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The Return of the Mandalorian to the Book of Boba Fett

Summary:

This is my version of things I wished happened in Episode 5, because I showed up for Boba Fett and Boba Fett did not show up.

Notes:

The stuff I mention for Boba's memories about his past are from Star Wars Legends, not from canon. I really wish they would have had Boba tell Din Djarin all the stuff the Armorer told him about the fall of Mandalore, because at least it would have allowed Boba's story to be told and maybe also advance the actual plot of the Book of Boba Fett to move forward. There's literally nothing she told Mando that Boba would not also know personally because there's so much from the comics and Legends that puts Boba right in the middle of it all (even if briefly). Instead.... Well.... here we are.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Boba Fett greets Din Djarin at the gate of the palace with a helmet-bump and a slap to his shoulder. He can see that the Mandalorian is tired, practically dead on his feet. The fabric of his armor is tattered and ripped in places—especially on his left thigh where he can see the hack-job healing someone did to a burn. He doesn’t walk with the same straight back he did before, like the cosmos has been beating him down since last they were in the same room.

That was a strange day, standing on a Republic platform. Back then, Boba asked Din to come to Tatooine if he wanted. There was always work, he said. But Boba hadn’t thought of how much he would need someone like the Mandalorian when Din said he planned to find the nearest Guild outpost and go back to hunting.

The ship that sits in the hangar is strangely familiar, and Boba can’t quite place where he’s seen it before. Regardless.

“Have you eaten?” Boba asks as they enter the throne room where Drash and Skad are playing some game with a couple of the others. They pause what they are doing and look at Din with a bit of surprise, and before they can say anything, he says, “This is Mando. Mando, this is Drash, Skad, and the rest of the Cybernetic Squad.”

“That’s not what we call ourselves, old man,” Drash snaps.

Din looks at Boba. “Are these your… employees?”

“They are very loyal,” Boba says as he removes his helmet. “I will make sure to introduce you to everyone; I don’t want any incidents.”

“Of course,” Din says as he follows into the large dining room where a buffet has been laid out. He stares at the variety of foods and asks, “Where does this come from?”

Boba looks at the table, almost annoyed. “I honestly don’t know. The droids are on a schedule.”

“I never imagined you to actually live like a king,” Din says with a hint of amusement.

“Oh.” Boba huffs. “Fennec finds it pretty amusing, but there’s a lot of people to feed here. I swear those kids are bottomless pits.”

Din laughs at that.

That’s when Black Krrsantan comes in the room followed by one of the Gamorrean guards. The Wookie eyes Din and makes a deep, rumbling noise.

“You’ve probably heard of Black Krrsantan,” Boba says to Din.

Din nods and says, “I have.” To the Wookie, he says, “Your reputation precedes you.”

Boba gestures to Din and says, “This is Mando. A very good friend of mine. Don’t bother him, understand?”

Black Krrsantan eyes Din again, looks at Boba, and nods. Then he walks around the other side of the table, picks up a whole roasted creature of some sort, and continues on his way to somewhere else in the palace. The Gamorrean picks up a bowl and starts loading it with vegetables and Boba and Din continue through the other side of the room and down a long corridor, moving towards a series of stairs.

“I need to know how you got Black Krrsantan to be part of your crew?” Din says with confusion and a touch of awe.

“He tried to kill me,” Boba says. “As you can see, he failed.”

Din hums a note. “Life debt?”

“No. Unemployed and a bit down on his luck,” Boba answers as they descend the last few stairs to the door leading to the rancor pit. Just as Boba touches the door, the rippling purr of the rancor echoes out.

Dank farrik!” Din shouts. “There’s a karking rancor in there!”

Boba is grinning like a kid. “Yes! And I haven’t named him yet. He imprinted on me. I spend so much time down here, you have no idea.”

“Boba?” Din says with a note of laughter in his voice. “Are you saying that you have a pet rancor?”

Still grinning, unabashed, Boba asks, “Do you want to meet him?”

There is a moment of hesitation where Din stands perfectly still like a beskar statue before saying, “Alright. I’ll meet your pet rancor, Boba.”

The rancor trainer is excited to introduce another Mandalorian to his favorite creature in the universe. Boba walked up to the creature’s face, pressed his forehead between it’s nostrils and whispered, “How’s my big boy? Did you have a good day? Did he eat well?”

“Ate a whole ronto,” the trainer answered. “His appetite is ideal for a calf his age.”

“That’s right! You’re doing so well!” Boba says, and Din just watches until he’s waved over and Boba tells him, “Come on, he won’t bite.”

