y/N)’s hands.

Chapter Text

Mouse Note: And here is the moment of what I see as the biggest writing failure of Season 3 of the Mandalorian and the only issue I had with it. So, naturally, I fixed it. Also, the best chapter I wrote in this series

            The Darksaber hummed with energy in (Y/N)’s hands. The Mandalorians and Moff watching them froze in shock at just how easily (Y/N) held the blade. (Y/N) threw out their free hand, and Gideon flew backwards, struggling to come to a halt as (Y/N) stood.

            They rolled their wrist, ignoring the ache of their side. The Darksaber thrummed with power by their side as (Y/N) stood tall and watched as Gideon straightened. He watched them warily. The saber seemed to react much too naturally to their grip as if meant for them.

            And it was.

            The pieces came together in the watchers’ minds. Mando remembered (Y/N) disarming Gideon, destroying his chance of victory on the cruiser so long ago. Bo-Katan recalled (Y/N) killing the creature that had trapped Mando. If there had been any doubt in the blade, each moment solidified (Y/N) as the true wielder of the Darksaber.

            (Y/N) spun the Darksaber at their side once more. The silver light danced across their burnt orange Ushti markings. “What’s the matter, Gideon? I thought you wanted to kill the Mandalorians. Don’t tell me you’re hesitating.”

            Gideon growled beneath his helmet and gripped his staff tightly. He ran at (Y/N) and swung his staff down. (Y/N) blocked, spun, and slashed down at Gideon. The beskar alloy of his armor didn’t hold up against the pure lightsaber.

              His helmet shattered as he reared back. Gideon’s eyes were vessels of pure malice as he glared at (Y/N). They had destroyed his clones, taken the Darksaber for themself, and now they had proven beskar alloy wasn’t a match to the real deal. They were destroying everything Gideon had built.

            Gideon swung his staff down, and (Y/N) parried. Each move Gideon made, (Y/N) mirrored with form they had spent hours on alongside Luke. Even without a lightsaber, his training had instilled in them the instincts needed to fight.

            Mando watched in amazement, holding Grogu closer protectively as he tried to push himself up. His ad’ika had grown so much, and although his stomach curled in worry about (Y/N), he couldn’t help the tide of pride sweeping over him. The Armorer was right. They had the makings of a great Mandalorian, and they were barely getting started.

            Bo-Katan’s eyes widened beneath her helmet as she watched (Y/N) fight. The Darksaber swung effortlessly in their hands, meant to be there. That was the power it was supposed to instill in its wielder. (Y/N) was perfectly matched for it. Every part of their fight seemed instinctual—(Y/N) was born for it.

            Gideon was a raging monster. Each move was filled with anger, slashing and spinning and hitting at the teenager before him. He was driven only by pure greed to win, to destroy. He needed kill (Y/N), drive them into dust. Gideon had to win the Darksaber back, defeat Mandalore, become the great leader the Empire needs. He just needed to kill the Jedi first.

            (Y/N) was calm and practiced. Each violent attack on them was parried with smooth precision. (Y/N) was in their element. Every motion felt practiced and right. The Darksaber hummed with approval, whispering encouragement as they fought. (Y/N) felt the Force thrum as they jumped and pushed Gideon back. They were nowhere near a master, but the fight was in their blood.

            “This fight is mine!” snarled Gideon. He slammed his staff down, and (Y/N) braced against it. “I will erase this planet.” He pressed down, and (Y/N) was forced to their knees. “And I will erase you, an Ushti who will die a no one!” He kicked out, and (Y/N) grunted as they slid backwards. Their pirate injury was bleeding heavily again. “You are nothing!”

            “(Y/N)!” cried Mando, pulling himself towards them.

            (Y/N) looked at him and felt themself push up to their feet again. The Darksaber thrummed louder with power as pure determination overtook them.

            “I am (Y/N) of the Ushti Hilo Clan,” said (Y/N), kicking Gideon.

            He grunted as he stumbled back.

            “I am Force-Sensitive, trained by Luke Skywalker,” said (Y/N), throwing a hand out.

            Gideon flew backwards, slamming into a container behind him. His staff clattered away across the floor.

            “I know who I am,” said (Y/N).

            Gideon pushed up to his feet, his powered armor supporting him. He glared at (Y/N). “I will kill you and take that saber for myself. Mandalore will fall to its knees before me.”

            (Y/N) paused and gazed at the Darksaber in their hands.

            They looked to their buir, the brave Mandalorian fighting for his planet and his people, forged by bonds of loyalty, stronger than blood.

            They glanced at Grogu, their brother, cooing for them, reaching out to support them with the Force, their family.

            They turned to Bo-Katan, the princess of Mandalore, the woman who had never given up on her planet, dedicated her life to protecting and serving her people.

            They watched the Armorer fight, willing to risk herself and her people to bring Mandalore back and forge a new era.

            They saw the Nite Owls and Covert battling for Mandalore, ready to unite for their home and bring Mandalore back to glory.

             They felt the pure determination to protect the Mandalorian Way radiating from everyone fighting for their home.

            “No,” said (Y/N). They knew what needed to be done.

            “No?” Gideon crowed with laughter. “You don’t have a choice. One by one I will end the Mandalorians and raze Mandalore until all that is left is ruins and me, victorious with the Darksaber, ruler of Mandalore in the Empire’s image!”

            “No,” said (Y/N) again. “You don’t get it. Mandalore isn’t yours. It will never be yours. It won’t be ruled by someone like you.” They gripped the Darksaber tightly. “And if this weapon means you have a chance to, then I will make sure you never have the chance to wield it.”

            Gideon laughed cruelly. “I will always have the chance. Mandalore is ruled by it. I had it once, I will possess it again.”

            (Y/N) shook their head. “No, you won’t. Because Mandalore shouldn’t be ruled by a single weapon. Mandalore deserves to be ruled by someone who fights for it, who protects its people.”

            The Darksaber deactivated at their side. (Y/N)’s hands slid up around it, and their grip tightened.

            “I won’t let Mandalore be destroyed over this anymore,” they said. “I won’t let Mandalore succumb to darkness.”

            The Force thrummed, and (Y/N) pressed it into the hilt.

            Gideon’s eyes widened. “No!” he shouted, rushing for them.

            Mando’s eyes widened, and Grogu cooed in worry. Bo-Katan gasped.

           (Y/N) pressed their hands together.

            The Darksaber shattered.

            The blade exploded.

            The reverberation of power sent (Y/N) and Gideon flying. Mando closed his eyes behind his visor and brought his hand up to guard Grogu, whose ears flattened in fear. Bo-Katan shut her eyes and turned her head away from the blast. Above the platform, the Armorer, Nite Owls, Covert, and troopers were all forced to stop to watch the explosion billow out from their leaders below.

           Mando's eyes opened, and he was immediately scanning for (Y/N). He could see them lying a few feet from where they'd stood, lying on their side. Blood splattered the ground beneath them. His eyes widened. "Ad'ika!" he cried. His heart leapt for joy as he saw (Y/N) stir.

           (Y/N) pushed themself shakily onto their arms. They coughed, blood seeping from the wound on their side. Around them, shards of crystal from the Darksaber glinted like dying stars on the ground. (Y/N) swept their hand over them, pulling them to their pocket. They still respected the Darksaber—it only ever wanted to serve Mandalore as it had its original wielder—but they had to destroy it. Anyone could hurt Mandalore and rip its people apart once more if the Darksaber existed.

            A few meters away of them, Gideon lay in a heap on the ground. The pure energy of the explosion had cracked his beskar alloy, the amalgamation of metals unable to handle the power of a lightsaber. It was no equal to pure beskar, only a perversion of the Empire.

            Gideon lifted his head, and his eyes widened as he saw scraps of metal lying across the ground, as destroyed as his ambitions. “What…have you done?!” he shouted, trying to pull himself up. His now useless armor just weighed him down as if the beskar itself was fighting against him, trying to protect Mandalore.

