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The thump of boots and the click of heels echoed off the columns of the lower wards. Puddles of water were scattered down the street, reflecting the structure overhead that made up the upper level of the ringworld Glavis. “Turn here.” Came the low gruff voice with a slight electronic distortion. “You’re making a mistake Mando. If it's credits you want I can easily pay you more than the bounty.” The light blue twi’lek woman stopped at the corner and turned to face the hunter. “Or perhaps we can work out another kind of deal…” With her hands cuffed in front of her she made to straighten out the long white well fitting dress at the hips. She looked down with dark blue eyes at the emotionless helmet. Easily a head taller than him with her natural height and the boost of the heels. She flashed a coy smile. “I know you Mandalorians can get so lonely…” She let the sentence hang, trying to gauge her chances of getting out of this situation. The Mandalorian grabbed her upper arm and spun her back around and with a small shove. “Move.”
The new street was lit by a lone moon on a starfield that the station orbited around, it's cold glow casting harsh shadows. At the end of the short street perched on the edge of the station sat the Razor Crest, brilliant in the light. As the pair approached the gang plank lowered, opening up into the cargo hold, and standing at the top of the ramp ears alert was the Mandalorian’s child.
The twi’lek let out a gasp of astonishment at seeing the tiny thing, she leaned forward a bit to get a better look at the small creature, she spun back around to her captor. “Is that another one of your bounties or is it a pet?” The child cooed and tilted his head. “Something like that.” Was the cool response. “It’s so ugly, it’s almost cute.” She teased.
The Mandalorian snatched her upper arm roughly and squeezed tightly. “Move.” was the low command. “Oh…” She chuckled, Her eyes flicked up looking over his head for just an instant. “Did I hit a soft spot calling your pet ugly…” He shoved her up the ramp with a growl. She nearly fell to her knees in her heels and restrictive dress. The child moved to the side to let them pass, watching the woman put up a small struggle. The Mandalorian jerked her to a halt in front of the carbonite freezing system. She chuckled again “Looks like I'm too tall for your little freezer…” Her eyes flicked out of the cargo hold. “I’ll make…” He cut himself off.
The Child’s alarmed shriek snapped the Mandalorian's attention away from the twi’lek, whipping his head around in the direction of the cry he saw the child running away, then the massive dark red devaronian running up the ramp. Bloodied and one of his long curled horns splintered off at the base and a second later being tackled to the floor.
“Run!” shouted the devaronian over his shoulder as he grappled with the man beneath him. “I’ll finish what this puny bastard started!” The twi’lek bolted from the cargo hold, not needing to be told twice. She stumbled in her heels part way down the ramp and fell hard, her face meeting the cold ground with a thwack.
Kriff! Din thought he had killed this bodyguard, or at the very least left him incapacitated after having detonated one of this explosives in the alien’s face. He had come at him hard in the foyer leading to the target’s office. Knowing how strong and resilient this species was after a close call with one several months ago. Apparently not hard enough…
Pinned to the floor Din jerked his head to the side to avoid a punch. Grunting with effort he managed to leverage himself off his right arm and grab his blaster, quickly firing a shot in the devaronian’s thigh. The alien howled in pain and grabbed him by the collar of his cloak and hurled him clear out of the ship like a ragdoll. Din landed hard on his head and neck, the clang and scraping of beskar on the metal ground ringing in his ears, breath knocked out of him.
The twi’lek was picking herself up from the ground with blood running freely from her split lower lip. Pushing up awkwardly with her cuffed hands she regained her feet and tried to run with one heel missing. She staggered a few steps trying to kick loose both of the shoes, free of both of them she broke into a dead run barefoot.
Din, lying on his back where he had landed, rolled to his side and pulled a gasping breath. Clearing his double vision of the woman and leveled his blaster and fired twice. Both shots striking her in the back, she yelped as she fell dead to the cold metal structure of the station.
Din’s blood ran cold, the terrified high pitched scream of his child echoed out of the cargo hold and off the surrounding substrata. “Ad’ika!” Din leapt to his feet and made to move to the Crest then froze in place, mid stride at the sight at the top of the ramp.
