Chapter Text
DI-917 tucked the child deeper into the blankets covering it as much as he could in the hopes that it would be enough to keep it warm despite the frigid temperature. He had been lucky, nothing else would explain how he’d been able to even find a cave of this sort during a blizzard while basically kidnapping a child from the rest of his unit.
Because that’s what had happened, their entire job on this planet was to keep an eye on it and wait until someone higher on the ladder had shown up to collect. It was dangerous and everyone had been excited to finally be among such important members of the empire even after its downfall. They had worked in shifts, keeping an eye on it, making sure it didn’t run off into the snow and get itself killed.
DI-917 had spent many shifts playing with it, watching as it cooed and laughed and he had become quite attached, more attached then the others. More attached than he really should have allowed himself to get.
Attached enough to not want the poor thing anywhere near Moff Gideon.
He knew him too well by now for that.
He was grateful that a stormtrooper so low down on the food chain wouldn’t leave an impression on him, it gave him an advantage when he finally acted. Stole the child from under the bastard’s nose and ran.
Probably would have been smarter if they weren’t currently in the middle of a frozen wasteland… but he’d never been the kind to really think things through. As his commanding officer often lamented.
The child cried out in his arms, clearly still cold and frightened.
“Shhh,” he rocked back and forth gently, curling around him as he desperately tried to think of ways to warm him. “I’ve got you little one, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”
He took off his helmet, it was heated for the weather, and almost big enough for the child to fit in entirely. But it would leave them vulnerable, since he wouldn’t be able to see anyone coming through the blizzard, or hear anything over the coms. Not that they’d be broadcasting it to him, but it was a security he didn’t like losing.
But the kid mattered more.
A soft coo warmed his heart and DI-917 smiled despite the cold, a small green hand lifted towards him and he allowed the child to softly touch his cheek. He laughed, emotion welling up in his chest, how could any of his brothers be willing to hurt this little one? Could they not see how precious he was? Or were they too blinded by duty?
“Did they ever give you a name little one?” He asked gently, but he only got wide unblinking eyes as an answer.
He patted him on the head, “No matter, it has been some time since I myself had a name as well. Sometimes I don’t even know if I remember it correctly.”
The child cooed, tiny hand going to tug at his bottom lip in a curious fashion. It made it hard to speak, but he allowed it. There was a subtle realization that he would let this child get away with just about anything, but instead of fear or worry, he felt nothing but warmth and a sort of affection that had him wondering where he would put all the emotion that was suddenly swelling up and spilling out of him.
“Yeah uhh,” he waited until he was sure his voice wouldn’t crack, he wanted to be strong for him, stability in such an unstable place, “it might have had a y? Could have been an i though. I’m fairly certain it was Dynn”
He chuckled, pulling the kid’s hand away, gently, before playing with his large ears. There was a soft coo, so he figured the kid must like it.
“I remember my mother used to call me that before they took me away.”
“Dynn Jarren… or Din Djaren? I …” He bit his lip, “I really wish I could remember. But that’s against my training”
His cheeks were probably turning blue by now, the warmth of his suit was doing nothing to help his head against the cold. They were going to have to find a way off this planet, but Dynn didn’t have a ship.
Couldn’t fly one if he did honestly, a trooper can’t mutiny if they can’t leave. At least, that’s what his platoon used to joke. “ If I could learn to fly, I’d be so far gone to the edges of the galaxy, even a Mandalorian wouldn’t be able to find me, much less my dumbass commander”
If only he could.
But he was a traitor now, and as thick as their bonds had been, Dynn new what happened to traitors. And he wasn’t about to let a kid get involved in that. Not this one.
They didn’t get to have this kid.
-
A simple job, he had been promised, with an impressive payout. Enough Beskar to deck out every foundling in the covert with their first helmet and Corin had been hard pressed to say no.
The guild hadn’t mentioned the part where he’d be working with the Empire. The one thing he hated more than anything else. The thing his father and uncle had dedicated their lives to until it killed them and left him completely alone.
“So, Mandalorian,” Moff Gideon said, objectively one of the worst the Empire has to offer, which was a feat all on its own, “it’s simple. You return the wayward stormtrooper and what he stole, and we give you enough Beskar to make yourself an entirely new set of armor”
The job was suspiciously simple, something he expected even the man’s own men would be able to handle on their own. It had Corin itching under his armor, a creeping feeling of dread that he wasn’t getting the full truth, but it was against the guild’s code to get too suspicious. So instead he pushed down his discomfort, and nodded his head.