            “I made sure no one like you can ever divide Mandalore again,” said (Y/N), their voice even with pure conviction.

            They pushed themself to their feet. Blood dripped down their side, and they pressed a hand to it futilely. Their hand came away stained red, but that wasn’t going to stop them. They stepped towards him. One movement at a time, even as their body screamed at them, (Y/N) advanced on Gideon.

            Above them, the Mandalorians were finishing their battle. The sky erupted into flames as the cruiser crashed towards the surface of the planet. Bo-Katan and Mando were shakily pulling themselves to their feet.

            The battle was ending. And it was time for Gideon’s reign to end as well.

            (Y/N) stood over Gideon before falling to their knees. Their eyes were set with determination as they met his gaze, still filled with malice and promises of cruelty if he ever stood again.

            But (Y/N) had made a promise too.

            “I swore I would kill you,” said (Y/N) calmly.

            Gideon chuckled cruelly and sneered. “Jedi don’t kill for revenge.”

            (Y/N) reached out and pulled their beskar Ushti dagger from Gideon’s belt. The silver metal ran red with the blood dripping from their hand. Their eyes were set with purpose as they met Gideon’s gaze.

            “I’m not a Jedi. I’m a Mandalorian.”

            Gideon’s eyes widened.

            “This is the Way.”

            (Y/N) plunged their dagger down.

            Gideon gasped, coughing for air and reaching out for (Y/N) as they ripped their knife away and pulled back. “Manda—lorian…” He fell back, limp.

            It was over.

            (Y/N) stumbled back before collapsing to the floor. They fell into silver armor as Mando pushed himself forward to his ad’ika.

            “Buir…?” coughed (Y/N), gazing blearily up at Mando as the blood loss caught up to them.

            “I’m here, Ad’ika. We’re here,” said Mando, holding them close. (Y/N) relaxed in his hold in exhaustion. Grogu reached out for their arm and cooed comfortingly.

            “We need to get out of here!” warned Bo-Katan.

            Above them, the cruiser was crashing down on the base. Axe had made it to them, and he was going to destroy every remnant of the Empire on Mandalore.

            Good, thought (Y/N) through the delirium of blood loss, A clean slate for Mandalore…

            “My jetpack is out of fuel,” said Mando, holding (Y/N) tighter and reaching for Grogu. He wasn’t sure he could protect them, but he’d be with them.

            Bo-Katan gazed up at the crashing cruiser. “Mine too.” She activated her small energy shield. “But I’m with you until the end.”

            “Buir,” murmured (Y/N) as their head lulled against Mando’s chest. They weren’t sure if they’d be able to speak again. Their injuries were agonizing, and the heat of the flaming cruiser was rushing over their skin. “Buir…I love you.”

            Mando sucked in a breath, and he pulled (Y/N) and Grogu closer. “I love you, too, (Y/N). You and Grogu are my adike. I love you.”

            (Y/N) smiled, and their eyes fluttered close. If they were dying, then at least they were happy. The final scene they saw before them as they fell into unconsciousness was Grogu raising a hand before them as the flames rushed towards them.

            The Force hummed as Grogu’s power rose around them.

            (Y/N) smiled.

            This is the Way.

Chapter Text

            (Y/N) blinked as they opened their eyes. This time, they weren’t surprise to see Mandalore the Great standing before them. The great Mand’alor sat on a throne above them as (Y/N) pulled themself to their feet. The injury on their side raged with pain even in their vision, but they refused to cower at it.

            Mandalore the Great stood from their throne and slowly approached (Y/N). “You protected Mandalore,” they said, voice smooth as ever.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Of course I did. I’m a Mandalorian.”

            “Yes, you are,” said Mandalore the Great, a hint of amusement in their voice.

            “Has the darkness around Mandalore lifted?” asked (Y/N).

            Mandalore the Great nodded. “Now all that is left is to rebuild and hold our people together. Those will present their own challenges, and battles may arise, but we must find unity and strength in ourselves.”

            (Y/N) winced. “I, uh, kind of destroyed the one weapon that seemed to be a symbol of Mandalorians. That might not help.”

            “The Darksaber,” said Mandalore the Great musingly.

            “Yeah. I shattered it. All that’s left is shards,” admitted (Y/N). “I’m sorry about that, I just couldn’t—”

            “You couldn’t let Mandalore be at risk of being divided and ruled by someone cruel due to holding that weapon,” said Mandalore the Great. They understood.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N).

            Mandalore the Great paused before continuing. “The Darksaber…I never encountered it. I was before its time, but I watched Tarre Viszla grow with it and rule Mandalore with a steady hand. It was a weapon crafted to protect Mandalore, and it did so well. But the wielders became less worried for Mandalore and more concerned over their own power.” Their helmet reflected (Y/N)’s face back at them, but the gaze from within was piercing nonetheless. “Perhaps one day it may be reconstructed. But until Mandalore has found its own strength and unity in its own people, I believe it is best to keep such a symbol out of the hands of those who would hurt Mandalore.”

            “It was never the Darksaber’s fault.” (Y/N) understood it only ever sensed Tarre Viszla’s desire for power to protect Mandalore and gifted such power to every subsequent wielder. “I just couldn’t leave something like that to divide Mandalore.”

            “It was a wise action,” said Mandalore the Great. “You followed your Way.”

            “Yeah, by destroying a piece of Mandalorian history,” winced (Y/N).

            “No, by protecting Mandalore, fighting to the very edges of your ability for it,” said Mandalore the Great. “You are growing into yourself, Mando’ika. You are becoming all that you were meant to.”

            (Y/N)’s heart was aflame with the words, a deep-rooted sense of purpose blossoming within as the Force hummed and swirled around them. They let their eyes close at the comforting feeling.

l

            “Come on, Ad’ika,” murmured Mando, crouching beside (Y/N)’s body in the makeshift infirmary.

            Many other Mandalorians were being treated in rooms beyond this one, but he couldn’t bring himself to do his duty to his Covert and check on their condition as Bo-Katan or the Armorer did. He could only stay beside (Y/N). Blood stained their side again, and labored breaths shook their chest as the e-Bacta struggled to take effect against the reopened wound.

            “Come on, (Y/N), fight,” said Mando, holding their hand tightly. “You’re strong, Verd’ika. You did so well, you saved me, Grogu, Bo, everyone. So just come back to me.”

            Grogu cooed and reached out a hand. He closed his eyes and let the Force flow through him. He needed to push (Y/N) to come back. He didn’t have words like Mando, but he had the Force to call them. And Grogu wasn’t going to give up.

            The exhaustion from fighting back the flames of the cruiser crashing were still deep in Grogu’s little bones, but he managed to seal (Y/N)’s wound nonetheless. It was crude, the wound still healing, but Grogu had been determined to bring (Y/N) back.

            (Y/N)’s eyes opened slowly, and they coughed. Mando’s head snapped up, and he was instantly there to guide them to a seated position.

            “Ad’ika,” he breathed in relief, holding them tightly.

            “Buir,” said (Y/N), voice hoarse but filled with joy at being alive and back in his arms. They looked at Grogu over his shoulder and held out a hand. Grogu cooed and took a hold of a finger with his hand.

            Their family was back together.

            Mando pulled back and held (Y/N)’s face in his hands. “You were so strong, Ad’ika. You scared me so much, but you were so stronger. My Verd’ika. My little warrior.”

            “I just wanted to protect you and your people,” said (Y/N).

            Mando shook his head. “Our people. You are a Mandalorian. You protected our people.”

            (Y/N) felt their eyes widened, and their vision blurred at the edges as tears gathered. They were a Mandalorian, an Ushti, Force-Sensitive, everything at once. And they were home. They closed their eyes and held Mando tightly. They were home.

            “You gave us quite the scare again, (Y/N).”

