Chapter Text
A familiar T-visored figure appears way too close to the lens as the sound of a holo recorder warms up and begins recording with a soft beep.
Din Djarin is seen making final adjustments to the camera angle. The empty sounds of the Nevarro valley surrounding the Mudhorn Clan homestead are captured by a proud Mandalorian Ward, as he quickly presses a function into his gauntlet. A beautiful sleek silver starship can be seen unlocking with a hiss, opening up, sliding forward with an electric hum. A familiar excited little green figure can be seen taking a few forceful leaps, making his way into the star fighter’s cockpit. There are a few beats of silence before Grogu can be heard in the distance calling out to his father.
“Mandooo.”
Din Djarin can be heard whispering.
“He seems to have forgotten which of the buttons is the ignition.”
Din Djarin can’t help but chuckle watching his little boy. Every day he wakes up so thankful that the kind wizard Luke had been able to help Grogu. Din Djarin has noticed a great improvement in Grogu’s abilities as he’s started to remember his formal training, and heal from it. Din now understands how similar he and Grogu are and how much potential the young lad possesses.
“Heh! Alright kid. If you’ve primed it, three times; press the big green button, on the right hand side. No other…”
Suddenly the calm stillness of the valley is overcome by the twin engines of Mando’s chopped up N-1 Starfighter cranking to life on a particularly cold winter afternoon. The roar of the heavily modified machine cold starting echoes through the valley, and birds can be seen fleeing the area with great haste. Din Djarin’s cape flutters in the gusty winds of the craft.
Grogu can be heard giving an excited
“Yahooo!”
The Mando can faintly be heard saying
“Good job, kid! Now give me a sec!”
The Mandalorian is seen quickly turning, clicking another function, and the recording cuts and begins again.
The gentle beep is heard, with the sound of the disk beginning to spin. This time Din Djarin and Grogu are seen inside the cockpit of the N1. Grogu’s copilot tube once again replaces the astromech series droid socket. Din Grogu can be seen having the time of his life in the background. Mando looks back at his boy, then faces the recorder, hands firmly but gently adjusting on the stick…
“Uhh, hello journal. It’s been a few days, but I thought it time for another log. I mean, entry.”
Din Djarin and Grogu rip through the Nevarro skyline. The Mando twists a few nobs, and flicks a switch; turning up the warmth on the life support systems, it’s worth the extra fuel so long as Grogu wasn’t cold. He then gently pulls back both of the sticks, ascending the duo. A gentle tapping is heard, as Grogu especially enjoys flying when The Mando practice flight maneuvers. Din jerks the sticks left and they begin spinning. Grogu’s arms raise as they steadily gain altitude. Leveling off as they reach the cloud line.
”Hehe. Glad you’re having fun buddy… well, how do you start these again..? I had felt so much better after the first time, that I thought I’d try again...”
The Mando nervously adjusts some power levels; the sound of clicking switches and relays is heard, as the Mando adjusts in his seat. The engines mellow out for a quiet and smooth ride. He reaches out to a familiar switch, the special modifications from Peli; but he decides not to engage it this time. The ship streaks across the blue sky, reflecting back rays of the setting sunshine. Sure, the N1 is no Razor Crest, but the Mando does enjoy the beauty of the glistening silver and yellow. If you asked Din Djarin, he would admit that the N1 has grown on him, but don’t expect him to admit that on Tatooine. He makes a few more adjustments, and sits back, he just wanted to cruise for a bit amongst the clouds and the blue sky.
“…Alright, where do I even start with this one… I guess we should just go for it.”
The Mando can be seen adjusting again in his seat. Exhaling a long shaky breath before finding the words.
“I-I wanted to talk more about my Aliit and the hard lessons I wish I was forced into learning from them.”
Grogu can be heard humming something, a little song. “OowoooOwooO.”
Din Djarin looks behind him, noticing Grogu watch as the landscape changes from grassy valleys to slow flowing lava rivers. The Mando continues, looking back to the recorder.
