Chapter Text
Mando had the blaster out without thinking, pointed dead at Bastion’s head. Pisa bellowed and leveled her rifle at him once more; at this range, it’d blow a hole in his beskar as big as his head.
He wanted to do kill Bastion with a rage he hadn’t felt since he was a young man; he wanted to shoot the smug shabhole in the face and he almost pulled the trigger and gambled on being able to avoid Pisa long enough to kill her.
That wouldn’t help Parjii, though, and he choked back his rage. “I do care. I didn’t shoot you for that threat only because I’m not the same man you knew all those years ago. If you try to keep Parjii from me, I’ll show you the other ways I’ve matured. She’s the only person who gets to say whether I see her again or not.”
The silence after his statement hung heavy for a moment; Bastion nodded finally. Mando lowered his blaster, though Pisa didn’t. “So,” Bastion asked casually, “who’s that?”
Mando turned to see The Kid standing at the top of the ramp, watching them with dark eyes. Wondering how long he’d been there, he turned back to Bastion. “He stays with me.”
“Not what I asked, Mando, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine,” Bastion said. Mando didn’t trust this calm, or the way Bastion watched the kid. “Just haven’t seen anyone like him in a long time.”
“Wait, you’ve seen his people?” Mando asked, anger fading in light of a possible lead.
“I know of a member of his species,” Bastion replied. “But he died in the war.”
Mando slumped as the child waddled down the ramp and came to a stop in the shadow of his boot. The tiny being stared at the strangers, not afraid but wary. Frowning, Mando asked, “You don’t know anything about where the other one like him came from?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Did he fight for the Rebellion or the Empire?” Mando asked, hoping if he could find people who knew this alien better, they could lead him to The Kid’s people.
“He fought for the Republic,” Bastion said softly, “in the Clone Wars.”
“Oh.” Mando sighed.
“You’re taking care of a kid?” Bastion asked. “Who trusted you with their child?”
“Parjii and I are,” Mando said pointedly. At her name, The Kid started to scan the area. “Was my answer good enough or do I have to start searching your school for her?”
“Of course it’s good enough,” Bastion said. “And don’t worry about tuition.”
Mando scowled. “What was all that ‘I expect to be paid’?”
“Rancor-dwang,” Bastion said with a shrug. “The last time I stood this close to you, you shook my hand and promised you’d be there to pick me up--”
Mando sighed. “I said sorry, didn’t I?”
Bastion waggled his fingers in a ‘sorta’ gesture. “And the last time I saw your ship was when it buzzed over my head and left Pisa and I on Dantoonie with half the planet looking for us. So I put you through some hoops before letting you off the hook. Get over it. Someone will come get you for dinner, and I’ll tell you then about how long I think she’ll need to be here.” He turned to leave, but Mando called him back.
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry I crossed you,” Mando said sincerely. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“You’re right. I still appreciate you saying it,” Bastion said before leaving. Pisa gave him a last growl and followed after him.
Sighing, Mando looked down at the little alien now half-hiding behind his boot. “You had to come out then?” The Kid grinned delightedly at him. Picking him up, Mando carried him aboard to wait for dinner.
~ * ~ * ~
The solitude gave him the chance to consider how to say goodbye. Thirty minutes before the time, he realized that now was the perfect opportunity to tell her the one thing he’d been afraid to admit. The thought terrified him, but she deserved to know, and it might help her feel better about being left here. It might even let her cut ties with him, which he knew was best for her.
Abo sauntered out to the ship to collect him, and Mando helfted Parjii’s bag on one shoulder and The Kid on the other. The two men walked in silence as Abo led him through the school grounds. Mando noted the layout as they walked, making no attempt to hide his scrutiny. Three main buildings constructed in the graceful Naboo style faced a central square which bore the marks of being used as an exercise yard. Paths edged out into the trees, and Abo took one of these, leading him around the middle building to a bonfire.
Mando had wondered if he should come unarmed, but everyone here wore a weapon, save Parjii. She sat in a chair, looking tired and out of place. That didn’t seem to matter to the people sitting on the logs around her; they welcomed her with their smiles and body language. Bastion sat beside her, cleaning a blaster and talking. The firelight turned her eyes to molten gold as Parjii laughed at something Bastion said.
Seeing her felt like a hammer to his chest, and he realized that yes, he was leaving her here. He’d had moments like this before, where an opening void in his chest told him that he’d regret this move later. It wouldn’t stop him, it never did, but suddenly he was tired of that emptiness. He stayed back, on the other side of the bonfire, turning just enough so that The Kid couldn’t see her as he wrestled silently with what was coming. He’d never felt so weary at the thought of leaving someone behind, of going back to the Crest without her.
