Chapter Text
“Are you sure you’d like to come with me?”
Luke looked up from where he was busy strapping his pack down in the Razor Crest’s cargo bay. Din was waiting by the ladder to the cockpit, watching.
“Of course,” he said, turning and giving Din a small smile. “I know you don’t necessarily need my help, but Fett’s comm sounded interesting, and I can help you keep Grogu from getting into too much trouble.”
“Patoo!”
Luke laughed as Grogu toddled up to him, bending down to scoop him up.
“Yes, little one, you are a terror, aren’t you? Someone’s got to help your dad manage your mischief.” Grogu babbled and patted Luke’s face.
“Well then,” Din said, turning to the ladder to the cockpit, “Let’s head to Tatooine.”
“LUKE SKYWALKER! You little womp rat bastard! Where did you run off to, huh? What’d kriffing Wormie Skywalker have to do that was so important that he had to go off-world RIGHT BEFORE HIS SHIFT? Huh?!”
Luke had gone pale and his eyes were wide as saucers. Din watched, amused and a little baffled, as Peli stormed over to the Razor Crest’s ramp and began to punch Luke repeatedly in the arm.
“Hey! Ow!” Luke cringed back, hands up, but made no other move to defend himself. “Peli! Hey, Peli, I’m sorry, listen-“
Din finally stepped forward and held a placating hand up between them. She stopped punching Luke but stood back with her fists on her hips, clearly still furious. “Peli, I didn’t know you knew Luke,” Din said, and she snorted.
“Of course I know him! Used to work here with me when his uncle would let him off the farm. He skipped out on me and cost me a big repair job with that Hutt, didn’t have enough manpower to finish the job. You’d better have a good excuse, Skywalker.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
Luke licked his lips and glanced to Din, then back to her. “Uh... well... it’s a long story, Peli,” he said, and she snorted again. “No, really, I will explain, but I think we’re going to want to sit down for a while. Is the cantina still open?”
“Course it is,” she rolled her eyes. “Not much else to do around here, is there? How’s about you buy me a drink and explain what was so kriffing important you couldn’t even say goodbye?”
Luke nodded quickly, and she glared at him for a beat longer, then turned to Din.
“Where’s the child? You’re not leaving him on the ship again, are you?”
Din held up the bag that was slung over his back, and Peli finally smiled as Grogu’s little head popped up over the edge. He babbled and lifted his little hands up, and she gladly gathered him up in her arms. “Oh, there you are, little one! I’m glad to see you again, at least.”
Peli turned and glanced between Din and Luke. “Well, come on, you owe me some spotchka, Skywalker.” She turned to her team of droids. “Give this bucket a once over, and be careful, you got that?” They trilled and gathered up their tools, heading to the side of the ship.
As they followed Peli out of the hangar, Din leaned over and muttered, “Wormie?”
Luke groaned and shoved his shoulder. “Shut up.”
The patrons of the bar looked up as they entered, going quiet and staring after Din in that familiar, wearying way as they headed for a shadowed booth in the corner. He heard the odd “Mando,” but no one confronted him, so it was pretty tame, in his experience. Luke, it seemed, had noticed the looks as well, and he frowned as he glanced at a nearby Rodian who was openly muttering to his human partner, watching Din sit down.
“It’s fine.” Din said, touching Luke’s arm, and gesturing for him to sit down as well. “Used to it.”
Peli deposited Grogu in Luke’s arms, and headed to the bar to order their drinks. Grogu cooed and patted Luke’s face, and Luke smiled down at him. Din felt a rush of something in his chest and he was grateful, as he often was, for the cover of his helmet, so he didn’t have to worry about his expression showing something he didn’t want to.
“Here we are,” Peli said, plopping a tray with a carafe, three glasses, and a small bowl down on their table. “I got a bowl of broth for the little one, as well.” She handed the bowl over to Grogu, who gurgled happily as he took it. She poured a measure of spotchka out for all three of them, then settled into the booth next to Din, across from Luke.