The devaronian’s large clawed hands held the squirming crying child, nearly engulfing the tiny body. He let out a low chuckle “looks like I get to kill your pet along with you,” The yellow eyes of the devaronian looked to the still body of the twi’lek, with the twin smoking wounds. “Only fair after you killed my boss…” He leveled his gaze on the Mandalorian.
“Leave the child out of this!” Din yelled. He slowly held his hands up, finger off the trigger of the blaster as a sign of surrender. He took a steadying breath and calmed his voice. “We can work something out. There's a small fortune in weapons and equipment on the ship, take whatever you want. Just don’t hurt the child.”
The devaronian moved a hand to the child's left ear running the soft cartilage between his sharp claws of his thumb and index finger. “I think not Mando… I’ll have it all anyway when I kill you.” The child screamed as the devaronian sliced his claws through the delicate ear splitting it nearly in half.
A concussion of invisible force, thunder without sound, threw the devaronian head over heels out of the ship. The shockwave radiating out, slamming Din to the ground, his blaster knocked free of his grip. He groaned in pain, a deafening single note rang in his ears and his joints ached. He got to his hands and knees and shook his head trying to clear the ringing in his ears. He looked to the Crest, Grogu sat at the top of the ramp crying, holding his torn ear, blood trickling between his tiny fingers and onto his robes.
The devaronian was staggering back onto his feet, a hand clutched to the base of his second now second shattered horn. Blood oozed from the jagged base and down his face obscuring the sight of one eye.
Din blindsided him with a tackle taking them both to the ground. “You could have walked away!” Din roared, straddling the devaronian’s chest and punching him in the jaw “But you chose to hurt my child!” Another punch driving home the message. “I’m going to kill you for it!” Punching again, his vambrace laid the flesh open on to the bone.
The devaronian chuckled through his bloody broken face. “My turn.” In an instant both of the devaronian’s hands were around Din’s neck and the massive alien had rolled them switching positions.
Din reached for his blaster, the empty holster was all his fingers felt. Kriff! The clawed hands squeezed tighter around his neck. Din tried to buck his hips and arch his back to throw the larger alien off balance. The devaronian shifted his weight and brought a leg under himself and stood bringing the struggling Mandalorian up with him.
Din’s body thrashed as he lost all contact with the ground. The grip tightened more… He tucked his right leg, bringing it close enough for his right hand to reach the vibroblade in his boot. His vision was shrinking ever more rapidly, darkening at the edges and moving inwards. He tried to pull breath after breath to no avail. PANIC. He slashed wildly at the throat of the devaronian, but his arms were too short to reach the delicate vein. Tighter. His thrashing slowed down, not much more than erratic involuntary jerks. A gravelly voice reached his nearly dark mind “Maybe I’ll keep it as a pet…”
The voice triggered a clear thought in the blackness. He slashed the muscles and tendons at the elbow joint on the left arm. The arm buckled with no tension keeping it out straight, Din fell into the devaronian’s chest and buried the knife to the hilt in the crook of the beast’s neck.
Din fell to the ground gasping, pulling desperate labored breaths, the edges of his mind and vision lighting up again. He heard the devaronian’s wet breathing overhead, and his child's crying in the background.
Abruptly his breath was knocked out of him in a whoosh as the alien stepped on his chest and leaned his weight onto it. A strangled surprised grunt escaped Din’s lips as he saw the beast pull the knife from his neck with his right hand. The devaronian smiled down at him, strings of blood falling from his ruined face, splattering against Din’s helmet. “You missed.” Then with a sharp trust buried the blade between Din’s ribs on his left side. He tried to scream with what little air was left to him, it came out as little more than a strained groan. The devaronian pressed his boot harder down onto the helpless man's chest. Din weakly grabbed at the boot trying in vain to dislodge it.
“More than one way to kill a puny mand~” His sentence was cut short. Yellow eyes bulged and rolled in a confused panic. His clawed hands flew to his neck wildly scratching as if trying to get something off. He opened and closed his mouth in a desperate attempt to breathe. The devaronian’s feet lifted from the ground by a few inches and he began to trash. A sharp crack and the body went still and fell to the floor in a pile. Din stared stunned, his brain not quite putting everything together till the body hit the ground beside him.
Silence.
He looked back to the Crest and Grogu lowered his tiny green hand. The child's look of determination dissolved into fear and the tiny body started to tremble. The front of his tunic stained with blood from his torn ear.