“Those her things?” Amli appeared at his elbow with a plate of food, then saw the child perched on his shoulder. “Ohhhhh, look at you! Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing! Come to Auntie Amli,” she offered, opening her arms. The Kid vacated Mando in a hot second, finding a position on the woman where he could see and still grab bits of food.
“What should I do with the bag?” Mando asked, suddenly wondering if this had been a good idea.
“I’ll drop it at her room,” Abo offered, and Mando let him take it at Amli’s nod.
“You want some food?” Amli asked and Mando declined politely. “Bastion said you wouldn’t, but I like to be hospitable.” After a moment, she said, “Having second thoughts?”
“Hmm?” Mando realized he’d been staring at Parjii, watching her lean toward Bastion as he showed her how to clean the weapon.
“I asked if you were having--”
“No.” His firm rebuttal cut her off. “I’m actually wondering if I should just go.”
“I hear you’re good at that,” Amli replied. Mando set his jaw, just about ready to grab The Kid and do just that, when she said, “Someday, you’re going to realize that being alone isn’t being strong.”
“Why do you say that?” Mando asked. That went against his training, and he wasn’t sure how someone could justify that statement.
“Because being a real friend or real lover takes so much work and strength.” Something in her tone suggested that Amli had known love and grief; her words had depth of experience in them. “Being alone is easy. Lonely but easy.”
“This isn’t easy,” Mando growled.
“Leaving isn’t,” Amli said, “but staying is harder.”
Parjii caught sight of him then, and leaving became more cruel than he could stomach, especially when she saw the child. She struggled to stand, and he picked The Kid up and went over to meet her. Her expression faltered when they drew close, but the child had no hesitation. He reached for her with a soft cry, and she hugged him. The pain that washed over her face made Mando hate himself. “I will miss you,” she said to the baby solemnly.
“Your Basic is getting better already,” Mando said, wondering why that lame statement was what he’d chosen to lead with.
“I practice that,” she said softly.
“Can we talk? Before I go?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied and he offered an arm. They started a slow walk through the forest, staying close enough to see the light of the bonfire. Mando caught sight of Pisa once, sliding through the shadows like the furred predator she’d been born to be. He would have liked complete privacy but that wasn’t going to happen short of going back to the Crest and he wasn’t putting Parjii through that long of a walk just to save his pride.
“You’re moving better,” he noted. “They dunk you for a bit?”
Parjii nodded as The Kid snuggled in her other arm. “I do bacta tank again tonight, should be fine tomorrow.”
They came across a path in the trees and started to follow it randomly. When the trees pulled back on a firing range, the targets black with carbon scoring and the sounds of the gathering only a distant hum, Mando helped her sit down on a bench at the edge of the clearing. He sat next to her, wondering if she’d want to be this close to him after this. “I wanted to tell you something,” he said, swallowing hard and steeling himself to stick to the plan. “I wanted to tell you how I found The Kid.”
“Okee. Uh, O- kay ,” she replied with a smile, brushing gentle fingers over the topic’s green ears.
Don’t smile , he wanted to say, but instead he started with, “I was hired to bring him in. He was my bounty.” That wiped away her smile and replaced it with confusion. “And I did it. I turned him over to Imperials for a fortune in beskar.” He tapped his armor. “Most of it is here.”
Horror washed through her confusion and Mando made himself watch the transformation. “How?” she asked, and he started to tell her how important beskar was to him, how his Creed demanded he support the covert before anyone else. “How he here?” she asked, looking down at the child and running a gentle thumb over his cheek. The Kid grabbed her thumb with a smile and hugged it, his dark eyes shining in the moonlight.
“I went back and attacked the Imperials to get him,” Mando said honestly. Part of him hoped she’d storm away -- well, stagger away in her condition -- in outrage. That they’d fight about The Kid staying here. The part of him that hated that void in his chest delighted that she’d focused on what had happened after. “It cost my covert their secrecy, and some of them probably died.” She still hadn’t looked at him, watching the child in her lap. The desires of his loneliness lost to the familiar pain of driving people away. “He’s only alive because one of the doctors at the facility worked to keep him alive. He almost died because I wanted my payout.”
“I no understand,” she said softly. “You love beebee.”
“I…” He swallowed, wondering why everyone was trying to force him to admit feelings. “He was a bounty when I met him.”
