Chapter Text
“You’re not an easy man to find, Mandalorian,” the young man said as he slid next to the bounty hunter at the bar. “You’d think that people would notice a man in full beskar, and yet, everywhere I go I can’t help but find tongues tied. I wonder how that happens.”
“Beats me, wizard,” the Mandalorian scoffed. His fingers twitched imperceptibly in his gloves, gearing up for whatever this strange young man would throw at him next. “Seems like something you should know.”
“I see that you already know who I am,” the young man said, almost as if he expected the response.
“What kind of hunter would I be if I didn’t?”
The man hummed as he motioned to the bartender for a drink. “ Gar serim, beroya .”
“ Vaabir gar jorhaa'ir Mando'a ?”
“ Ni jorhaa'ir luubid. ”
“How in the hell did you come to learn Mando’a ?” the Mandalorian asked. He finally turned his entire body towards the strange young man and gave him his complete attention.
“I figured if my destiny rested with the fate of Mandalore, I should start learning the language,” the young man replied, face serene as the drink finally appeared on the bar. The fluorescent lighting caught his eyes just so, making his irises nearly glow amid the darkness of his hood. It sent a small shiver across the Mandalorian’s shoulders.
The Mandalorian laughed despite himself, a nervous response. “I don’t know if you know this, but Mandalore’s nothing but glass.”
“Oh, how little you know,” the young man chuckled. “Sir, my name is Luke Skywalker, and I am here to ensure you take your rightful place as the King of Mandalore.”
The Mandalorian snorted loudly, the sound coming through his voice modulator as a crackle. “Because I won the laser sword? Here, you can take it.” He pulled the hilt of the Darksaber off his belt and offered it to Luke, not unlike the way he would offer a piece of ration bar. Truth be told, he valued a ration bar far more than he did the sword – as did most pawn shops across the Outer Rim, apparently.
Luke only gave him a smile as he placed a hand over the Mandalorian’s gloved one. “It can only be you, Din Djarin. Come now, let’s get you going; we’re almost running behind as it is.”
Din paused, the mere mention of his real name nearly knocking him back into the nearest barstool. Even his closest allies hadn’t used his name since that day on Nevarro, and whoever the fuck this guy said he was just used his real name out in a crowded cantina. He slowly dragged his hand from his belt buckle to the blaster in his holster.
“I never gave you my name, wizard . How in the hell…?”
Luke visibly winced. “Oh, I messed it up again. I was supposed to wait until you gave me your name, and it was going to be an entire, y’know, thing . That was very careless of me.”
“You think?” Din spat, choosing not to focus on any of the implications that the wizard’s sheepish admission brought up.
“If you like, we can forget it all and I’ll keep referring to you as ‘Mandalorian’ until you get tired of it.” Luke paused for a moment. “Or better yet, I can keep calling you ‘ beroya ’, see if that gets a rise out of you.”
If Din had his helmet off, Luke might’ve laughed at Din’s expression at that very moment. He wanted to feel angry – betrayed, somehow – and yet this strange young man with the haunting, far away eyes caught him so completely off-guard that he found himself more curious than anything. He needed to know more, wanted to know more despite himself. At that moment, he decided that he’d listen to whatever the hell it was that Luke Sky-whatever had to say – all else failed, he could fight his way out.
He could at least still do that much.
“By the way,” Luke added, “if you brought a ship out here, we can go ahead and scrap it; I somehow doubt whatever you’re flying will be necessary for what we’re doing.”
“What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?” Din spat back.
“The same way I know that in three days’ time, we’re going to be on Tatooine and I’m going to feel very uncomfortable, and I’m willing to put myself through what’s going to happen because you and I have a mission,” Luke said as he straightened himself up to his full height.
“That’s not very compelling, wizard.”
“I tell you what - you’re a man of terms and contracts,” Luke stated. “I’m offering you a job. You hear me out and escort me to Tatooine, and if you’re not convinced that I’m telling you the truth, then you can have my ship with no questions asked. I promise, you won’t find a better deal.”
Din mulled it over. He hated to admit it, but the stupid shuttle he’d stolen off the Imperial freighter a month ago simply wasn’t cutting it anymore. A free ship was nothing to turn his nose up at.
“You’ve got a deal,” Din said as he put out his hand. “Let’s see this ship of yours.”