“Ad’ika…” He called as gently as he could though the pain. The tiny child cried out and ran down the ramp as fast as he could to his father. Din gingerly rolled from his back to his right side trying not to jostle the knife still embedded in his ribs. Grogu latched onto the cowl of his cloak and buried his face crying. “Ad’ika… we’re ok… we’re ok…” He tried to comfort his son but couldn't catch his breath, he swallowed down the taste of blood in his mouth. “We need to get out of here…” He could feel blood slowly saturating his left side. He forced himself to remain calm, but between his and Grogu’s injuries and the distress of the kid it was proving hard to do.
“Grogu… let go, I need to get up… not safe here…” The little hands clung tighter. Din brought his hand to his neck and worked his little claws out of the fabric and scooted the child out of the way. “Ad’ika… we’ll be ok…”
It was hard to speak past the pain in his neck from being strangled and the sharp pain in his side. He tried to take a few deep breaths, steeling himself for the pain he was about to inflict on himself. He got up on his hands and knees with a grunt, the blade shifting slightly. Panting for breath he staggered up the rest of the way to his feet. He gingerly clutched his right hand to his left side trying to stabilize the blade.
It was quiet other than Din’s shallow labored breathing distorted even more so by the helmet. He looked down at his child who stood silent and was visibly trembling at the sight of the dead devaronian. “Ad’ika… come on, we need to go.” The child didn’t seem to hear him and continued to stare at the body. Din squatted down trying to keep his torso as straight as possible to keep the blade from shifting. He grabbed his blaster and holstered it. He reached his right hand out to scooped up the child who startled and cried out, shying from his hand.
Shit… he cursed to himself in his head. This wasn’t good, Grogu was going into shock. They needed to get to safety and he needed to treat both of their injuries before he could even begin to tackle this.
“Grogu…” He tried again and offered his hand, twitching his fingers in a signal to come. The child grabbed his thumb with both tiny tri-digit hands. Din closed his fingers into the baggy tunic and pulled him close, careful to avoid rubbing the damaged ear against his armor and stood back up. The motion took his breath away leaving him gasping in pain as the blade shifted.
He steadied himself, the edge of his vision going white from pain. He walked slowly to the twi’lek laying face down on the ground. And pulled the fob out from his belt with his left hand and held it out over the body. The blinking red light turned a solid green. He turned back to the Razor Crest, careful to keep his left arm from bumping the blade.
Din set the child down on the edge of the bunk. Grogu kept his eyes cast down, silent and trembling. Shit… “Ad’ika, we’re ok… we’re safe now.” He rubbed a tiny green hand between his gloved fingers as he spoke. There was no response from the child. “Sit tight, I’ll be right back.” He went to the ladder and gritted his teeth, Kriff, this was going to hurt. He grabbed the rung with his right hand and scaled it one handed.
Din reached the top of the ladder and crawled to the floor panting. No matter how much he tried he couldn’t catch his breath, the relief of a deep breath just out of reach. He crawled to the console and pulled himself up, remaining on his knees. He didn’t trust himself to get in and out of the chair. He flipped switches and imputed coordinates into the navigation. The engines roared to life as he pushed the throttle lever forward and toggled on the autopilot. The Razor Crest lifted from the station and faced out to the open starfield.
Din leaned heavily on the console focusing on breathing, the adrenaline was starting to wear off. It was the only thing keeping him up right at the moment. He was sure he had a collapsed lung. He looked at his side, the black knife handle stood out against the blood soaked leather. The blood trailed down his side to the beskar plate that protected his hip, the bright crimson stark against the silver metal. A wave of nausea washed over him knowing what lay in store. The Crest cleared the airspace of Glavis and Din slid the control forward. The stars elongated then blurred into a soft blue and white glow, illuminating the cabin.
Din removed his helmet with his right hand and let it clatter to the cockpit floor and panted a sigh of relief, safe . His hair clung to his sweat soaked brow, blood trickled from his nose. Pivoting on his knees he followed the trail of blood back to the ladder. Din maneuvered himself back on the ladder without blacking out from the sharp pain when he twisted. Gingerly he climbed down to the cargo hold.