            (Y/N) pulled away and blinked to see Bo-Katan, her helmet on her hip, and the Armorer standing in the doorway of the room. Bo-Katan had spoken, and although her words were serious (she too had worried for (Y/N), horrified at the idea of losing the teenager), she had a smile playing on her lips. (Y/N) had survived, and she couldn’t be more thankful.

            “Indeed. The Mandalorians of old have guided you to life once more,” said the Armorer.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I’m just glad to be back.”

            “And we’re glad you’re alright,” said Bo-Katan. “You fought well, but you were gravely injured. We were worried.”

            (Y/N) turned further but winced as their stomach pulled uncomfortably. “I did what I had to for Mandalore.”

            “We actually…need to talk about the battle,” said Bo-Katan.

            Mando’s arm held (Y/N) tightly. “They’re injured. Can’t it wait?” He wasn’t worried about anything Bo-Katan might do, but he was extremely protective. (Y/N) had been injured, nearly died again. He was rightfully worried sick over their health.

            (Y/N) touched his arm. “Don’t worry, Buir. I can talk.”

            Mando gazed at them and saw the small smile and self-assuredness on their face. The ferocity and wildness they had possessed when he first met them was there, always resting below the surface for a fight, but they had grown. (Y/N) had become a warrior of spirit as well as body. And Mando was incredibly proud.

            He nodded. “Alright.”

            Bo-Katan inclined her head in acknowledgement of his feelings before looking to the Ushti-Mandalorian teenager. “(Y/N)…You wielded the Darksaber.”

            (Y/N) straightened. “Yes.”

            “And you were its true wielder,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Yes.”

            “And you destroyed it,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Yes.” (Y/N) looked between Bo-Katan, Mando, and the Armorer. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t let Gideon or anyone else like him have a chance at controlling Mandalore because of one weapon. Mandalore shouldn’t be divided over the wielder of a single saber. That’s not how Mandalore deserves to be ruled.”

            The Armorer nodded. “Bo-Katan and the people of her belief system believe in its power. My people did not. It would have continued to divide us.” She understood why (Y/N) had done it. They were seeking to protect Mandalore from itself.

            Bo-Katan was silent before nodding. Although she had spent so long fighting for the Darksaber, she knew the truth. Mandalore’s strength came from its people, not a single weapon.

            (Y/N) reached into their pocket and held out the shards of the crystal once housed within the Darksaber. “Maybe one day something similar can be rebuilt to properly protect Mandalore without dividing its people.” They held out the shards to the Armorer. She’d be able to protect the remnants. “But I think for now we should focus on the people.”

            The Armorer took the shards. “You are a wise Foundling, (Y/N). Mandalore the Great chose well to guide you.”

            Bo-Katan nodded. “Mandalore will grow stronger. The Darksaber is not our strength.”

            Mando held (Y/N) tightly, proud of all they had done and created. “Mandalorians like you are our strength.”

            (Y/N) looked around at all of them. “You guys fought just as bravely. Without seeing all you were willing to sacrifice for Mandalore, I wouldn’t have seen just how much I had to fight for. I couldn’t let any of that go to waste by Gideon taking the Darksaber and claiming to rule.”

            Bo-Katan nodded in understanding. “But it does leave a question of who to rule.”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Only you guys saw that it was me who held the Darksaber. Just say Gideon destroyed it. You can rule still, Bo-Katan.” They made a face. “Besides, I doubt you want me to lead. I'm a teenager.”

            She shook her head. “I didn’t earn the right to rule.”

            “Why? Because you didn’t hold the Darksaber? It is a weapon forged to protect Mandalore that was used unjustly to hurt its own people,” said (Y/N). “You did what it was created to do. You fought for Mandalore. You fought for your fellow Mandalorians. I think that’s more than deserving of rule.” They glanced to the Armorer beside Bo-Katan. “And if you’re worried about unity, just work together. You two have both led and protected your people for years. I can’t really think of people better suited to rebuilding a stronger Mandalore.”

            Silence followed the speech. Bo-Katan and the Armorer were quiet as they considered (Y/N)’s words. Mando stared at them, a smile hidden beneath his helmet. That was his ad’ika. They were a wildfire of power and fighting spirit but also aflame with the desire to protect their family and people. And that desire came out in the softness of their heart. Mando couldn’t be prouder of the person they were becoming.

            “This is the Way.” The Armorer was the first to speak. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as she bestowed the honor of acknowledging (Y/N)’s words in such a way.

            “This is the Way,” said Bo-Katan. She straightened and smiled at (Y/N) and then the Armorer. Together, they would protect and serve Mandalore and bring its people the unity and stability they deserved.

            “This is the Way,” said Mando, his hug tightening around Grogu and (Y/N), his adike.

            Grogu babbled, holding (Y/N)’s hand tighter as the Force hummed with his happiness.

            (Y/N) smiled. “This is the Way.”

l

            Drums boomed through the cave as Mandalorians gathered around the Living Waters. The Armorer stood in the shallow water. Ragnar Viszla walked through the crowd to the edge of the water, kneeling on the step above. The drumming stopped. (Y/N), Grogu, and Mando watched from the entrance as the first Mandalorian of the new era was anointed in the Living Waters. (Y/N) smiled as they felt the Force hum around them pleasantly. They could almost feel the spirit of Mandalore the Great watching in approval as their people returned to their home.

            The Armorer lifted a bowl of the Living Waters and spoke steadily. “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors…”

            “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors…” repeated Ragnar.

            “That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…” continued the Armorer.

            “That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor,” said Ragnar.

            “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart,” finished the Armorer.

            “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart,” concluded Ragnar. He bowed his helmeted head, and the Armorer poured the Waters over him.

            “This is the Way,” said the Armorer.

            “This is the Way,” repeated Ragnar.

            “This is the Way,” repeated the Mandalorians, even (Y/N).

            Ragnar stood and stepped back into the crowd. Mando took a step forward. Grogu was tucked under his arm, and (Y/N) took a deep breath before matching his steps. Bo-Katan nodded to them as they passed, encouraging them to go forward.

            Mando placed Grogu down on the steps, and (Y/N) stood back. Their brother would go first.

            “Grogu and (Y/N) are my apprentices,” said Mando. “They are no longer foundlings. Add them to the Song.”

            “Grogu is too young to speak, so he is too young to take the Creed,” said the Armorer.

            Grogu babbled sadly, and his ears drooped.

            “He must remain a foundling,” said the Armorer.

            “If…his parent gave permission, couldn’t he then become a Mandalorian apprentice?” said Mando.

            “Yes, but his parents are far from here, if they are even alive,” said the Armorer.

            Mando gazed at his foundlings as they looked back. “(Y/N) and Grogu are my adike. I wish to adopt them as my own.”

            Grogu perked up, and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. They would really be a family, not just in spirit but in name.

            The Armorer turned to Mando. “This is the Way.” Her air was that of finality. She knew they were a family and was more than prepared to make it official.

            “This is the Way,” said Mando.

            The Armorer turned to (Y/N) and Grogu. “Let it be written in Song that Din Djarin is accepting these foundlings as his adike. You are now Din Grogu and Din (Y/N), Mandalorian apprentices.”

            “This is the Way,” repeated the Mandalorians.

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet as Grogu reached up for him, and he picked him up. Their family was one now. They were Clan Din, a Clan of Three.

            “Din (Y/N).” The Armorer spoke again. “You are able to speak the Creed. Do you wish to take it?”

            (Y/N) stood before her, armor-less and helmetless. They were Ushti, Jedi, and Mandalorian. But they had no hesitation as they spoke. (Y/N)’s Way was this. They walked many paths. They were becoming who they were meant to be.

            “Yes.”

            Bo-Katan straightened in surprise. For a moment, she wondered how the other Mandalorians would react to one without armor or even helmet speaking the Creed, but as she gazed around herself, she sensed very little confusion. (Y/N) had fought for Mandalore, and a new era was upon them. (Y/N) was a Mandalorian.