“Are you going to stop calling me ‘wizard’? I already gave you my name,” Luke huffed, a small smile breaking the monk-like façade. “I thought Mandalorians honored names.”
“’Wizard’ will do just fine until you start talking more,” Din shot back. “We’re alone – so talk.”
Din dropped himself down the overly fancy conference room of some fuck-off large ship that this man in his plain black attire surely wouldn’t be able to afford on his own. He always knew to be cautious, but the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up as Luke guided him to the shipyard from the cantina; he thought at first people wanted to gun for Luke, but once they reached the CR90 Corvette, he realized they wanted to know who had the absolute audacity to bring a Rebel blockade runner to this dirty, backwater planet this far out in the Outer Rim.
He still didn’t discount the possibility that they might come for them later.
“Well, it’s as I said back in the cantina - you’re the heir apparent to the throne of Mandalore, and I’m here to make sure you get it,” Luke said, sitting next to him with the chair turned towards Din’s own seat. “And since you know at least a little something about who I am, you know I wouldn’t be here unless it mattered.”
“Before we begin, will you answer one question?”
“I’m an open book.”
“Do you know who has my son?” Din asked. “When I got wind that some Jedi put out a feeler for me, I got my hopes up that it was the man who took Grogu that day looking for me. If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
A chill filled the air and Din tightened his fingers in the leather of his gloves. He played the events of that day repeatedly in his mind, the image of his son cradled in the arms of the red-haired Jedi that swept in out of nowhere to rescue them all from their certain doom on board Moff Gideon’s ship. Luke seemed uncomfortable.
“I don’t know who he is, but I’m sure he has the right intentions,” Luke began, his eyes cast down. “I feel your baby’s presence in the Force, and I know he’s doing well. His light’s so bright, Din; you should be proud.”
Din inhaled sharply. “You know where he is?” His heart kicked up a furious pace in his chest.
“I can’t pinpoint him like a tracking fob can; I just feel him out there,” said Luke. He seemed disappointed in his own answer. “We’ll find him later, but first, we need to gather our allies and get going; we’re dangerously close to running behind schedule.”
“’Schedule’? What schedule are you talking about?” Din said, his voice straining to remain steady. He just received the first news of his child in a standard month and this over-excited asshole talking about destinies and fates didn’t seem to care. “You’re talking around me. I only agreed to this fool’s errand as far as Tatooine.”
“It’s no fool’s errand, trust me,” Luke shot back as he stood up from the table and started pacing around the conference room, looking for something among his datapads and flimsi maps. “What do you know of Mandalore?”
“I’ve never set foot on the planet. It’s cursed,” Din said flatly. “Anyone who even approaches the planet dies. Mandalorians live in the shadows now because we have no home. My ally says the Empire reduced it to glass.”
“Imperial propaganda, I assure you,” Luke muttered as he dug through his things. “Aha!”
He pulled out a datastick and found the entry port at the holoprojector terminal, plugging it in and typing a few commands. A slowly-rotating, blue-green hologram burst into light in the center of the conference room table. Din studied the unfamiliar surface, looking for anything like a capitol city or even an established space port, but found nothing.
“This is the latest scan of Mandalore’s surface,” said Luke as he typed something at the terminal and enlarged the hologram further. “I sent some probe droids out there, and they confirmed what I felt - Mandalore isn’t a dead planet. It’s nearly teeming with life and it’s ready to accept her ancestral people back.” Luke pointed excitedly at a portion of the projection. “Look, it’s a forest! The texts say that Mandalore’s forests died almost a thousand years ago with the death of the mythosaurs, and now we have full-grown forests and streams. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s lovely,” Din scoffed. “I hardly see what that has to do with me.”
“Din, something shifted in the Force - I can’t tell you what because I don’t really know myself,” Luke said as he slowly made his way back to his chair at Din’s side. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together as though he sought Din’s forgiveness. “But I know this: everything I’ve done so far has led me here, to this moment. We’re on the precipice of something far larger than you or I. The Force guided me here, led me to you, and now I need to take you to where you belong. That’s all I know right now.”
“I don’t belong to any place,” Din snapped. “If you know so much, then you know my covert’s gone and my child…”
“Din, I’m not -“
A pained, sickly look shot across Luke’s face as his focus faded. Din watched as Luke unclasped his hands and brought them up to his face to soothe them over his cheeks. He wondered if Luke had too much to drink and his speech about trees on a dead planet was just the precursor to a horrible hangover.