Mod Gideon was an irritation the likes of which Corin had never wanted to deal with, but he’d already taken the job. And he had pride. He wouldn’t let down the guild, or his covert. Not even if it took his life, especially if it took his life.
They were worth any price he had to pay for what they had done for him, and if he had to put aside his hatred to do what was best for them, he would.
“Do you have a tracking fob?”
Moff Gideon smiled “of course”
He turned around, and Corin had the sudden urge to make a face at him beneath the helmet. But it wouldn’t be as satisfying if he couldn’t see the disrespect himself. So he settled for rolling his eyes and watching as the man grabbed a small device and held it out for him to take.
“I trust you’ll be back soon?”
“Worried he’ll fly away?”
His eyes darkened, “I warn you, this one… is different. He won’t be the easy fight you’re expecting.”
He didn’t bother to respond to that, the idea that a stormtrooper would even be able to hold his own against a Mandalorian was laughable. But Corin…
He shook his head. He took the oath, he wore the armor, he was a Mandalorian just as much as the rest of his clan. They had spent years telling him that.
He just wished he felt as strongly as they did about his place. So until then, he would do his duty, and provide.
Dynn woke up startled, a feeling in the back of his head that they needed to move, and to move now. He checked on the child, softly sleeping in the warmth of his helmet. At least they had made it through the night, that was the hardest part.
Now they got to do something fun.
“Ready to steal a Tie-fighter?” He said to the sleeping child as he gathered him to his chest. “Cause we are going to steal a tie fighter.”
How they were going to do that was a completely different question, but Dyn rarely let that stop him. So they left the cave.
They were at least eight hours away from the base walking, it was the minimum distance Dynn had felt safe traveling before stopping to rest. But there was an outpost to the north, it was another ten or so hours away by foot, but it was understaffed and the guard shifts were often bored, spending more time on their data pads or napping in their helmets rather than staying completely on guard.
Besides, no one would expect him to make it that far in this weather.
That’s why he would.
It was less than an hour in the howling wind and snow before the child woke up, cranky from being stuffed into such a small space and likely hungry as well. He rocked him gently, singing an old marching song from his training days and trying to soothe it as best he could. He didn’t want to stop so early in their journey, it was dangerous to lose momentum out here.
Hours passed, and it barely seemed like they had gone any distance at all, the footsteps he’d left behind as he trudged along rarely lasted more than a moment and the White dancing around him seemed endless.
There were times where he found himself wondering if he was still even going the right way, itching to put his helmet back on just for a moment to check.
But even a moment wouldn’t be worth it.
So he continued forward and hoped he was making progress, the child held tight in his arms.
It was another four hours before the child acted up once again, his cries loud and piercing and Dynn knew it was time. He dug them a small shelter in the snow, packing tightly and forming bricks that he stacked around them. It wouldn’t be any warmer than the cave, but it would keep out the weather and that was all he could hope for now.
“Here” he said, gently shushing the baby as he took out the last of his ration packs. If he didn’t eat, it should last a couple of days, so he sorted it out and gave a portion to the child. Feeding him slowly and making sure it went down gently.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about rearing children,” he said as he packed the rest away for later, “but my mother always used to pat me on the back when I ate so uh…”
He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so awkward, it wasn’t like the child was going to judge him. Dynn picked him up gently from the helmet, holding him gently against his chest and began to pat him on the back while bouncing him slowly. It was soothing, and Dynn could feel the baby loosening against him as he relaxed. His chest felt tight,
How could anyone want to hurt this? How much heart is carved out before one is alive only by the barest of definition? If Dynn had killed Mof Gideon back then, when he’d had the chance so long ago, would this child have been left with his family, untouched, or would some other twisted part of the empire have stolen him away?
Dynn sighed and continued to gently pat the child, there was no way to really know. And no use in dwelling, all he could do was be thankful he hadn’t been recognized, that he’d been able to grab the child once he found out exactly who it was that had come to collect him.