“So, kid,” Peli said, taking a swig, “you said you have a story to tell?”
Luke fidgeted with his glass, a frown forming on his brow. “Not many know the whole story, Peli. I need your word that you won’t let it slip to anyone, you got that?”
Peli, looking affronted, immediately protested the idea that she would say anything. Luke glanced up at Din, but didn’t say anything. Din nodded, and Luke smiled thinly at him.
“Okay. So. To start- Peli, how much do you know about how the Empire fell? The Battle of Yavin?”
Din let Luke’s voice fade slightly into the background as he looked around the room. It sounded like Luke was going to give Peli the polished, easy to explain story the New Republic had passed around-- not that Din blamed him, given how complicated the real tale was. Luke had explained it to him once, and it still made Din’s blood run cold and his heart clench in his chest to remember Luke’s face, as he told him everything.
Din had been dead asleep in the small guest room of Luke’s hut on Yavin IV, Grogu asleep in his cot next to Din’s bed, when he jerked awake at the sound of clattering coming from the kitchen. He pulled his helmet on as quickly and quietly as possible, though he didn’t have time to pull any of the rest of his armor on. He snuck out into the hallway in his flight suit, blaster in hand. The infrared in his HUD showed one lifeform, hunched over the kitchen counter.
Din snuck around the hallway corner, leading with his blaster, but the second his helmet cleared the wall’s obstruction, he stopped. There was no intruder- it was just Luke, leaning with both palms flat on the countertop and his head dropped low between his shoulders, weariness sketched down the line of his back. Din stopped short and dropped his blaster back into its holster. The soft, barely-there brush of plastoid on leather must have been enough to alert Luke to his presence-- he whipped around, hand coming up in that familiar, grasping motion both he and Grogu used, and suddenly Din was surrounded on all sides by invisible pressure, his arms pressed into his sides and unable to move a muscle. Luke’s eyes were wild, but in a split second they focused and Din saw the moment realization struck, and they went wide as Luke dropped his hand as if burned. Din sagged when the invisible pressure released, and he slowly held up his hands and said “Sorry, it’s just me, I heard a noise, and--”
Luke dragged a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Din, you surprised me, that’s all.”
“It’s okay.”
They stood staring at each other for a moment, before Luke laughed a little ruefully and gestured to the kitchen table. “Care to join me? I doubt I’m going to go back to sleep tonight.”
Din acquiesced, sinking into one of the seats as Luke turned and took another mug down from the cabinets above the stove. He was methodical in the tea’s preparation, but Din could see a minute tremor running through his arms. Before Din could offer his help, though, Luke turned back to the table and set one of the mugs in front of him. “I don’t know if you like tea, but this always helps me when I’m unable to sleep. My aunt’s recipe.”
Din nodded his thanks. The steam from the mug curled gently in the soft light of the lamp over the stove, and when Din looked back at Luke his eyes looked black in the shadows it cast over his face.
They sat in silence for a minute or two, Luke sipping from his mug every so often. Din had learned to wait until hot drinks were mostly cool, so he could drink them in one go and not have to lift his helmet more than absolutely necessary, so he merely watched Luke as he stared at the tabletop, deep in thought.
“What do you know about the fall of the Empire?”
Din started slightly at the suddenness of the question. “Uh-- not much. Our covert was pretty hidden and we never paid attention to much outside news- especially since it never quite mattered out in the Outer Rim. I know they were defeated several years ago in a battle of some kind, and that plenty of Imps have stuck around trying to rebuild ever since.”
Luke’s lips curled up in a hint of amusement as he nodded, still staring at the tabletop. “Well, you’re not wrong, exactly. There was a battle- the Battle of Yavin, just above this moon, actually. But there’s a lot more to it than just that. I-- I was involved in a lot of it. Most of it, I guess.”