“That is not what I’ve heard,” Din says.

“It’s better if you remove your helmet,” the trainer says, and Din stops again. “Rancor like to see the faces of their friends.”

Boba holds up a hand and says to the trainer, “It is not necessary for Mando to—”

But Din pops the seals and says, “No, Boba. Things have changed.”

***

“Apostate?” Boba says after listening to Din’s tale of finding his tribe and his subsequent excommunication. He shakes his head. “Sounds like the bastards that exiled me.”

Din stops glaring at his helmet for a moment from where they sit atop the rancor and looks at Boba with a hint of shock. “You were exiled? I thought you never were Mandalorian?”

“It’s a long story,” Boba says with a shrug. “But your tribe was cloistered on Concord Dawn. You must know who the Mandalorian Protectors are?”

“Yes?” Din says. “I thought… That wasn’t your father?”

Boba laughs. “No. That was me. You see, I tried to be Mandalorian. I tried to follow the Way. But I was not welcome on Mandalore because my father was Jango Fett, foundling son of Jaster Mereel. And I am a clone.” He shrugged. “I got out of prison, went to work for Jabba for a while. But I tried to go back to my father’s home. I tried to go to Concord Dawn. I even had a wife and daughter.”

The look on Din’s face is one of terror.

“What happened to your family?” Din asks.

“They were lost,” Boba says in a voice that seems to be swallowed by the air that has left the room. “When I was exiled, Sintas—my wife—she wanted to stay. And we divorced. She relocated to Mandalore to… get away from my past and…”

Boba doesn’t need to finish the story, but he does. He talks about the Purge of Mandalore. How the massive blasts rocked the planet, and Mandalore was destroyed. He knew the stories, saw the footage of the destruction. Saw the names Sintas and Ailyn Vel on the death reports. Billions died, and Boba turned numb after that. He took jobs that sent him into the most dangerous places, after the most dangerous targets, and thus earned his title as the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy—all because he stopped caring if he lived or died. In many ways, the reason he never changed the color of his armor was to honor their memory.

These are things that belonged to his memory, and saying them out loud is not easy, but it is easier sitting on top of a rancor beside Din Djarin.

Boba shrugs and says, “I never bothered with being Mandalorian after that. Nor bothered with family or even friends. Family has always been a very complex problem. The easiest anyone ever made it was the Tuskens, and still...” He frowns. “All these people in this palace—even Krrsantan—I want to protect them. All of them. I want this place to be safe. I want Mos Espa to be safe. I want Tatooine to be safe because this whole damned galaxy has been hell for too long, and people like you and me and those kids up there and even this creature we’re sitting on have been used by the monsters in power, when if we just figured out how to band together, we could stop it.”

Din pats the rancor beneath him and says, “I thought you wanted to take over Jabba’s assets not change the world.”

“Maybe I got ambitious,” Boba says.

Din shakes his head. “Damn you.”

Boba laughs because he doesn’t sound mad; he sounds like he just made a decision. “What’s on your mind, Djarin?”

“I already told Fennec that a job for you is on the house,” Din says. This is a bit of a surprise to Boba. He has to wonder if Din looked at how many credits were in that bag, because it would have bought him another ship—much better than that cramped up starfighter. Din says, “You’ve got my loyalty, Boba. Hell, you’ve had it since Tython. Showing me all this? Your merry band of misfits up there, your rancor down here… Boba, I’m in. Whatever it is, I’m in. I don’t need the details, just point me in a direction. I only have one question.”

“What’s that?” Boba asks almost suppressing a laugh.

“Do you know anyone who knows how to sword fight?”

Boba smiles, his look a little sad. The topic has weighed him down a little, but he nods. “Anything can be found on Tatooine if you know where to look.”

Notes:

Episode 5 pissed me off. Not because it was necessarily bad. It was an *excellent* episode of The Mandalorian.

Like every minute after the first fight, I was like, "Okay, when is Boba or Fennec going to appear. Any second now. Any... second. Any time. Okay... He's been on Tatooine a while now. Okay... Any.... fucking.... second. Peli has to know that Boba is up to some shit, right? She's going to say something? ::checks remaining time:: What the fuck???"

And I don't care how childish I sound. I'm allowed. Boba Fett has been my favorite since I was a kid because I thought he was cool and had the awesome jetpack and helmet and ship, and I always liked villains. And I always loved my clones and then I got really into Legends, and now I'm just agitated.

And I'm dumping all this here so I don't do it to people IRL lol