Reaching the bottom of the ladder he rested his brow on the cold metal rung, he couldn't stop himself from taking sharp gasping breaths. The adrenaline finally wore off, leaving him naked to the full force of the pain. He tried to stifle a pained cry to limited effect.
Haalur… Haalur… Haalur… He chanted to himself trying to keep the darkness at the edge of his mind at bay. He took a faltering step to the locker, catching himself on the doors. He opened it and pulled out the emergency med kit and dropped it to the floor. He leaned his right side against the wall and slid down to the floor no longer able to stand.
He opened the kit with his right hand and pulled all the trays out to see everything. The little slot that normally held bacta was empty. Dank ferrik . His hand started to tremble while he felt around in the bottom of the box. Kriff! Where the hell was it! He broke out into a cold sweat. Finally he realized he still had his glove on. He brought the hand to his mouth and pulled it off with his teeth. He plunged the hand back into the box. Frantically rummaging for the pain killer injection he was sure was in there. His fingers closed around the small cylinder. He pulled it out and yanked the cap free with his teeth and spat it to the side. He stabbed it into the side of his right thigh and held it there as the auto injector pushed the drug into his leg.
Din’s head rolled back and rested against the wall, still pulling labored breaths. He tossed the empty injector pen to the side after it had finished. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard tasting blood, and waited for the drug to circulate through his system and bring him some relief. He lay there propped up against the wall for a few minutes. Resisting passing out by focusing on steading his breath while the drug started to take effect.
He half opened his eyes as the jagged edge of the pain was slowly blunted, and lolled his head to the side to look at Grogu. The child had not moved an inch. His large brown eyes were glassed over not seeing anything. Silent tears ran down his little green cheeks. His tiny blood covered hands worried at the fabric of his stained robe. And his tattered ear hung limply at an unnatural angle.
Din tried to speak but couldn't pass the lump in his throat. He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to work. “Ad’ika…” he called hoarsely. No response. He tried again. “Ad’ika.” he managed to get out a bit louder and clearer. Nothing still. “Grogu!” he shouted. The child jumped and gave a startled whimper.
Finally snapped out of his trance the child blinked and looked at his father. His lip quivered and tears started to flow in earnest, but he still made no sound. “Ad’ika,” he soothed “Sorry for shouting,” he took a labored wheezing breath. “But I really need your help.” The child started to cry as he climbed down from the bunk and to his father’s side.
I need to keep his mind focused on a task, so he doesn’t lapse back into shock. He thought to himself. Grogu being able to heal his wound wasn’t an option. Not in his current state of distress, it would be cruel to even ask.
He grabbed the thick stack of gauze from the med kit and set it at his left hip. Din took his child’s tiny hand, covered in dried blood between his thumb and index finger. He rubbed his thumb over the back of the hand. “I need you to be strong for me,” he started. “Can you hold the gauze over the cut when I pull the knife out?” Grogu sniffled back his tears and nodded.
“Ok, move over to my other side.” Grogu did as he was told. “Now grab a big handful of gauze,” The child gathered up a wad of the fabric with both little hands. “Good,” He gasped through a stab of pain then continued. “When I pull the knife out I need you to push the gauze as hard as you can against the hole and keep it there.” The child nodded, tiny tears rolled down his cheeks.
Din shifted to a better position to have better access to the knife with his right hand. “You ready?” The child nodded and clutched the handful of gauze tighter. “Ok… Here we go…” Din lifted his left arm out of the way and wrapped his right hand tightly around the handle. He took several quick steeling breaths then squeezed his eyes shut and yanked the blade free. “AHHH!!!” Din’s scream echoed off the metal walls of the small cargo hold.
Blood immediately welled up from the hole, no longer stymied by the blade. Grogu promptly shoved both hands filled with gauze onto the wound and pressed as hard as he could. Din threw his head back against the cool metal wall and panted heavily. A twisted form of half relief washing over him. Each breath was no longer punctuated with a shifting blade against rib bones anymore. He was able to take deeper breaths, but still not as much as he would normally. That confirmed it, punctured lung, dank ferrik... The overall pain had dropped to a much more tolerable level, his hands stopped trembling.
Grogu held fast at his father’s side with the gauze as Din collected himself. “Good job ad’ika,” The voice was nowhere near as labored, but it was still hoarse from being strangled. “Keep it up, the blood needs to clot so it will stop bleeding.” Hopefully this is the last time I end up stabbed with my own blade… Din tossed the knife to the side.