            Mando’s breath caught. His ad’ika was going to take the Creed. (Y/N) was a Mandalorian through and through, and now they felt secure enough to speak that with confidence. Mando’s pride swelled as (Y/N) gazed with purpose at the Armorer.

            The Armorer inclined her head. “Kneel, Din (Y/N).”

            (Y/N) knelt, the water lapping at their knees.

            The Armorer dipped her bowl into the Living Waters. She lifted it above (Y/N)’s head and spoke. “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors…”

            “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors…” said (Y/N).

            “That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…”

            “That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…” (Y/N) felt a comforting heat swell through them as the Force hummed. A soft whisper of Mandalore the Great’s voice spoke with them.

            “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

            “And the words of the creed shall be forever forged in my heart,” finished (Y/N).

            The Armorer poured the Waters over them, and (Y/N)’s minds conjured the image of Mandalore the Great doing the same when they had first neared death.

            “This is the Way,” said the Armorer.

            “This is the Way,” said (Y/N).

            “This is the Way.” The Mandalorian’s voices echoed and surrounded them, but (Y/N) could hear Mandalore the Great’s voice in the amalgamation circling them.

            “You must leave Mandalore and take your apprentices on their journeys, just as your teacher did for you,” said the Armorer to Mando.

            “This is the Way,” said Mando.

            Grogu babbled in an attempt to say the same.

            “This is the Way,” said (Y/N) softly. Their hand reached out, almost unbidden, and touched the Living Waters. A quiet thought of thanks to Mandalore passed through them. The Force hummed, and for a moment, (Y/N) felt a soft rumble.

            Far below, a familiar creature opened its eyes once more. The mythosaur was awake.

l

            The Armorer and Bo-Katan stood side-by-side before the gathered Mandalorians at the Great Forge. The Armorer passed the flaming torched to Bo-Katan, who turned to the Forge. She solemnly dipped it into the furnace, and it lit with the flames of decades past. The Forge had flames once more, and it lit the way for Mandalore’s new era.

            The Mandalorians rhythmically pounded their gauntlets together. Some wore helmets, others not, (Y/N) had only their dagger and blaster to bang to the future of Mandalore, but they were all one people.

            “For Mandalore!” shouted Axe.

            “For Mandalore!” repeated the Mandalorians.

            “For Mandalore!” said Axe.

            “For Mandalore!”

            “For Mandalore!”

            “For Mandalore!”

l

            (Y/N), Mando, and Grogu didn’t flinch under the stares of the republic officers as they stepped through the doors of the base’s bar. After all they had faced, this was nothing. Not to mention, they were with family. They walked calmly towards the counter where Captain Teva sat speaking to a fellow officer.

            Teva noticed them and smiled. “Let me buy you a drink, Mando. I don’t think the kids are old enough, but I can get them something, too.” He was as friendly as ever.

            “Thanks, but we’re here on business,” said (Y/N).

            Beside them, Grogu Force-jumped up onto the counter to grab the snacks laid out for patrons.

            “We really appreciate what you did,” said Teva, referencing the pirate issue on Nevarro. “You made our jobs a lot easier.”

            “We’ve both been chasing Moff Gideon,” said Mando. “You would have gotten him eventually.”

            (Y/N) smiled proudly. “We just got there first.”

            Teva chuckled and glanced at Grogu as he gazed up at the droid heads mounted from battles above the bar. “The kid sure likes the trophies.”

            Grogu babbled and pointed up. He had seen an IG unit’s head.

            “It’s not him, kid,” said Mando. He looked back at Teva. “One of them reminds him of someone he knew.”

            “Mmm,” hummed Teva.

            “I have a business proposition,” continued Mando.

            “Shoot,” said Teva, taking a sip of his drink.

            “These younglings are my apprentices,” said Mando.

            “What does that have to do with me?” asked Teva, not unkindly.

            “I’m a bounty hunter by trade,” explained Mando. “Now that they are with me, I’ll be more selective in my assignments.”

            “Go on,” said Teva.

            “You don’t have the resources to protect the Outer Rim,” said (Y/N). “Let alone hunt down imperial remnants.”

            “And we need work,” said Mando.

            Teva blinked in surprise. “Let me get this straight. You want to work for the New Republic?”

            (Y/N) wrinkled their nose. “No.”

            “Only on a case-by-case basis,” said Mando. “Independent contractors.”

            “Hm.” Teva considered. “You know this is against regulation. It’ll never get approved.”

            “Which is why you won’t tell them,” said (Y/N) with a smirk.

            “Let me think about it,” said Teva.

            Mando leaned forward knowingly. “You already did.”

            Teva chuckled. He already wanted to say yes, and the Mandalorians knew it.

            “It’s a good deal and you know it,” said Mando, moving to Grogu’s side with (Y/N).

            “Is that so?” asked Teva.

            “All I require is a small advance,” said Mando. He looked up at the IG head.

            Perfect intact with an unbroken memory circuit, thought (Y/N) with a smile.

            “What I want in return is that,” said Mando.

            “A scrap assassin droid head?” asked Teva in confusion.

            “We need it for parts,” said (Y/N).

            Teva nodded. “Take it. We have no use for it. And I’ll consider the proposition.”

            “Send me a message when you need help with a job,” said Mando. He already knew Teva would say yes.

            (Y/N) smiled. They had their job, and Nevarro would get getting a new Marshal.

l

            “The people of Nevarro appreciate all you’ve done, Mando, (Y/N),” said Karga, back in his Magistrate robes. Nevarro was still in a state of disrepair, but the people were slowly rebuilding from the damage the pirates had dealt. Karga held out a small chip. “I want to give you this deed to a cabin just outside of town where you can lay low with your new family if you choose to. Between adventures.”

            “Thank you,” said Mando.

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N).

            Each shook Karga’s hand in turn.

Karga smiled in amusement as he shook (Y/N)’s head and nodded to Grogu. “Din (Y/N), Din Grogu.” He was exceptionally happy for Mando having his family really be one Clan.

            “And we have a gift for you as well,” said Mando. He nodded to the courtyard, and Karga turned.

            The Anzellans stood and gestured to their work.

            “Greetings, citizens,” said IG-11, repaired with the memory circuit and back to being a protector instead of a killer. “I am IG-11, your new Marshal. Your new Marshal of Nevarro.”

            Karga chuckled as he watched the droid walk, and the crowd applauded their new Marshal.

            “I am here to serve and protect the citizenry,” said IG-11.

            “There you go,” chuckled Karga as he approached. “Yes!” He clapped alongside his people.

            “I am at your disposal and serve at your pleasure,” said Ig-11.

            (Y/N) cocked their head as they watched. “Nevarro has someone to defend it again, now.”

            Mando nodded. “They do.” He glanced at Grogu and (Y/N). “Now, how about we head home?” He held the deed to the cabin tighter.

            (Y/N) smiled. They had many homes. Ushti, Mandalore, and now Nevarro.

            But when they sat down beside Mando on the porch of the cabin and watched Grogu play with the frogs in the pond, they knew that home wasn’t a place. For lack of a better comparison, it was a feeling.

            Their home was with their family.

            “Buir?” said (Y/N).

            Mando glanced over at them. “Yeah?”

            “Thank you for finding me,” said (Y/N).

            “Family always finds each other,” said Mando. “This is the Way.”

            (Y/N) smiled. “This is the Way.”

            No matter what came, they had their family. They had their Clan of Three.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

            “What are gifts traditional for apprentices?” asked Mando.

            The Armorer turned from the Forge to face him. “Why do you ask?”

            “It is the anniversary of when I found Grogu and (Y/N). I want to commemorate it,” said Mando simply.

            The Armorer nodded approvingly. “You have a strong bond with your Clan. That is good.” She placed her hammer down and fully focused on Mando. “So, you wish for gifts.”