“You’re not going to hurl on my boots, are you?” Din asked, ready to jump right out of the seat.
“N-no,” Luke ground out. “But I’m going to need you to stay seated.”
“Why?”
“Din, I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen,” Luke gasped. “Trust me, I don’t like it any more than you will.”
“Wizard, what in the hell are you talking about?”
Luke said nothing as he reached his hand towards Din’s wrist, finding the seam of his glove and shoving two fingers into the gap he made; he found Din’s pulse and kept his fingers there. Din tried to pull away, but Luke wouldn’t budge, and Din found himself unable to move as if something else held him to the spot. Din watched in horror as Luke’s head suddenly pitched forward and bowed, his frame slumping down in the seat as though a cruel puppet master cut his strings.
“What the fuck?” Din whispered. He reached out a hand to Luke’s shoulder to shake him awake. “What kind of trick is this?”
Luke’s head slowly rose, his eyes fluttering and mouth slightly ajar. Suddenly, Luke’s eyelids flew open, radiating an eerie blue light that nearly drowned out his pupils as he focused his gaze back to Din. Din tried harder to pull away from Luke’s grip, but his grip cuffed his wrist completely. Luke’s body went rigid in his seat as he slowly rose to standing. Din found himself doing the same.
“Din Djarin, the Once and Future King,” Luke declared, his voice somehow ringing through Din’s head rather than through his ears. It sounded as though another voice spoke over Luke’s own. This man was Luke Skywalker, and yet, was not. “You wield the Darksaber, won in honorable combat, as Kings of Mandalore before you. The Force commands you to seek the Child and save it from its doom, and in doing so, will save the galaxy and reunite your people under your banner. Do you accept your quest?”
“Luke, you’re scaring me,” Din whispered.
“Should you deny your calling, the galaxy will face its darkest days,” something that sounded like Luke droned. “I will show you the consequences of your inaction.”
The scent of charred corpses and blood-turned-rust creeps past the filters of his helmet and fills his nostrils as he comes to, churning his stomach. He pushes himself up from the ground as he struggles to keep from falling over; the shockwaves of the mortars against the walls of whatever shelter he’s in sends bits of debris plinking softly against his armor. He’s scrambling off the ground and taking off into an open area.
He recognizes the bright spire of the Galactic Republic’s Capitol building and knows he’s in Hanna City, but has no memory of arriving on Chandrila. He keeps running, lungs burning with the effort. Artillery rounds continue to rocket over his head, landing somewhere past the Capitol, but he can tell from the rate of fire that they’re bracketing fire to close in on it. He presses forward, past the strewn, ragdoll bodies of civilians and stormtroopers alike.
Suddenly, the world slows even further as though he’s running underwater, past the dead, past the rubble, and speeds up impossibly as he runs up the stairs into the crumbling Capitol building. He enters the primary Senate chamber to find corpses of senators and kings, each slaughtered carelessly. In the center of the chamber lies the body of Senator Leia Organa, still with child. A dark, faceless presence looms over her body. It doesn’t notice Din standing at the doorway. Until it does.
Another flash strikes behind his eyes. He wakes up again as he stands in some dark laboratory, the astringent in the air making him feel ill. He looks around until he sees the silhouette of his son suspended in some fluid-filled tank, an endless amount of tubes piercing his little, fragile body. His child sleeps in his little prison, completely alone and only clinging onto a thread of life. He feels the vibrations in his throat as he screams and screams with nothing leaving his mouth.
“Din Djarin, you can prevent this tragedy. Seek the Child, seize your throne, save the galaxy,” the voice says, echoing over his perception. “Follow the Light and let it guide you forward.”
The vision left as quickly as it arrived, and it left Din with his chest heaving and sweat dripping down his neck. He felt his legs go out from under him as he fell to his knees before Luke. The Jedi did not move, his fingers still on Din’s wrist.
“This is the future?” he shuddered, voice shaking through the modulator. No matter how many battlefields he stormed across in his life, no amount of fighting ever made looking at mutilated bodies easier. Nothing would ever prepare him for seeing his… his child looking like that.
“Not unless you fail to take your rightful place and bring balance to the Force,” the voice said. “You will not be alone in your journey. You will have many allies that will look to you for leadership and follow you into war. You will also have Luke Skywalker, the last and strongest of the Jedi, at your side as both guide and First Knight. Do you accept your quest?”