“Because you’re a Jedi?”
“You could-- you could say that, yes.”
Luke was silent for a moment, then he sighed, a deep gust that seemed to come from his very bones.
“Do you know who Darth Vader was?”
Din’s silence must have been answer enough.
“He was the Emperor’s right hand. He-- he perpetrated awful crimes throughout the galaxy, subjugated and destroyed so many lives and whole planets. He did this,” Luke said, lifting his right hand, the one covered by a black glove, and wiggled his fingers, “The first time I fought him.”
“Did what?”
“Oh--” Luke’s amusement was evident now, and he let go of his mug, tugged the glove off, and reached his hand across the table. “I didn’t realize you didn’t know. It’s mechanical. See?”
Din reached out, slowly, to take his hand, feeling the synthetic skin with soft fingertips. He could feel the faint whirring of the joints under the skin as Luke curled his fingers. He pushed the sleeve of Luke’s robe up just slightly and traced up the wrist to the join where it met flesh, about halfway up his forearm. Luke’s arm trembled minutely, and Din released him quickly, jerking his hands back to his lap, embarrassment burning in his cheeks. Luke lingered for a beat longer before slowly drawing his arm back. Din looked down and cleared his throat.
“It must have been painful to lose it.”
“Yes,” Luke agreed, “But a lightsaber, at least, leaves a clean cut. Made it easier to attach the prosthetic.”
Din nodded, slowly, and Luke stared into the distance for a moment before he visibly shook himself and looked back up at Din.
“Anyway. As I was saying- I lost this to Vader the first time I fought him. This was on Bespin- the Cloud City. The second time was over Endor, on the second Death Star.”
“Second?”
Luke snorted. “Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t know much, were you?” He seemed to sense that Din bristled slightly at that, because he was quick to add, “Not a bad thing. Maker knows I wish I knew less. It’s just, most people know about the Death Stars, anyway. Yes, it was the second one. I- well, I kind of destroyed the first one. That was during the Battle of Yavin.”
Din sat back and stared at Luke for a second. “You know, you’re doing a terrible job of selling yourself here. So, you destroyed the first Death Star, then fought Vader, then ended up on the second Death Star and fought him again. Is that right?”
Luke shrugged. “Pretty much. The second time, the Emperor was there too. He was a Sith Lord-- he called himself Darth Sidious. He tried to get me to join him. I refused. So he- he hit me with force lightning.”
Din’s breath punched out of him with a noise that sounded wounded, even to him. Luke’s mouth crooked in a sad half-smile. He held his hands out in front of him, letting Din see the minute tremors that ran through them. “That’s what caused these shakes. Nerve damage, the med droid said.”
“Kriffing hells, Luke.”
Luke shrugged again, and his face seemed almost painfully nonchalant. “It’s okay. It happened, and I survived.” He sobered, then, and his voice was much quieter as he said, “My father saved me.”
“Your- your father was there?”
“Yes.” Luke swallowed, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment, before he looked up and looked Din straight in the face, unerringly finding his eyes through the transparisteel of his visor. “My father was Darth Vader.”
Din’s brain seemed to shut down for a moment. He lurched upright in his seat, hands coming up to grip the edge of the tabletop in an almost painfully tight hold. “Your- your father. The same man who cut your hand off? ” Luke nodded and smiled grimly. “Did he know he was your father when he did it?”
“Yes. He told me right after.”
Din found he was having trouble breathing. He clenched his hands into fists on top of the table and closed his eyes, once again grateful for the cover of his helmet as he drew a deep, slow breath in and out. He ground his teeth for a second, before he gritted out, “Then he wasn’t your father. Any parent who would hurt their child is-- is anathema.” He took another breath. “ Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la.” Luke furrowed his brows at the soft Mando’a. “Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you’ll be.”