            “Yes,” said Mando. “I’ve given Grogu chainmail to protect him, and (Y/N) has their remade Ushti dagger. I have not had a Clan of my own or apprentices before, so I don’t know what I should give them next.”

            The Armorer considered carefully. “Grogu is still quite young for more armor. Perhaps a game for him.”

            Mando nodded. “He would enjoy that.” He paused. “Grogu, uh, likes the silver topper of one of the levers from my old ship. It’s a simple sphere, but he’d like that.”

            The Armorer nodded. “Very well. And for (Y/N)?”

            “They have a blaster and dagger, and I don’t feel comfortable arming them more,” said Mando.

            “Their tendency to run into danger worries you,” said the Armorer in amusement.

            Mando sighed. “Yes.”

            “Then how about something to protect them?” suggested the Armorer. “A piece of armor would guard against some injuries.” She looked at the Mythosaur emblem on the wall. It reminded her that Mandalore the Great had chosen (Y/N) to guide. That was significant. “And it is time for them to start obtaining armor. They have more than earned their first piece.”

            Mando brightened but kept calm. “Yes. That would be good. I’d enjoy the honor of giving (Y/N) their first bit of Mandalorian armor.”

            The Armorer turned back to her tools. “What piece shall I craft?”

            “A gauntlet for their wrist or forearm,” said Mando. “To protect their dominant arm while they fight.”

            The Armorer nodded in approval. “This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” said Mando.

l

            “You’re supposed to throw it back to me, Grogu,” said (Y/N), hands on their hips as they looked at their brother.

            Grogu babbled happily, still levitating the stone in front of him. (Y/N) rolled their eyes, lifted a hand, and pulled the stone to them. Grogu squawked indignantly.

            “Relax, I’m going to toss it right back,” said (Y/N), flicking their ring and letting the rock float back to Grogu, who smiled widely upon getting to levitate it again. (Y/N) grinned but rolled their eyes. “I need practice, too.”

            “You’re supposed to be resting after our last mission,” said Mando, walking up behind them and crossing his arms.

            Grogu let the rock drop, and (Y/N) turned around without any embarrassment or guilt.

            They shrugged. “I feel fine.”

            “The last time you said that, you slept for an entire day when I finally got you to rest,” said Mando.

            “That was one time, Buir,” said (Y/N).

            “Ad’ika, we both know it was more than that,” said Mando.

            “Okay, fine, maybe it was,” said (Y/N). “Sorry.”

            “You’re not, but I’m going to accept your apology because I’m going to make you rest,” said Mando.

            “Whatever you say,” said (Y/N). They noticed the little parcels he was carrying. “What’re those?”

            Mando suddenly shifted, getting shyer. He still wasn’t used to being so soft, even if it was with his kids. And he wanted to do this right since it was an important moment.

            “They’re gifts. For you and Grogu,” said Mando. “It’s the day that I found you two first.”

            Grogu and (Y/N) were both silent.

            “Is this alright?” asked Mando.

            “You actually…You remember those things?” said (Y/N).

            “Of course. You’re the most important parts of my life,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) moved forward and hugged him tightly, and Grogu chirped and jumped up to hug him. Mando was surprised and balanced the presents before hugging them back.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N), and Grogu babbled in agreement.

            “You haven’t even seen what I got you,” said Mando.

            “Yeah, but you care about that. What you got us doesn’t matter,” said (Y/N).

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet. “Thank you, Ad’ika.”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t still want the gift, though.”

            “I know,” said Mando with a light laugh. He held up the presents. “This one is yours, and this one is Grogu’s.”

            Before Mando could even hand them over, the parcels levitated and flew to their recipients as the force moved for them. Grogu eagerly opened his first and babbled with a grin as he held up the silver ball.

            (Y/N) smiled. “He’ll be levitating and throwing that around the whole ship.”

            Mando sighed. “I know, but it makes him happy.”

            (Y/N) opened theirs then, and their eyes widened as they lifted up the beskar gauntlet. “Is this Mandalorian armor?”

            “You’re a Mandalorian,” said Mando simply. “And you’ve risked your life for us so many times that you have earned it, Ad’ika.”

            (Y/N) grinned, closed the gauntlet around their forearm, and hugged Mando again. “Thank you so much, Buir.” They were a Mandalorian. More than that though, they were Mando’s child. And that’s what meant the most.

            “Of course, Ad’ika,” said Mando, holding them close. He had his kids. That was all he needed.

Chapter Text

            “What’s going on there?” asked (Y/N) as they, Mando, and Bo-Katan walked through the streets of a planet that they were meeting with for trade deals with Mandalore.

            “It looks to be some kind of festival,” said Bo-Katan, glancing off to the side.

            (Y/N) watched curiously as the festival continued. There were people dancing to music and holding up banners of every color possible. One sign read “Pride in who I am,” and something in (Y/N)’s heart ached at the word.

            They knew they were different than others—alone in a universe full of cultures. Ushti had been destroyed, ravaged by the Empire. (Y/N) had no family or home left there. And now at Mandalore, they were forced to recognize (often) that they had not been born Mandalorian and so didn’t understand or connect to the other children as much as they wanted to. (Y/N) tried, and, since they had their Buir and had been literally chosen by Mandalore the Great for…something. So, yes, they belonged.

            But they were also force-sensitive, had nearly become a jedi, and that would have made them an enemy of Mandalorians. Of course, they also had less of a gendered identity as others, and that sometimes made them feel different. So, between all the cultures, abilities, and identities they held, sometimes (Y/N) felt very separate from people—as if they did belong in any one place.

            It had worked out, and (Y/N) had a great family and bonds, but sometimes…sometimes they wondered if who they were was too fractured. They were just a teenager, after all. Their sense of self wasn’t complete, and they were still learning to be comfortable in their own skin.

            “Huh…” said (Y/N), forcing themself to look away and focus on the walk towards the council chambers. They and Mando would be backing up Bo-Katan in preliminary discussions. So, (Y/N) had no time to doubt themself. They needed to focus.

            “Are you alright, Verd’ika?” asked Mando. Grogu babbled in his arms.

            “I’m fine,” said (Y/N), nodding. “Just tired of treaty-making already.”

            “We haven’t even started,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Exactly,” said (Y/N).

            Bo-Katan chuckled in amusement, and Mando shook his head fondly. Both adults knew that, despite (Y/N)’s aptitude (and desire) for fights, they were surprisingly skilled at speaking with people, too. Not a lot of the time, but when Bo-Katan had them around in council meetings or discussions for treaties, (Y/N) would run their mouth and go through anger, annoyance, and then helpfulness (accidentally).

            After everything with the Darksaber and (Y/N)’s visions of Mandalore the Great, Bo-Katan and Mando had come to the conclusion that (Y/N) was suited to helping others. The world seemed to want them to, and (Y/N) was good at it.

            Neither would push (Y/N) into leading or trying to make them take on more responsibility, but they both knew it. Mando in particular had seen that (Y/N) had strength and the force (literally, the Force) to fight for what they cared about, and he, although lacking force-sensitivity, felt something lay within them that would make them an impressive Mandalorian—even more than they already were.

            But, again, Mando would never push them towards anything. That was his kid. He wasn’t going to push (Y/N) into anything they weren’t capable of, and they had already been through so much, so Mando would be damned before someone hurt what little childhood and safety he could offer his ad’ika.

            And if they seemed interested in a festival in the middle of debates for treaties? Mando would make sure they had a moment to have fun instead of being stuck in politics.

            Mando would make sure (Y/N) had the joyful moments they deserved.

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            “So, we’re in accordance?” said Bo-Katan, smiling pleasantly as she leaned back in her chair. Across the table, the council members of the planet nodded.

            “Yes, the terms of trade are favorable. We are pleased to have Mandalore back, and, these terms will be upheld should you start producing materials for trade once more,” said a council member.

