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“Luke, you need to tell your Mandalorian to stop trolling the Senate.”
“Okay, first of all, he’s not my Mandalorian. And second - what the hell, Leia?”
“Just… Please, tell him to at least try taking the New Republic seriously the next time you two talk.”
“O… kay? I mean, I don’t think an ancient enemy that happens to teach his kid would have any influence over the Mand’alor.”
“Luke, you’re my only hope.”
“This is not as hilarious as you think.”
“Just talk to him.”
------
“Din, whatever you’re doing with the Senate, you need to stop.”
The Mand’alor, currently seated on the marble floor of his throne room with Grogu crawling over his lap doesn’t react. One of his guards, Cassik, on the other hand, visibly tries not to snigger at Luke’s exasperated face. The guards, in general, are mostly here for show and don’t really look very guardy. The whole setup looks more like a cantina, where they just hang out with their king. They are not the only ones. On various occasions, when Luke and Grogu visit Din, there are assorted members of the court chilling out or sparring or goading Din into not doing stupid shit that day with complete disregard to his station.
In the beginning, it wasn’t at all like that. The Mandalorians tried very hard to show Djarin as much respect as possible but someone, at some point, noticed that the more they paid attention to him being their sole ruler, the more difficult he was to wrangle into doing anything regal. Now, after almost five years, Din Djarin was the only sovereign in the galaxy that ruled solely through friendly banter and pretending not to be the one that is supposed to be sitting on the throne.
“Din.”
“I am not doing anything.”
“I really find it hard to believe, considering that both Leia and Mon Mothma comm me at least once a week with the pleas to ask you kindly to stop being a penis.”
“Technically, he’s really not doing anything wrong,” Cassik pipes in. He’s one of Din’s closest, acting as royal guard in the more formal settings, member of his strike team when Din decides that today he feels like fucking some Imp Remnants up personally and his advisor. As far as Luke knows, they’re really good friends.
“Oh? How so?” Luke asks mildly while Din busies himself with entertaining his son.
“The New Republic is trying very hard to push this peace treaty on us. Alor responds to every single message they send.”
Luke glares suspiciously.
“I sense there is more.”
Cassik grins.
“Alor, can we just show him?” he addresses Din, who nods distractedly.
Cassik moves to the side, where some datapads are laid out on a metal bench stylized in the same foreboding manner that the whole throne room carries and brings one to Luke. He turns it on, scrolls for a really long time and hands it to the Jedi. Luke parks himself on a nearby chair and looks through the content.
The first message is from the Senate to the governing body of Mandalore. It’s a standard invitation to begin talks of Mandalore joining the New Republic that Luke has seen many times when a new government is formed or reclaimed from under the imperial remnant’s oppression.
And then there is the reply.
Luke can see where the Senate’s butthurt is coming from.
The document reads:
“By grace of the mighty Mand’alor the Uniter, sole ruler of planet Mandalore, the adjoining planets of Concord Dawn, Krownest, Nevarro, Zanbar and the whole of Mandalorian Space, his Majesty Din Djarin of Clan Djarin, house Djarin, the Dragonslayer, the Uniter, the Scourge of the Empire, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Army, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Fleet, I, Ultur’tisk of Clan Davtero, House Davtero, forward the direct reply of his Majest the Mand’alor to the New Republic’s proposal of a peace treaty.
The mighty Mand’alor the Uniter, sole ruler of planet Mandalore, the adjoining planets of Concord Dawn, Krownest, Nevarro, Zanbar and the whole of Mandalorian Space, his Majesty Din Djarin of Clan Djarin, house Djarin, the Dragonslayer, the Uniter, the Scourge of the Empire, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Army, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Fleet says:
No.
May your strength never waver,
signed,
Ultur’tisk of Clan Davtero, House Davtero,
the Royal Scribe.”
The problem with this is: each reply to an official inquiry such as a treaty or trade proposal is read out loud during a Senate meeting to be discussed and decided upon. Whoever Ultur’tisk is, did not deign to separate the intro into a part that can be skipped, instead effectively making the titles the body of the text.
The Republic’s answer is an inquiry upon the reason for their refusal. Very deliberately formatted in the correct manner. To which Ultur’tisk responds:
“By grace of the mighty Mand’alor the Valiant, sole ruler of planet Mandalore, the adjoining planets of Concord Dawn, Krownest, Nevarro, Zanbar and the whole of Mandalorian Space, his Majesty Din Djarin of Clan Djarin, house Djarin, the Dragonslayer, the Uniter, the Scourge of the Empire, the Child Protector, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Army, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Fleet, I, Ultur’tisk of Clan Davtero, House Davtero, forward the direct reply of his Majest the Mand’alor to the New Republic’s inquiry.
