Chapter Text
Lothal did little to inspire enthusiasm or hope. Another desert planet with a vague promise of Jedi and long lost connections. Bo-Katan had been insistent, and without Slave I or a replacement for the Razor Crest, he would have made little headway in an argument. And Din didn’t feel inclined to give her a real reason to kill him. His surrender of the Darksaber didn’t seem sufficient cause to leave him be.
They had landed some part away from a complex isolated on the dunes, Capital City visible on the horizon. The dull crunching of feet padding on sand and the ship as it settled served as the only source of noise as they made their way to the building. With the full force of Lothal’s sun bearing down on every surface, the reflections of neon paint and metal made it impossible to look forward.
A girl was standing on the rails up top, her eyes glancing between all three of the Mandalorians. Fiery hair made it difficult to tell her exact reactions, but Din saw her barely give him a passing glance, before focusing on Bo-Katan and jerking her head, ushering them in.
They followed her into the small home.
“Lady Bo-Katan,” the girl said, by way of greeting. She opened her shelves and began to rummage around.
“Sabine.”
“What do you want?” She grabbed the mugs as Bo-Katan and the others settled into the chairs.
“We came for Ezra.”
“He’s not here.”
She slid the mugs around the small table before turning back. Koska and Bo-Katan took off their helmets.
“He’s investigating a strange occurrence in the Force.” Sabine started, making air quotes as she spoke. “Woke up in a frenzy, said he felt a surge on Tython so he’s gone to check it out. Your friends, one is a Reeves I have not met. The other?”
“Surprisingly relevant. Ezra is likely searching for his child,” Bo-Katan replied.
Sabine looked down and past the table to see Grogu, resting in the sling by his hip. Her eyes darted back to him and were expectant with the natural curiosity he had come to anticipate, but when he failed to move she frowned at Bo-Katan.
“He doesn’t take his helmet off that often.”
Sabine scoffed but apparently decided to let it drop. “Your choice, I don’t bite. It’s nice to make faces at the idiots of the Galaxy under there. But I don’t recognize your insignia. What clan are you?”
“Clan Mudhorn.”
Sabine’s eyebrows shot up as her face twitched with a smile. “Can’t say I’ve—”
“He’s Death Watch.”
Her vambrace was charged and loaded before Bo-Katan had finished the last syllable. As if remembering who they were, Sabine dropped her arm, shifting awkwardly. He dropped his hand from where it had instinctually jolted to his blaster at her movement. Bo-Katan sighed while fixing him with a glare and Din frowned. She had been prickly back then and now; her reaction at the time had been inflammatory. Din wondered now if all other Mandalorians were this hostile towards the Creed.
“You know the rules, Bo. You brought a member of the Watch here?” Sabine’s face was tainted with a strange sort of resentment. Whatever their history was, it wasn’t as simple as Bo-Katan had made it seem. “I thought you were done with that.”
“I’m not with the Watch. He’s one of their foundlings. It’s why he thinks he needs to keep the helmet on.”
Sabine massaged her temple as she scoured her memory. “Right, the Creed or something. At least tell me your name.”
He hesitated before speaking. “Din.”
“Sabine Wren. Clan Wren,” she replied in turn. “That’s not a name familiar to me. A Force-knows-who decked in pure beskar running around with Lady Bo-Katan? You must have quite a story to have picked up a Force-sensitive on top of all that.”
“You could say that.” Grogu gurgled in what he thought was agreement. Sabine slid a plate of meiloorun and when he started to make grabby hands, Din hoisted him out of the sling so he could reach the fruit himself.
“You’re quite talkative, Sabine,” Bo-Katan said. It was her tone, Din decided, that felt rude. As if the subject of every line was the butt of some insidious joke only she understood.
“I’m bored. Don’t get a lot of visitors.”
“He has the Darksaber as well.” Din tensed.
The girl focused on Bo-Katan again before humming. “So if he has the Darksaber, he’s your choice for Mand’alor.” She tilted her head as she gave him a proper once over. “If he’s worth his armor, he might have a chance.”
“No, the throne’s still mine. But I didn’t win the Darksaber from Moff Gideon. He did.”
Din held it up before sliding it to her, “I said I yield.”