            “Good,” said Bo-Katan, rising. She shook the council members’ hands.

            Mando didn’t move from where he stood as a guard in shining beskar. It would be more intimidating if not for the little green child riding on his shoulder. However, he was helped by the teenager by his side, harsh marking around their eyes as they glowered at everyone who had tried to get more out of the trading agreement then was fair ((Y/N) always caught those types of people, and it was yet another reason Bo-Katan and Mando were proud of them).

            “If you have any time, you should stay for the festival,” said one council member, one of the ones that had actually been helpful. “It is quite nice, and after business, it is a nice break.”

            “What is it about?” asked Mando.

            “It is a Pride festival to celebrate our people’s struggles centuries ago against bigotry due to sexuality or gender,” explained the councilor, smiling. “It is to celebrate being ourselves.”

            “We’ll consider it,” said Bo-Katan. “Thank you for meeting with us.” She walked out of the room with Mando, Grogu, and (Y/N).

            “Verd’ika do you want to go?” asked Mando as they walked.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “I don’t care.”

            “We’re going,” said Mando firmly. He knew (Y/N) had been interested, so he was taking them to it.

            “I didn’t know you were queer,” said Bo-Katan.

            “I don’t label myself,” said Mando as they turned through the streets towards the swell of music.

            Bo-Katan nodded in understanding. “I’m bisexual.” She glanced at (Y/N). “What about you, kid?”

            “I don’t label my sexuality,” said (Y/N). “I don’t really know what it is. But I’m nonbinary.”

            “Then we all have something to celebrate,” said Bo-Katan. She spotted a stand with some food. “Have fun. We’ll meet back at the ship in an hour.” She walked to get herself some food, and Mando and (Y/N) were left alone.

            (Y/N) watched the people dancing and marching down the street, and Mando looked at them.

            “You should join them. You should be proud of yourself,” said Mando.

            “I’m not insecure about my gender identity,” said (Y/N), shaking their head. “I’ve never had an issue with that.”

            “You should be proud of your entire identity,” said Mando. “You’ve been very strong over the years. You should remember that. You fought to be here today.”

            (Y/N)’s heart clenched, and they shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, but I don’t really belong here. I didn’t fight for their rights. Besides, I’m not from this planet. I’m Ushti. And Mandalorian. And…I’m a lot.”

            “You don’t have to be one thing,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “Yeah, but I’m a lot.”

            “That’s fine,” said Mando. “You’re a good kid. You’re my kid. And I’m proud of who you are. All of who you are.”

            (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. “Even if I’m Ushti and force-sensitive and Mandalorian and trouble?”

            “I wouldn’t want you to change who you are,” said Mando. “You wouldn’t be my verd’ika if you weren’t.”

            (Y/N) smiled widely. “Thanks, Buir.” They stepped towards the crowd of celebrators.

            Mando watched them go. They had grown so much, and they still had so much longer to go. One day, they were going to be someone incredible. Actually, (Y/N) already was. But Mando was glad they weren’t grown up yet. They deserved to just exist and be happy with who they were in the present, first. The future would come, but it wasn’t there today.

            Today, (Y/N) was (Y/N). And that was enough.

Chapter Text

            “We have to dress up for them?” Mando’s face was disguised by his helmet as usual, but his dubious tone was unmistakable.

            Bo-Katan sighed. “You’ve put on costumes for jobs before, how is this any different?”

            “This is for politics. I hate politics,” said Mando.

            “You and I are the faces of the new Mandalorian unity—”

            “The Armorer is,” interrupted Mando.

            “—she doesn’t come with us, so we are the faces of a united Mandalorian front,” continued Bo-Katan. “And as such, we have to show we are both involved in Mandalore’s growth.”

            Mando looked at the costume armor to his side. “But I have to wear that?”

            “They are having a celebration of their old mythical tales. They are being kind and including us,” said Bo-Katan. “Yes. You are wearing that.”

            Mando sighed. “I’m keeping the helmet.”

            “Of course,” said Bo-Katan. She patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, this’ll be fun. Even Grogu and (Y/N) are getting costumes.”

            “(Y/N) will love that,” said Mando sarcastically.

            “You didn’t see what costumes they got,” said Bo-Katan, grinning.

            Mando sighed.

l

            Mando emerged from the government building in his festival garb—his armor now fake but painted with a bright symbol of a sun on the front. A fake sword hung next to his phasers on his belt, and he had an amber cape falling from his shoulders. He was a hero from the mythology of the planet.

            “See? Not so bad. You just look like you’re from the Middle Ages,” said Bo-Katan, emerging. She was dressed in armor, as well, but she also had a crown—a queen from old stories.

            “As long as I have my phaser to protect my adike, I’ll accept it,” said Mando. The safety of his children one was thing he would not trade for anything.

            “Grogu and I are fine,” said (Y/N), coming out.

            Grogu waddled beside them in a funny little robe and hat—a wizard. (Mando thought that was an apt choice).

            (Y/N) had on dress pants and a tunic, both stitched with designs of red, orange, and yellow across it. A vest finished the outfit, black with outlines of flames. A crown sat on top of their head, and the only thing that was out of place was their phaser at their side. They were undoubtedly some mythological god or magical being.

            (Again, Mando approved. (Y/N) had a strange pull on people, a natural leadership, so them being such an important person in mythology made sense. Also, it reminded him of the way they were chosen by Mandalore the Great. Quite frankly, Mando was still surprised and unsure what that meant for them, but it fit them so well).

            “You look good,” said Bo-Katan, smiling. “I’m sure your dad is disappointed you’re not a knight in shining armor so he can imagine you with all your Mandalorian armor, but you look good.”

            (Y/N) grinned and rolled their eyes. “I have my gauntlet.” They gestured to the painted armor around their wrist. “I have to earn the rest.”

            “If saving Mandalore doesn’t earn that, I don’t know what does,” remarked Bo-Katan.

            “If they do not feel ready, I will not push them,” said Mando. How someone saw themself and their capabilities was important. If (Y/N) did not feel ready to take on more armor, then he would not push them. It would only hurt them. He looked at (Y/N). “Verd’ika, you fit this mythology.”

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Grogu babbled, and Mando picked him up with a nod. “You look good, too.” Grogu smiled widely.

            “Selfish. I already complimented you,” said (Y/N), and Grogu just turned his grin on them.

            “Alright, let’s go and enjoy the festival,” said Bo-Katan, facing the music and parade going by. Bright lights were strung across walkways, and delicious smells wafted from every street corner stall.

            “Are you hungry?” said Mando, looking at (Y/N) and Grogu.

            “A bit,” said (Y/N). Grogu babbled (he was always hungry).

            “I’ll get us food,” said Mando.

            “Go and enjoy yourself,” said Bo-Katan, nodding to (Y/N). “There are other teenagers around.” She smiled. “Maybe you can make some friends.”

            “I have friends,” said (Y/N).

            “Mando and Grogu are your family, I’m your boss—”

            “I don’t do anything I don’t want to,” said (Y/N) instantly.

            “—and your constant rivalry with Miyan Nyk, one of the Armorer’s proteges, really doesn’t count,” finished Bo-Katan.

            “No, it doesn’t, he’s just embarrassed he keeps losing to me,” said (Y/N), pleased with themself.

            “Just go and get your face painted, buy some stupid trinkets, get some candy, have fun,” said Bo-Katan, dropping some credits into the hand and pushing them forward.

            “Whatever, Buir,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes and walking off.

            “Did I just get called ‘mom?’ ” said Bo-Katan, blinking.

            “No,” said Mando.

            “Don’t get jealous, you know you’ll always be their favorite,” said Bo-Katan.

            Mando didn’t reply, but his visor was firmly on (Y/N) even as he walked towards the food stall Grogu was waddling towards. He watched with narrowed eyes below his helmet as (Y/N) got some food and was approached by some other teenagers. Obviously, they were all comparing costumes and beginning to chat.