Luke looked sad and tired. “But I do care. He saved me, Din. He… I can’t excuse or even explain what he did. Not truly. But he was manipulated for nearly twenty years by the Emperor, and when it mattered, he saved me. He was the one who killed the Emperor-- he threw him down a reactor shaft, to stop him from hurting me. In the last moments of his life, he was no longer Darth Vader, but Anakin Skywalker.” He sighed. “I understand what you meant, though. Thank you.”
They sat in silence once more, neither looking at the other as they contemplated their own sides of Luke’s story. Belatedly, Din realized his mug of tea had since gone stone cold. He glanced up at Luke, who was staring down at his hands, mentally shrugged, and tilted his helmet up so he could gulp down the tea anyway. No sense in letting it go to waste. When he had his helmet settled again, he looked up to find that Luke had his eyes closed tight. Gratitude curled warmly in his chest, and Din let it bleed into his voice as he said “You can look. I should have warned you, I’m sorry.”
Luke smiled as he opened his eyes again. “No, you’re fine.”
Din looked at him for a few more moments. “So, why were you up so late?”
Luke shrugged. “Nightmares. I don’t get them all the time, but they can be difficult to handle when I do. My aunt’s tea tends to help. I’m sorry I woke you up, though.”
“I’m not.”
Luke smiled again, and Din couldn’t help but smile back.
They left Peli much happier, after she drank about half the bottle of spotchka on her own, and ready to fleece the Rodian in the cantina out of all of his credits. She had been very impressed with Luke’s story, especially over the fact that someone named “Old Ben” had been a Jedi. Luke had laughed at that, and they had traded a few stories of the old man, who had apparently been something of a hermit.
Out in the market, they handed over what seemed like too many credits for two rented speeders, seeing as it would probably be a day or two for the Razor Crest to be ready to fly again, and they had business to get to. Luke whooped as they raced along the dunes, and Grogu squealed with delight as Din followed hot on Luke’s tail. Too soon, they were coming up to the old Hutt palace, and hopping down off the bikes. As they descended into the bowels of the palace, Din watched as Luke pulled his face into his mask of Jedi calm.
Fennec and Boba were waiting for them when they reached the throne room.
“You know,” Luke said, smirking and glancing around the mostly-empty room, “this is already much better than the last time I was here.”
“Well, Jedi,” Boba drawled, “the last time you were here, you tossed me in a sarlacc pit, so I should hope it’s better than that.”
Luke held up his hands in surrender. “In my defense, it was Han who actually pushed you, not me. Considering he was still blind from the carbonite, I think it’s a little understandable.”
Boba laughed, and Din, whose hand had been inching towards his blaster during this exchange, relaxed slightly.
“Of course it was Solo,” Boba said, getting up and grabbing a bottle from Fennec as he waved them further into the room. “Well, no hard feelings, Jedi. I have a feeling Mando there would gut me if I tried to get my revenge on you, anyway.”
Din let his silence speak for itself. Boba laughed again and toasted him with his glass before throwing back the drink. He held the bottle out to Luke, but he merely held up a hand to demur it, and Boba, glancing at Din again, shrugged.
“Anyway, I didn’t call you here to discuss our past. I got information from a few acquaintances of mine that I thought might interest the two of you.” He gestured for them to follow him and led them down a few twisting tunnels, Fennec following on their heels, until they reached what looked like a control room. It was filled with old computer terminals in various states of disrepair, and a holo display table that had clearly seen better days.
“Damn Hutt didn’t take much care of his tech in the first place,” Boba grunted as he powered one of the less damaged terminals on, “and Fortuna didn’t exactly care about upkeep either. But it should work well enough to show you what I’ve got.”
A holo of a planet suddenly appeared over the display table, one that looked as barren as Tatooine. Fennec stepped forward and swiped through a few controls, spinning the holo till it landed on one of the few points of civilization visible.
“This is Jakku,” she said, “and we’ve gotten word of an Imperial remnant setting up some sort of facility here. We need your help to take it down.”