“So it’s yours then. He can give it to you like I did last time, then I can comm Ezra and tell him to come home. Easy, is that all?” Sabine had turned back to the caf machine, shifting weight as she watched the stream of liquid trickle into the glass kettle.
“I can’t do that.” Bo-Katan said icely. “But I’m not just here for Ezra. I want you to help us retake Mandalore.”
Sabine’s head turned slightly, but her expression was hidden by the unruly mess of hair. A long silence filled the room, with only the caf machine running in the background to mark the passage of time before she shuffled over. Din looked through his peripheral vision, though the curve of the visor blurred Bo-Katan’s face. Her eyes were latched on Sabine, the steely focused gaze centered as Sabine returned the glare.
Sabine grabbed the hilt of the Darksaber, igniting the blade. It swung in a lazy arc, the edges glitching out of reality as she spun it in her hand with worn familiarity. She let it buzz for a moment before switching it off and tossing it back to him.
“No.”
“Why not.”
“I have things to do. I love Mandalore, but you have to know there’s nothing left.”
“I thought you said you were bored,” Din said, the voice coming through the modulator cool and loaded.
She gave him a look.
“I know you don’t really believe that.” Bo-Katan added.
“Well, last time didn’t work so well for us did it?” Sabine laughed sardonically. “Forgive me for being a little skeptical about doing that again.”
“Don’t lie to me, Wren. You’re sitting here, just waiting for that to happen. They’re not coming back. The galaxy hasn’t stopped moving and our window gets narrower and narrower. You’re worried about your mistakes? You have regrets? Get over it.”
Something in the girl seemed to snap. “If you want it so much why don’t you take it and go? Pry it off his corpse, show the rest of them that you’ll do nothing to get the throne back. I’m sure some will heed the code.”
“I have no quarrel with him.”
Din wasn’t sure he agreed with the assessment. Nor did Sabine.
“As if that’s ever stopped any of us. How many Mandalorians have you killed Bo? And Death Watch?” Sabine rubbed her hands over her face. It was infuriating that the semantics of inheriting the Darksaber suddenly mattered. It was tiring. “You’re not going to do it properly, and you’re not going to do it improperly. Well, that puts us at an impasse.”
“The Duchess could have ruined us.”
Din saw the girl freeze before her face blanked.
“I’ve come to terms with it,” she said softly. “And I’ve paid for it tenfold. You know that.”
“I know you have. But my point is, together, we've turned the fate of Mandalore around once already. I don’t have all the answers now, but there’s a lot to get done anyway.”
Bo-Katan leaned forward in her seat before continuing.
“Know that I trust him and help me. You swore your allegiance then. I’ve failed for longer than you’ve been alive. Trust me.” Bo-Katan turned to Din. “Look, I won’t kill you for it. You are a true Mandalorian. But you should know so long as that blade is in your hands, you can’t leave this mission.”
Her voice was cold and distant, with the ire that would normally send warning bells off in his head. She had changed the terms of a deal before, but Din had met the backstabbing types before. Bo-Katan didn’t strike him as cowardly. Dangerous and underhanded, but a warrior. To work with her was a dangerous path to tread, but Din’s allegiance would only last so long as the kid was protected anyway.
“The one who wields the Darksaber. You. Mudhorn.” Sabine pointed at him, calling his attention back to the matter at hand. “What are you going to do about that kid? You’re duty bound to Mandalore now, and Mandalore’s not exactly the place you’d take a child. Not anymore.”
“Grogu needs to be trained. I was tasked to return him to his kind. His powers are too much for me to handle.”
“So that’s his name?” Not waiting for a response, Sabine continued. “Well, my brother is a Jedi.”
“So you’ll help us?” He clarified.
“No, Ezra will help you with the kid. And if you tell him about your plan to reclaim Mandalore and he wants to get involved with your mission, I won’t stop him. Otherwise, you promise to leave us out of it.”
“Kid, what is with you? What happened to Phoenix Squadron?” Bo-Katan’s voice was unmistakably soft. “I heard about—”
“I think Ezra will be back today.” She grabbed the comm before passing the caf to the three of them, leveling a gaze at the kid. “Deep Core is kind of far, but I get this feeling he’s on his way.”
Din thought he could taste the bitterness through his helmet.