            “Relax, Din,” said Bo-Katan, seeing where his attention lay. “They’re just talking to someone.”

            “I don’t want them getting into trouble,” said Mando.

            “They always do,” said Bo-Katan. “But come on, that’s just normal teenager stuff. They’re talking to people their age—”

            “I think one of them is flirting with my ad’ika.” Mando’s hand trailed to his phaser.

            “(Y/N) is growing up. That’s going to happen at some point,” said Bo-Katan. She watched (Y/N). “I don’t think they’re interested yet, but you have to know that they’re going to at some point.” She shrugged. “Unless they’re aro.”

            “I don’t want them to get hurt,” said Mando.

            “Trust me, if someone hurt their feelings, I’m sure (Y/N) could handle them,” said Bo-Katan. “And if they need backup, they have you, me, and a whole planet willing to help them.”

            Mando watched (Y/N) grab some food and hesitate before sitting down with the other teenagers, chatting and smiling. They were growing up. They had already overcome so much. He could only hope he got to watch them continue to grow stronger and become the incredible Mandalorian—and, more importantly, the incredible person—he knew they’d become.

Chapter Text

            “The last time we were on a cold planet, we were chased by spiders,” said (Y/N) as they walked with Mando. Grogu was safely in Mando’s hands and burrowing into his robes due to the chill.

            “We haven’t crashed, and we’re just refueling,” said Mando. “This is passing the time.”

            “Mm,” said (Y/N), looking around. “What are they doing?”

            Mando scanned the crowd. Fortunately, none of them seemed aggressive or violent. Everything appeared to be safe, so Mando let them keep walking. His adike meant the world to him. Their safety was of the utmost priority.

            However, (Y/N)’s eyes shone curiously around at the festival. People were putting up lights, sweet smells filtered from mugs and baked goods, and little trinkets were getting wrapped up in paper and bows.

            “I think they’re getting gifts,” said Mando. “Some planets have gift-giving festivals.”

            “Cool,” said (Y/N). “I like all the decorations.”

            “It’s bright,” said Mando.

            “People like light,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “Especially when it’s cold.”

            Mando glanced at them, reminded that his ad’ika was unusually well-spoken at times.

            “What’s the weird stuff on the tree?” said (Y/N). “Do they think it’ll grow metal?”

            “At times” was the key phrase. “It’s more decorations,” said Mando.

            “Aha,” said (Y/N). They leaned closer. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to think a tiny starship would grow a bigger one if it was attached to a tree.”

            “You have powers to heal people and move things with your mind,” said Mando.

            “Yeah. Those makes sense,” said (Y/N). “I use energy around me.”

            “Verd’ika, that makes very little sense to most people,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Should we get something to eat or do something with the festival?”

            “Food,” said Mando, knowing that keeping (Y/N) from wandering off and inevitably finding trouble was the best option.

            He was proud of their strong sense of justice, but their supernatural senses always led them to people in trouble, so they got involved in the trouble, and that meant a fight. Mando was too protective to just let it happen.

            “Okay,” said (Y/N), walking into a café. It wasn’t often they got to sit somewhere warm and not filled with seedy individuals—at least, when they weren’t on Mandalore—so they were going to embrace it.

            Sure enough, the entire place smelled sweet, and when they sat down, their waitress appeared with a cheerful smile. Mando just asked for whatever people at the festival wanted, and she was happy to oblige, bringing a pot of brown liquid and a plate of biscuits.

            Grogu was happy to bite into a biscuit—or, as the woman called them, “cookies.” They had white, red, and white designs drawn on them, and (Y/N) gazed at them before biting in.

            “These are good,” they said. “Sweet. I haven’t had ‘sweet’ in a while.”

            Mando nodded. He was glad he could give them something nice occasionally. He knew (Y/N) was happy and thriving as they grew stronger and stronger with the Mandalorians, but he also wanted them to have times where they could be soft. He wanted them safe.

            Grogu babbled and motioned for a cup. Mando smiled beneath his helmet and poured a glass of the liquid for Grogu. Happily, Grogu picked it up and drank. He smiled, pleased with the taste.

            Curious, (Y/N) poured a mug for themself. They took a sip. It was hot, and it warmed their stomach. “I like this planet. I like their festival. They make great food and drinks.”

            “We’ll come back sometime,” said Mando. With Mandalore growing again and his deal with the New Republic, he had more freedom. He had more time to take care of his kids and give them the life they deserved before they were grown up and independent.

            “Nice,” said (Y/N). They took another bite of their cookie. “So, what is our next assignment? New Republic or Mandalore?”

            “Mandalore,” said Mando. “Some of our new allies are having some issues with pirates, so we’ll be helping them prevent further problems.”

            “Oh, pirates,” said (Y/N). “So…they won’t go quietly?”

            “This is not an excuse to fight,” said Mando.

            “I need to put my training to practical test, right?” said (Y/N).

            “You shouldn’t go looking for fights,” chided Mando.

            “I’m not,” said (Y/N). “But pirates robbing innocent people means they’re looking for a fight. I don’t put up with that.”

            There was the sense of justice. That was why the Force had gifted them with such power and Mandalore the Great had chosen to speak to them. (Y/N) could be stereotyped as a troubled teen looking for a fight, but they were also someone who wanted to put things right in the world when they were wrong.

            “I know,” said Mando. He was so proud of his Verd’ika.

Chapter Text

            Mando hovered by the side of the training grounds on Mandalore. Bo-Katan stood next to them, and the Armorer was giving instructions to some of the apprentices training. Mando watched as (Y/N) sparred with Miyan Nyk—the Mandalorian teenage boy they had sparred with during their first test proving themself to the Armorer. The pair had quickly become friends, despite Miyan originally making fun of (Y/N) for lacking armor, but their relationship was more rivals than anything, and they were eager to practice fighting one another but fiercely competitive at the same time.

            More than once, Mando and Bo-Katan wondered if the pair were going too hard on one another. The Armorer was satisfied that they were pushing each other. Better for (Y/N) and Miyan to get some bruises and cuts now rather than in battle—which (Y/N) had also done, but there was no reason to get more.

            Mando’s shoulders squared proudly as (Y/N) twisted Miyan over, through him over their shoulder, and pinned him down. They had won.

            “(Y/N)’s getting stronger every day,” said Bo-Katan. “They didn’t even have to use the Force.”

            “No,” said Mando. His ad’ika was extremely talented, and, despite being young, they were one of the strongest people he had ever met. They had gone through so much, and yet they hadn’t crumbled to the darkness. They stood tall and defied everyone’s expectations. He was proud of them in a way only a parent could be. “And they’ll be happy to put another point on their side of the scoreboard.”

            Bo-Katan snorted. “They and Miyan are keeping score of their wins? I guess even Mandalorian teenagers are teenagers.”

            “(Y/N)’s winning,” said Mando proudly.

            “I wonder how Miyan feels about that,” joked Bo-Katan.

            The adults watched (Y/N) offer a hand to Miyan and pull him to his feet. The pair chatted for a moment, and (Y/N) rolled their eyes, but they had a smile on their face. Miyan’s helmeted head betrayed no emotion, but it tilted towards (Y/N) as he spoke.

            “Aha.” Bo-Katan smirked. “You know, I don’t think he really minds.”

            Mando looked at Bo-Katan. “What?”

            “Seriously?” said Bo-Katan incredulously. “Have you ever had interest in someone? Or had them interested in you?”

            Mando shrugged. It happened occasionally, but Mando had other focuses in life. A love life or a relationship wasn’t a priority. His kids were his world right now, and that wouldn’t be changing any time soon.

            Bo-Katan laughed and shook her head. “Okay, well, what would get you to keep going back to fight someone who kicked your ass more times than not?”

            “Competition,” said Mando. He’d want to prove himself, of course, and finally overcome his weaknesses by defeating his opponent.