He started digging around in the med kit again and fished out a bottle of iodine and set it by Grogu. The child looked at it. “That's for the next thing we have to do.” He went back to the kit and pulled out 4 paper packets and set them to the side. He grabbed a tube that was nearly empty and checked the label. ‘Lidocaine Topical Anesthetic’. I’ll save this for the kid’s ear . He added the tube to the paper packets. He looked down at his child, focused on his task, his cheeks had dried. Even through the dulled pain he could feel how hard Grogu was pressing into his side. His lip quirked into a smile.
“You’re doing great, I think that's long enough.” Din brought his right hand to Grogu’s and guided him at pulling the partially soaked gauze away from his side. The wound had stopped bleeding.
Din started to remove his armor, he needed better access to the wound for the next step. He pulled the remaining glove off and removed the gauntlets tossing them all to the side. He reached under the top edge of the chest plate and undid the cloak and pulled it off from around his neck. He then leaned forward off the wall and sucked in a breath and worked at pulling the leather over shirt and beskar off over his head. He struggled with it, his left side protesting at the movement and flexing. It cleared his head and he heaved it off unceremoniously to the floor. The pain in his side flared back up at the strain and the wound started to trickle blood again into the black long sleeve under shirt.
Grogu saw it and grabbed fresh gauze and moved to the wound. Din stopped him, “Just a second, I still need to get the undershirt off.” Again he worked at getting the clothing over his head adding it to the rest of the discarded armor. “Ok, go ahead.” Grogu applied pressure back to the weeping wound. The cool air of the cargo hold washed over his flushed sweaty skin helping clear his head.
Din grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a few gauze pads and soaked the fabric in the fluid. He scrubbed at his fingers and hands removing most of the blood on them. Tossing the red fabric into the growing pile of other soiled gauze. He grabbed more and repeated soaking the squares in the alcohol. “Grogu, that’s good enough, here give me your hands.” The child held them up still holding the bloodied squares. “You can drop those.” he did as he was told. Din scrubbed the two small hands removing all the blood. The child turned his face away from the strong smell so close to his face. “I know it smells bad bud, but I need your hands clean for the next part.”
Din, now satisfied with the job. “Let your hands dry but don’t touch anything.” He grabbed two of the paper packets and opened them one at a time, one revealing a curved needle and the other a coil of black thread.
Din picked up the needle and one end of the suture thread and held it before Grogu. “I need you to put this string through the tiny hole on the needle. I can’t see it,” he lied. “Can you do that for me?” The child reached out and took the items and examined them.
Din grabbed the iodine and gauze saturating it and looked down to his side. There was a grizzly bruise radiating out from the puncture. It was near black at the epicenter and ranged though other colors to a sickly yellow at the edge. Over top of the bruise was a coat of smeared blood that had dried to his side. He gingerly started working the iodine soaked square around the hole, sterilizing the immediate area in prep for the stitches.
Grogu held up his hand with the needle threaded. “Thank you ad’ika. You’re being so strong.” Din took it. “Grab some more gauze and I need you to clean away any new blood so I can see what I’m doing.” He shifted his position back up against the wall. “Ready?” Grogu moved closer holding the gauze.
Din took a fortifying breath and pressed the needle into one side of the hole and across the gap and up from the other side. He drew the length of thread through feeling the drag of it in the flesh. He pursed his lips with a controlled stained exhale. He looped the needle around the thread forming a knot and then pulled the thread taught drawing the two halves of the wound snug together. First stitch done. Grogu dabbed at the wound when it trickled fresh blood. “Thank you ad’ika, you're doing great.”
Din went back to work, repeating the threading, looping, knotting and drawing closed. He paused more than what was actually needed to let Grogu dab away the little bit of blood that appeared as he worked. Whatever it took to keep him from going back into shock . He worked all the way down the puncture till it was snuggly sealed and air tight. His body should reabsorb any loose air and blood left in the cavity. As it did his lung should expand back to normal. The last stitch finished he grabbed the offending knife and cut the thread.
He discarded the needle and thread into the trash pile then pulled out a large adhesive bandage and a tube of antiseptic ointment from the med kit. He gently applied the ointment to the stitches with a finger then covered it all with the bandage. Done .