The mighty Mand’alor the Valiant, sole ruler of planet Mandalore, the adjoining planets of Concord Dawn, Krownest, Nevarro, Zanbar and the whole of Mandalorian Space, his Majesty Din Djarin of Clan Djarin, house Djarin, the Dragonslayer, the Uniter, the Scourge of the Empire, the Child Protector, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Army, the Grand General of the United Mandalorian Fleet says:
Not interested.
May your patience persevere,
signed,
Ultur’tisk of Clan Davtero, House Davtero,
the Royal Scribe.”
And here’s where the other shoe drops. As Luke scrolls through the exchange, Ultur’tisk always changes something. Not only does Din’s list of ridiculously pompous titles grow each time, his personal Mand’alor epithet changes each and every time (Luke is pretty sure that Din doesn’t have an official epithet). Which makes the whole thing unskippable in readings. If that part remained the same, after the third answer it could be shortened or passed over altogether. But no. Ultu’tisk is diligently meticulous about not allowing any leeway.
In turn, Din’s part of the reply is always as concise as it can be and generally unhelpful in any political capacity. It’s written exactly like the man talks, with no elaboration or argumentation. Which is a bummer, since once opened, any negotiations must be closed in a correct manner, with precise parameters of the talks ticked off. Apparently, it’s been going on for months now.
“How are you not at war with half the Galaxy by now?” Luke asks after a long moment of doing his best not to suffocate under the strain of internalizing his gleeful admiration for the hilarity of the situation.
“I was told that it’s the magic of politics or some shit,” Din mutters. By this point Grogu managed to rope him and two other Mandos into building a tower of blasters. There are entirely too many to go around for Luke’s comfort.
“Din, you need to stop this. The Senate hates your guts.”
“The Senate can go fuck a Sith for all I care. As long as they don’t let up with their meddling in the Outer Rim, the Free Alliance is not giving them anything.”
“I’m sorry, the what Alliance?”
Din sighs.
“Me and Fett and a few other rulers in the Outer Rim got to talking some time ago. We’re forming an Alliance.”
“ WHAT!? How come I don’t know anything about this?”
“Dunno. I thought you’re not into politics.”
“Din… Does the Republic know this?”
“How the kriff should I know?”
Luke feels faint.
“You’re supposed to announce the rise of a new political structure. It’s called transparency.”
“Never heard of her.”
Luke ignores the giggling Mandalorians.
“How big is this Alliance exactly?” he asks weakly.
Din thinks for a moment, absent-mindedly stacking a blaster cartridge on the side of Grogu’s Tower of Death.
“Some twenty solar systems or so.”
“Force... “
“No forcing. It’s all very civil and voluntary.”
“Din, stop.”
“Make me.”
“You know I could.”
“I know. But you won’t.”
“I hate you.”
“Sure, whatever. Pass me that muffler, will you?”
Luke does. But reluctantly.
He falls silent for a long time.
“What are your terms?” he asks finally, watching the Tower of Death acquire some extensions made of datapads and a bridge based on Din’s ammo belt. He curses himself because he’s roping himself into the peacekeeping business again and he swore he would keep away from that.
“I can have the Free Alliance on the comm conference within the day. There are some key points. The main and non-negotiable being what I said. We don’t want the New Republic messing with our territories.”
“Is it okay if I get Leia on the call as well?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Good… good. I’ll just… go call her. Clue her in.”
Luke doesn’t wait for Din’s reply, which is not forthcoming anyway. His mind is parsecs away as he leaves the throne room.
------
Din is standing by the window of his office, looking out at the city below. He doesn’t react when Bo-Katan stands at his side. Only when she extends her hand, does he take the five credits she hands him.
“Okay, I admit, that was the fastest negotiation process I’ve seen,” she says gruffly, combing her hair with her hand.
“I thought it would take them less time to cave in and send Luke,” Din responds.
“Still, these things sometimes take years, decades even. You instated the Alliance as legitimate and secured more than seventy percent of its demands in less than a year.”
“Let’s just hope that they actually get along.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage the situation,” Bo smiles.
“I’m not managing anything. My job is done.”
“Sure Din, like the Alliance will actually let you wriggle your way out of being the representative.”
“The thing is, the Alliance actually listens when I say I don't want to do shit. Unlike my own kriffing court.”
“Oh, so you volunteered to lead the legalization and negotiations?”
Din scowls.
“I didn’t think Boba would win at arm wrestling.”
Bo-Katan laughs.
“Din, he’s built like an AAT.”
Din grumbles and Bo taps her chin.
“Five more credits say that you won’t get away this time either.”
“You’re on.”