            Bo-Katan stared at him incredulously. “Mando, what’s the last discussion we had?”

            Mando furrowed his brow. “Discussion?” He thought back. His helmet tilted threateningly as he remembered the talk Bo-Katan had given him about not shooting a teenager just for flirting with (Y/N). “He’s interested in them?” He was now glaring at Miyan as the boy leaned to speak to (Y/N).

            “Yeah, helmet-head,” said Bo-Katan. “And remember? No freaking out. It’s a normal part of life for a lot of people.”

            Mando still didn’t like it. Well, he wanted (Y/N) to be happy and get into a healthy relationship if that’s what they wanted, but this whole teenage phase—the normal teenage stuff, not the running around and fighting and speaking to Mandalore the Great—had snuck up on him.

            “Do you think they like him back?” asked Mando.

            “No idea,” said Bo-Katan. They watched (Y/N) gesture at Miyan and clearly make fun of him for losing. “They’re like that with everyone. But you’re their buir. You could have a talk with them about making sure they know what they want and have boundaries and all that. If someone’s considering a relationship, it’s important.” She grinned. “And at least if Miyan likes them, he knows they can kick his ass and they have you and me as backup if he bothers them.”

            Mando nodded. Miyan wasn’t a bad kid, no. He was stronger than other apprentices in the clan, but, still, Mando was protective. He had good reason to be: (Y/N) had a penchant for finding danger and trouble. Hopefully a boy wouldn’t be some of that.

            (Y/N) started walking over to Mando, and Bo-Katan nudged his shoulder encouragingly before walking away to give them father-child time.

            “I beat him again,” said (Y/N), grinning. “Did you see it?”

            “Good job, Verd’ika,” said Mando. “You’re getting better.”

            (Y/N) stood taller at the praise, like they always did when their buir acknowledged their strength. “Miyan didn’t know what hit him,” said (Y/N).

            Mando hesitated and watched Miyan put his weapons back on his armor—it had been open-handed combat. “You and Miyan are friends now, aren’t you?”

            “Kinda,” said (Y/N). “I mean, he was the worst when I first met him, but kick someone’s ass in front of everyone and they become a little humbler.” They grinned. “And he’s actually strong, so it’s fun to fight him. I guess that makes us something like friends.”

            “…Nothing more?” said Mando. He had never had to broach such a topic, so it was extremely awkward.

            (Y/N) stared at him. “Um, no. At least, not right now. Not that I’m—I mean, he’s my sparring partner. That’s it. I just—” they fumbled and trailed off. “We’re just friends. I haven’t really thought about anything else.”

            “But it is something you want in the future?” asked Mando.

            “With someone, yeah,” said (Y/N). “I haven’t paid that close attention to anyone yet, you know? Boys, girls, anyone. I’ve been a little busy.”

            Mando understood. He had been the same, and he was still pretty focused on other things.
“Okay.” He looked at them. “And for the record, I don’t care what the person is like as long as they’re a good person.” Boy, girl, anything in between didn’t matter as long as they treated (Y/N) like they deserved to be treated.

            “I know,” said (Y/N). “And I’m pretty sure I have good taste. I chose a pretty good family, you know.”

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet, and (Y/N) knew his body language enough to know he was smiling. (Y/N) leaned against his armored shoulder, and Mando looked at them. His ad’ika was growing up. They might not be paying that much attention to romance yet, but it could sneak up on them. He had a feeling it might be. (Y/N) was growing up so fast. Mando partially wished they would slow down. He loved seeing them grow stronger, more confident, but one day, they’d be independent. They wouldn’t need him. He’d have to treasure what he had until then.

Chapter Text

            “I’m not worried.”

            “You’re worried.”

            “I’m not. (Y/N) is capable,” reiterated Mando, crossing his arms.

            “We know,” said the Armorer, standing beside him as they looked at the cameras of the caves they had taken for training purposes. “But you are a buir. You worry. It is understandable. We must keep a watch over the next generation. It is the Way.”

            “And it probably doesn’t help that (Y/N) is always looking for a fight,” said Bo-Katan.

            “They do not,” said Mando. He paused. “Anymore.” Grogu babbled in agreement. (Y/N) had gotten a little more diplomatic the older they got (probably Mandalore the Great’s influence more than anything), even if they enjoyed a good fight.

            “But you still worry, and that’s fine,” said Bo-Katan. “It’s nice to see you being a father.”

            Mando didn’t respond, but he held Grogu tighter as they looked back at the screens. “They’ll pass the test.” He knew them too well to doubt it. He also knew they would put their own health at risk if anyone got into real trouble.

            “We will see,” said the Armorer, but she had very few doubts. (Y/N) was chosen by powers outside of their own. They were capable. A simple training exercise wasn’t going to stop them.

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            “What is the point of this?” said (Y/N), grumbling as they wove under rocks with Miyan Nyk—the Mandalorian apprentice they’d kicked the ass of a year and some months ago. “I’ve been in caves. I’ve nearly died in caves. Why do I have to train in caves?”

            “Because it is the Way,” said Miyan.

            (Y/N) gave him a look that he seemingly did not react to (he wore a helmet, after all). “Well, it’s stupid. I’ve already done this training.”

            “Then we should make it through this course quickly,” said Miyan.

            There’s the hard part. Teamwork with that guy. (Y/N) wasn’t too sure about him. Well, they thought he wasn’t a bad guy, but he was as competitive as them, sometimes full of it, and (Y/N) was going to rattle his helmet if he kept talking so formally. They were both teenagers, for Force’s sake.

            “Yeah, yeah,” said (Y/N). “Come on.”

            “We need to check the other routes,” said Miyan. “We shouldn’t take the wrong one.”

            (Y/N) paused at a crossroads, closed their eyes, and took a deep breath. “This way.” They turned to the right.

            “How do you know?” said Miyan.

            “I can feel it,” said (Y/N). “The air.” They frowned. “It’s hard to explain.”

            Miyan began doubtfully. “I don’t know—”

            Something lunged, and (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, pulling him back as the creature pounced. “Move!” It was one of the prowling creatures of Mandalore’s surface.

            Miyan pivoted, grabbed his blaster, and aimed. (Y/N) grabbed their dagger on instinct. The pair exchanged a look, (Y/N) nodded, and Miyan moved. Without a single word, they attacked together, perfectly synchronized. Miyan moved to the right, firing as he did. The creature turned him aggressively, and (Y/N) jumped. They launched off the wall, flipped over the creature, and stabbed downwards. The creature roared, jerked up, and exposed its underbelly. Miyan fired, and he completed the injury (Y/N) had dealt the creature. It fell, and (Y/N) rolled from its back.

            (Y/N) looked at it. They huffed. “That wasn’t part of the training exercise.”

            “No, it was not,” agreed Miyan. “But we handled it.”

            (Y/N) suspected there was a smile under the helmet. “We did.” They paused. “There’re probably more in the tunnels.”     

            “Which means the other apprentices might find them,” said Miyan.

            “And they might not be prepared,” said (Y/N).

            (Y/N) and Miyan looked at each other.

            “We should—”

            “Yep—”

            Way too excited, they ran off down the wrong tunnel to find more creatures.

l

            “Well. That was a bit unexpected,” admitted the Armorer.

            “They handled that well.” Bo-Katan patted Mando on the back. “See? They’re fine.” Even if they’re going to go and fight more creatures…At least they’re helping other apprentices.

            Mando glowered. “He doesn’t need to follow them around.”

            Bo-Katan chuckled. “They’re a team on this, remember?”

            Mando grumbled under his breath.

            “Oh. Oh. Oh, come on, Mando, they’re teens,” said Bo-Katan. “And they argue more than they work together.”

            “Yeah. That’s the problem.” Mando knew (Y/N) argued with the people they liked. He sighed. They were growing up. It was terrifying.