“I accept,” Din said, his breath ragged and harsh. He had no choice. “I will take your quest.”
Luke’s hand reached out and caught the Darksaber as it flew from Din’s belt. He ignited the blade and held it above Din’s left shoulder. He moved it in an arc above Din’s helmet and repeated the gesture above his right shoulder. “Rise, Mand’alor the Triumphant,” his voice rang out. “The Force is with you.” Luke’s hand extinguished the saber while the other pulled against Din’s wrist in a bid for him to rise from his position.
As soon as Din stood up, the light in Luke’s eyes dissipated and the young man collapsed in Din’s arms. Din caught him, keeping Luke’s body from crashing into the ground at full force. He stood him up and watched his head loll to the side, eyes fluttering and fighting to stay open. When they finally opened, Din felt a strange wave of relief as Luke’s eyes returned to their natural state.
“Luke, are you alright?” Din asked as he moved Luke to a nearby chair.
Luke’s eyes blinked open as he clutched his stomach. “I feel like a speeder just ran me over,” he gritted out. “I hate that so much. How are you doing?”
“I feel only about half as bad as you look,” Din said, not leaving until he was sure Luke could sit upright on his own. “Stay there, I’ll get some water.”
Luke mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as he laid his head on the table and curled his arms around his face to block out the light. He walked to the galley of the ship and poured a small glass of water for himself, quickly downing it before grabbing another glass for Luke.
When he returned, the young man remained in the place he’d left him. He set the water down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, you still alive?” Din asked, half-joking.
“Barely,” Luke groaned as he reached for the glass. “Thank you. I’m sorry about freaking you out; it’s not easy for me, either.”
“Were you conscious for… for whatever that was?” Din took his seat next to Luke at the table. “It seemed like you weren’t exactly you – unless you have a penchant for referring to yourself in the third person.”
Luke gave him a small chuckle as he took small sips of the water. “I was fully aware of what was happening, but I had no control over it,” he explained. “That was the living embodiment of the Force – the spiritual connection that flows through all of us and binds us as living creatures together. Most Force-sensitives can only draw upon the Force to manipulate the physical world, some can manipulate minds, and the best of us can pull the energy from around us to create other kinds of energy. There’s no word for what I do, though.” He paused to down the rest of the water. “It’s something that makes me unique, I guess.”
“Does the Force do that to you all the time, or just when it’s a great time to scare the shit out of me?” Din said with a bit of a chuff, hoping to ease the tension in the room.
Luke gave him a gentle smile – it was likely the best he could pull off, given the circumstances. “Only when the Force deems it important; it doesn’t happen a lot, but I guess you just bring it out of me.” He laughed and slowly stood up to go to the galley. “I’m going to get some more water – would you like anything else while I’m up?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Din said as he carefully watched the man teeter back to the galley.
“And hey, not for nothing,” Luke said as he stopped to clutch at the door jamb, “I finally got you to use my name.”
“Yeah, you may come to regret that,” Din shot back.
“Doubtful,” Luke retorted as he hobbled off.
Once Luke returned with another glass of water, Din guided him over to a chair and checked him over again to make sure some semblance of color returned to his cheeks and the focus returned to his eyes. Luke started laughing quietly as Din tore off a glove and put the back of his hand at Luke’s forehead.
“I thought you hated me, and now look at you,” Luke said around his glass.
Din snorted. “I didn’t appreciate you talking over my head and hustling me along, but I’m willing to forgive you after whatever the hell that was,” he said as he touched at Luke’s lymph nodes. “If I had some… strange, cosmic being in my head all the time, I’d be just as weird as you are.”
Luke slightly leaned into the touch. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it right now,” Din said. “We’ll talk more about it when we get off this shithole planet. Right now, can you help me get this thing into orbit? I don’t want to sleep terrestrial if we can help it.”
“What, can’t fly a Corvette-class on your own?” Luke said, a tired laugh behind it.
Din paused. “You can?”
“I can fly anything - it’ll be a lot easier with your help, but yeah, I flew this here all the way from Chandrila.”
Din’s hands fell away from Luke’s throat as he tilted his helmet. “I don’t know how else to ask this: what kind of monster are you?”
“You’re a man that blew up a massive krayt dragon, and you’re asking me about monsters?” Luke said.
“How in the hell…?”
“Right, we’ll talk about that later.”