Chapter Text
Din couldn't fathom how the situation had taken such a terrible turn for the worse.
Well, maybe with his recent track record, it shouldn't have been a surprise.
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He was attempting to cook a meal for him and the child, watching the kid play out of the corner of his eye. The Mandalorian's ship was orbiting a blue-green planet (one that they could hopefully lay low on) and he was confident that he would find a job somewhere in the system. Din was coming short on credits after his last job; his employer had ended up revealing himself as a bounty hunter—needless to say, he didn't get paid. He wished that, for once, they could settle down somewhere that wasn't crawling with bandits, bounty hunters, or imps.
And especially away from those thieving Jawas, he thought wryly.
It seemed that everywhere they went, enemies were hiding in the shadows. They would swarm in alleyways, sneak-attack Din's camp, and sometimes, if they were lucky enough to catch him on a particularly bad day, they were able to attack him head-on, surprising him enough to get a lucky shot in. Honestly, at that point, he had gotten used to the frequent attacks on him and the kid in the streets.
He had just finished making their food (a ration bar for him and a bowl of broth for the kid) when the ship jerked to the side, sending both Din and the child tumbling to the ground with a loud thud, the kid squealing with alarm at the jolt to his small body.
For some reason, Din had not quite gotten used to the frequent attacks in space.
Growling a swear word and furrowing his brows, he rushed to his feet, grabbing the child into his arms before placing him in his bed. "Don't worry, I'll handle it," he comforted the kid, scrambling up the ladder to the cockpit as the door to the compartment hissed shut.
They had taken a hit to the right side of the ship. The damage was minor, but if left unattended it could cause the ship to destabilize. Turning the ship around, whilst trying to dodge the scattered shots aiming for him, Din saw that the attacker was flying a rebel X-Wing—from what he could see, it was in terrible condition and the ship appeared outdated and faded. It was most likely stolen from the Republic years ago.
Another blaster shot hit them, rocking them to the side again. In his unprepared state and because of a sudden adrenaline rush, Din forgot to brace himself against the shockwave; he lost his balance and his head was slammed into the wall. Dazed, he reached again for the controls, his vision spinning uncontrollably. He managed to dodge another hit and retaliated back at the X-Wing, shooting one of the wings on the ship's right side. The attack did not seem to phase the bounty hunter (for that was what they surely were) and they returned fire immediately.
It was a direct hit on one of the less protected parts of the Mandalorian's ship and alarms began to chirp all around Din. "Kriffing—" he cut off, frantically trying to get the controls to do what he wanted, but it was stuck. The ship began a steep descent into the atmosphere of the planet. They were free-falling, the Razer Crest gaining speed and becoming scalding as it slid into the planet's air.
Images of the child, mangled and bloody flooded his mind, strangling his heart and filling him with a pang of deep, horrifying guilt. I can't let him die.
As they fell closer to the ground, Din felt a tug on his pants and heard a worried coo from below him; the kid had gotten out of his compartment and was grasping his leg. Grabbing the child with one hand, he put him on his lap and tried to make their landing less deadly than it was already going to be. "There is nothing more I can do," he spoke grimly to the green kid in his lap, pulling on the controls with all of his strength.
All the kid replied with was a tightened grip and a concerned chirp as he stared into the Mandalorian's visor with his big, brown eyes, the baby's ears lowering in what Din assumed to be fear.
Din quickly pressed a button on the control panel before scrambling back to the controls, closing his eyes as fear for the baby in his arms overcame him.
He grabbed his kid and wrapped his body around him protectively just as the falling ship made contact with the ground. The tearing of metal sheared through his mind as a searing white agony drilled into his nerves. Unconsciousness claimed him instantly and dragged him deep into the abyss of nothingness.
I'm sorry little one.