“I wanted to talk more. About my Uncle Chio, and finally let him go… “
Mando's hand shifts the flight sticks left, as he shifts towards the capital city. Din Djarin loves gently reminding the town folk that they are safe, and watched over. He thought it would help put their minds at ease. Pirate attacks are definitely not something one could forget so easily.
”Luke had said something so profound... What was it? Something about trying to... find the balance between grace and f-forgiveness...“
He lets out a softer sigh. Lost in thought, thinking about his trip to Tatooine with his new companion Luke. He’s brought back to reality, interrupted by an excited Grogu, tapping on the glass, calling out
“Mandooo, Mandooo.”
Din Djarin lovingly chuckles, pulling the N1’s sticks straight back, the haul of the magnificent ship creaks but holds strong, as the duo pull up into a J Turn. Mando flicks up the safety over the Peli button. Grogu’s hands are held up high above his head, as they are launched straight ahead, both enjoying the moment. Grogu laughs with his father, and after a few more spins, the Mando straightens out the pitch. Din Djarin of the clan of two, breathing heavy.
”Aha, good job kid, you just did 7Gs.”
Grogu coos and giggles, tapping his tiny green fist on his chest, smiling, ears waving from side to side in excitement.
“Mandoo!”
The little one yawns, enjoying the newfound stillness of the N1, as it gently glides back towards the rivers of lava. The sun is setting slowly, reflecting gentle orange rays. Grogu can be seen blinking his eyes and yawning.
“Hehe, most impressive, and without napping today.”
Din Djarin pulls his seat all the way back, accounting for the sense that Grogu’s nap time was soon approaching. He lets out a comfortable sigh.
“One day you’ll be flying this thing and I’ll be the one fooling around.”
Din Djarin can’t help but chuckle. It was important to show Grogu that despite the armor, and the helmet; he’s still alive underneath.
”Ok, It all started when I was young. A few of the covert had gathered together to throw me a small celebration as I spoke the creed. They had gifted me a small pouch of credits, at least enough so I could start saving up for a new weapon of my choice… We didn’t have much, as I only realize now, the Armorer had isolated all of us from the rest of the galaxy.”
Grogu disappears and reappears inside of the cockpit, taking a seat on Din Djarins knee. Gently holding onto the right flight stick, holding Din Djarin’s gloved hand.
“Soon after the celebration my Uncle Chio asked me privately if he could borrow some of the money from me. He said he just needed two hundred credits to get some sort of venture going. How could I resist providing real credits for the Covert…”
The Mando’s fist grasps the sticks tighter, but loosen as Grogu pats his wrist.
“Little did I know. He was just going to gamble the credits on me later that week… We’ve already talked about the underworld fights I…”
Din Djarin releases a heavy sigh, acknowledging the past but not letting it overcome him. He has been sleeping better since, and it has gotten a lot easier to relax the past few days. His sigh ends as he looks up to the sky looking for the words in the clouds.
“I did try and get my credits back… But I had no proof… How could I? I didn’t even tell my Ward Din Rawn, let alone The Armorer. The Underworld had engulfed me, I felt so alone. I feel like a fool now that I reflect on this… I should have never loaned those credits to Chio.”
The Mando’s fist grasps tighter again.
“He had said I was one win away from being the champion. I couldn’t explain where the credits were going, nor where I had been sneaking off to.”
Grogu closes his eyes and starts a nap, laying his little head on Din’s un-armored knee. The Mando takes another deep shaky breath, doing his best to not let the emotions overwhelm him. But they are too much. He switches on autopilot and removes his helmet. The memories of being screwed over by his Aliit. His family, his own Tal, his Uncle.
“This is why I never stopped fighting to be the strongest of us, in the covert. Why, I trained so hard, to be one of the few who got to leave on a regular basis. Why, I preferred to isolate myself. It was I who sought to make my own decisions, earn my own credits… Survive.”