He was abruptly interrupted from his thoughts as the child let out a loud burp and Dynn chuckled. “Are you okay now little one?” He asked, pulling him gently away and settling him back into the warm helmet. “Because we’re leaving again, and we won’t be able to stop for sometime”
The child let out a soft coo, which Dynn took as an affirmative, so he stood up and kicked his way out of their small shelter. He quickly destroyed it in case it was used to help track them, and then he started moving once more. Step by frigid step.
The stormtrooper was smarter than Corin had given him credit to be. At first it seemed simple, the tracking fob was leading him to one place, roughly three hours away by scooter, at least, in the blizzard, and Corin had assumed he’d either hunkered down somewhere with the asset, or that he had died.
Either way it wouldn’t be long before he found an empty cave with absolutely no sign that anyone had even been there. And Corin sighed, he wasn’t good at tracking, or navigation, and apparently this stormtrooper was going to do everything he could to use Corin’s weakness against him.
And he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.
Corin got back on the scooter, it still had a bit of gas left, enough to go another couple of hours before heading back. But he didn’t know how much was going to be wasted trying to search a blizzard for a single man wearing pure white armor and he really didn’t like the thought of getting trapped out in it.
But this job was for the covert, so he did it anyways, and set out once again. His tracker slowly bringing him closer to the poor son of a bitch Moff Gideon had set his eyes on.
A few hours later, the tracker was consistent once more, it seemed he had hunkered down again. And Corin felt he was finally getting closer, switching his helmet to detect heat signatures just in case he stumbled upon him. He could almost taste his victory, was counting all the ways the Beskar could help the foundlings and the rest of the covert, before it started moving again and he had to smother a groan of frustration.
“Why won’t you just. Stay still ” he growled as he changed directions once more. And how was he traveling this far on foot of all things? In this weather? Was the man actually a Tauntaun?
He increased his speed, he had to catch up eventually.
It was another couple of hours before he heard it, a soft singing in front of him that caused Corin to immediately turn off the scooter. He didn’t want to be heard coming.
It was an old imperial marching song that he could almost remember his father singing to him as a boy, and Corin walked towards it. Enthralled, why was he singing? How did it not come out muffled and metallic like everything else he’d ever heard from a stormtrooper through their helmets.
But that question was soon answered when he finally caught up to him, he was digging, and he wasn’t wearing his helmet, despite the cold. Instead it was laying next to him in an already dug out place, and Corin found himself arrested by the sight.
A Stormtrooper, but certainly no clone. His face was soft and gentle, and his hair fell in soft waves that were barely within regulations if they even were in the first place, with a small smile as he dug and packed the snow around it.
He clearly knew what he was doing, and his confidence had Corin almost stepping back. A stormtrooper they had said, had practically sneered. A traitor.
How could someone look so at peace after abandoning everything they knew? Corin had certainly never looked that way beneath his own helmet. And he had been taken in, accepted into a culture, never truly on his own.
And that is what had him stepping forward, he had a job to do after all, and a pretty face had never stopped him before.
A gentle coo distracted him though, and the man looked up. All the softness had vanished from his face and his eyes had gone cold, as frigid as the snow around him.
Corin didn’t even get the chance to reach for his blaster before the man had grabbed his helmet and practically thrown it into the half built shelter. He missed his first shot, not expecting that reaction. Was there something in the helmet?
He didn’t really get to finish that thought as the man fired back, his aim steady and accurate, some stormtrooper .
But the Beskar protected him, and the other man seemed to realize it. Corin almost smirked before he was being hit in the head with the pistol itself and tackled to the ground.
There was no way this man had only ever been trained as a stormtrooper, Corin thought as he rolled to avoid a pin, only to have the man kneed him in the helmet, almost breaking his nose with it. He growled and grabbed the man’s leg, pulling him close to get his own punch in, but the man smiled, a vicious thing that was all teeth and Corin had to roll to dodge the blade before it was stabbed between his ribs.
Smart, angry, far too skilled, no wonder Moff Gideon had warned him, this man was nothing like what he had expected. And Corin found himself starting to actually enjoy the fight, it reminded him of the times he would train with the other Mandalorians, of the times he was able to prove himself. He felt alive, he felt useful, he felt like a Mandalorian.
But the fight couldn’t last forever, and another soft coo had Corin distracted, just enough, that the other man got in a hard enough hit, and everything went dark.