“He beebee when you meet,” Parjii said, anger ringing in her voice. The Kid made a soft noise of distress at her tone, and she automatically rubbed his back in soothing circles.
“I know that,” he replied.
Her eyes rose to the targets, searching the dark night. He could see her struggle to incorporate this new image of him -- the full image of him into her idea of who and what he was. A cloud passed over the moon, dropping them into darkness, and he didn’t bother to activate the night filter. “You go back because feel sorry?” she finally asked.
For a long moment, he thought, wanting to be sure it was the most truthful and clear statement of his motives. “I went back because I couldn’t leave him there. No one would tell me what they wanted him for, and they threw out his bassinet. I knew they didn’t mean him well, and I still left him there.”
She turned to him, twisting on the bench to grab his hand. The Kid watched, curious as she curled Mando’s fingers into a fist and said, “You so strong here .” Dropping his hand, she tapped his Beskaryc Kar'ta , her nails rapping on his iron heart. “You so weak here .”
The cloud rolled away, and he saw the wet track of tears on her face. Mission accomplished , he thought to himself as shame rolled through him. She sees the real you . Hurt turned his tone gruff. “I have to leave soon. Say goodbye to The Kid.”
“No, I have something to tell you ,” she insisted. Steeling himself for hate, she said, “I not strong like you, or Nima still live.” Her arms stiffed around the baby protectively -- protecting him from Mando, and that hurt worse than her anger. “Don’t let weak heart kill Thakhid. If you no promise me, he no go.”
A tear splashed onto The Kid’s head and he touched the wet spot in surprise. Mando should be mad at the ultimatum, but he knew that her statement came from love. He also knew -- they both knew that she couldn’t back up her threat. He could take the kid no matter what she said, but he’d have to hurt her to do it. It wasn’t Pisa’s presence in the trees that stopped him; it was the thought of hurting her, even for The Kid.
“I promise,” he said. “I’ll protect him so long as I live.” He’d already promised that to the child, at least until he found a safe place for him.
Parjii carried The Kid back to camp; even with Mando’s arm to lean on, his light weight had over-extended the limits of her sore back, judging by the pain in her expression when Mando helped her back into her chair. She settled and kissed the baby’s head, openly weeping. Mando waited as she spoke to the child in Twileki for a while, her voice thickening with sobs. The Kid’s expression went somber, and Mando remembered the last time he’d seen the child look like that: leaving Sorgan. Sorry, Kid, I promise someday you’ll be done with goodbyes.
The people who’d been sitting around Parjii were quiet as she spoke, some silently wiping their eyes. He heard a couple of sniffles, and received more than a few glares from students or teachers. Bastion moved quietly to his side, and said, “Minimum two months. You know, Naboo needs bounty hunters.”
“The Kid’s got hunters on his tail, and I burned the Guild to save him.” Mando kept his voice low. “I don’t want to draw them to your school.”
“Appreciate that.” Bastion sighed. “It’s going to be hard.”
“She’ll miss him.” Mando said. I’ll miss her .
Bastion snorted. “I meant hard for you , bucket-head.”
He started to deny it but let the impulse go. “I’ll manage.”
“I know.” Bastion extended a hand to him. “I’ll keep you updated. Fly safe.”
Mando shook it. “Thank you, Bastion.”
“You’re welcome.”After that, the former soldier left him alone, and Mando waited until Parjii looked up at him. He went to her side and took the child, who made a soft sound and burrowed against Mando. “Don’t worry about us,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”
“You promise,” she reminded him and he nodded. Her lips parted, then closed, and then opened again. He waited patiently for her to formulate her thoughts; then she stood painfully and kissed The Kid again. She looked up at him, locking gaze with his visor.
She licked her lips once, then kissed his helmet over his mouth. Mando inhaled sharply, blinking, at a loss of what to say. She turned away from him and limped to Amli, who took her arm and helped her walk away.
Mando touched his helmet, fingers moving to the spot she’d kissed. It felt no different than any other part but his mind was locked on the idea that it was changed somehow. That strange feeling lasted right until The Kid yanked his helmet down and kissed him in the same spot. A couple of the academy onlookers chuckled, and that broke Mando’s shock. “What was that?” he asked The Kid, glad the helmet hid the blush flaming his cheeks.
The Kid grinned at his reaction, delighted that his mimicry had rendered a result. “Very funny,” Mando said, turning toward the Crest . “That’s not how it’s done.”
The kid tilted his head at him in silent inquiry and Mando shook his head. “I’ll explain when you’re older.” Much older.