The soft shallow breaths of Grogu napping is heard in the background and Din Djarin wipes away tears. Then taking back the controls, flying them towards the sun as it sets over the rolling hills, freshly plowed grain is being gathered by droids, just nearly visible in the distance.
“Heck, I can’t believe I let him lie to my dad and The Armorer.”
He breathes steadily this time. The N1 flies above the valleys of their humble home, the pond glistening with the last warmth of the setting sun. The sounds of the engines echo into the evening as he starts to fly lower. The blades of the grasslands separating behind them with the force of the humming machine.
Grogu slowly awakens from his quick Loth cat nap, sensing they were almost home. Din Djarin smiles, wiping away the last bit of tears and placing his helmet on the pilot seat, lifting Grogu, placing him atop of the helmet so he could see over the flight sticks. Din Djarin pats the kid on the head.
“Alright Grogu, are you ready to land this time?”
Excited bleeps of joy and happy exclamations of love are said ended with a familiar
“OOOowoooOOOowooOo”.
As Grogu and Din Djarin gently glide to a stop at the entrance of their homestead.
“Good job, buddy.”
Din Djarin says deactivating the ships systems and finishing the powering down process. The ship's hull opens up and the cold evening air is blown in by a gentle breeze.
“I’m going to need you to be a big boy right now, and go get cleaned up for dinner. I’ll catch up to you in a sec. Okay?”
Din Djarin says as they both make their way out of the elegant Starfighter. Grogu can be seen smiling and hopping away. With a courageous
“OowoooOo”.
Din is seen reaching inside of the ship grabbing the camera and pointing it back toward him for another moment.
““I’m not even sure I’ll completely understand whatever grace is if, if I’ll ever understand whatever Ahsoka and Luke were saying about how it’s about how we would want to be treated if the situation were reversed. Chk. Who even knows if they know what the kriff they’re talking about… Mandalore’d damn me, taking these life lessons from a former enemy.”
He takes a moment to place the camera on the wing of the N1, the homestead now visible, cascaded by the glittering of stars of the night.
“Luke said grace is a lot like hope, in that you don’t really know it’s there. But, it’s a feeling. He said you feel it when you let go of the burdens that someone else inflicted upon you, and hoping that they see through the blindness of their ways.”
The Mandalorian takes a moment to gaze at the stars, turning away from the recorder to appreciate them.
“There is so much bantha poodoo I’d justified as The Way growing up; that I’m only now realizing how negatively I was manipulated… Dank farik, Gideon is proof that there will be hell or high water to pay if you mess with Din Grogu.”
He sighs again… it was no use getting so worked up this late at night. He takes a moment to stretch his shoulders and unwind.
“Its always darkest before the dawn… these foolish wizards.”
Din Djarin looks up, and takes off his helmet. Taking in the beauty of the Nevarro night skies elegant tapestries, he’s happy to have been able to form deep relationships with his new companions, and that he was successful in protecting his new home. He could thank Greef every day, if he weren’t so busy establishing new trade deals around the galaxy. His deal with the Magistrate is a once in a lifetime opportunity and it’s refreshing that it’s turned out well. Din Djarin did need to slow down. To him it felt like he was a War Fathier, he was surviving, and every day was a new battlefield. But now that he has started taking his time to process; now that he’s beginning to look inward and reflecting. Figuring out what he wants and how he feels, The Mandalorian is finally able to see without the blinders on and live. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime he can see. He can feel the relief of being mistreated as a child slowly disintegrating back into his subconscious.
“My past life does not reflect the person I want to be today… I’m just trying to say that a lot of that stuff shouldn’t have happened to me as a kid. And... that Grogu and I have seen enough hardships. He… we deserve a better life… Our home here is the first place I feel I can really kick my boots up and live. I just hope the structure will hold strong when I’m gone; and this is all left with the boy... Krif, that’s right. Dinner, uhh. Till next time…”
The Mando turns back around, taking a few steps before clicking a command and the image flickers off as the recording ends.