Din sighed and sagged against the wall the ordeal over. Grogu stared up at him, worrying his robe in his hands, the one ear still hanging limply. “I’m ok Grogu, you don’t need to worry about me now,” Din pushed himself up from the floor using the wall for support and got to his feet. His legs felt weak and trembled under his weight but held. “I need to patch you up.”
Din set to work pulling a long storage container from the wall so he’d have room to work. Out of the pantry locker he pulled out a metal pot and a single burner gas stove and put them on the far end of the makeshift table. He returned to the pantry and grabbed a jug of water and poured it into the pot. He tried lighting the stove and after a few attempts the flame caught and he set the pot on it and adjusted the flame. Din went to the cubby that doubled as a restroom and pulled a few clean washcloths and a towel from the shelf and bar of soap, depositing everything on the crate.
Din kneeled down clutching at his side panting at the makeshift table and gestured to Grogu. “Ad’ika, your turn.” The child stepped forward but didn’t reach up or make eye contact. Din picked him up and set him on the table. The sight before him made his heart ache, his poor little boy was scared and hurt.
Din brought his hand up to the torn ear but before he made contact Grogu shied away and started to tremble again. “Ad’ika… I’m so sorry.” He picked up the lidocaine tube and grabbed a washcloth and squeezed out the pink gel onto the corner. Din leaned down bringing his face close catching the child’s eye. “Can you be strong for me again?” He held his gaze till he saw a small nod.
Din reached out again, the child squeezed his eyes shut. As gently as possible Din touched the gel to the raw tear. Grogu whimpered and tears welled up from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Din took care to cover both edges of the wound with a coat of the pink numbing gel. “There we go,” The child opened his eyes. “Here in a minute you won’t feel it at all.”
Din checked the pot of water, vapor rose from the surface. He dipped his index finger into it, checking the temperature, perfect. He pulled the pot from the burner and set it aside. “Let me see your ear, it should be numb.” Din reached out and Grogu stiffened expecting it to hurt when his father’s fingers touched the ear, but no pain came. “See, I told you it would make the pain go away.” He rubbed the edge of the flap between his fingers.
“Lift up your arms.” Din pulled the bloodied robe over his child’s head, careful to not jostle the damaged ear further. He tossed the robe in the pile with his armor on the floor, it was all going to need a thorough cleaning. He examined Grogu’s small body for more wounds, finding only a few tender bruises.
Din grabbed a clean washcloth and dunked it in the hot water and lathered the bar of soap into it. He went to work washing the child and took special care removing all the dried blood from the tattered ear. He tossed the dirty cloth with the rest of the laundry. Getting a fresh cloth he soaked it in the hot water and wiped away all the soapy residue, rinsing him.
Din wrapped Grogu up in the towel and scooted him near the burner to keep him warm while he dried off in the chilly cargo hold. He stood too quickly and gasped while the pain eased. Continuing to the locker that held their clothes and grabbed a small dark gray tunic from the top shelf. It was made from the same material as his cloak. He closed the locker and knelt in front of the med kit and rounded up the items he needed to stitch his child’s ear back together. He looked at Grogu sitting quietly, just staring into the blue ring of fire from the burner. Din could see him shivering… or was he trembling again… He set all the items on the container and kneeled down in front of his child and called to him softly.
“Ad’ika…” The child tilted his good ear in Din’s direction but made no other indication of hearing his father. “I need to stitch your ear.” Grogu’s lower lip quivered. “You’ll be ok, I promise it won’t hurt. I know it looks scary.” Din scooted the child away from the burner and shut it off. He left him wrapped in the towel and prepped the tear with iodine. As he let that dry he opened the packs to the needle and suture thread. He threaded the needle, the child didn’t seem to notice the act.
“Be strong for me just a bit longer.” Din took a steadying breath as he positioned the needle next to the ear. Grogu squeezed his eyes shut. Din pushed the needle into the soft cartilage and across the back to the other side and back through. He pulled the length of the thread through, made a quick knot and snugged it up bringing the two edges neatly together. Grogu silently cried, tears running down his cheeks. “You’re doing great,” He soothed in a soft voice. “Just a few more minutes and I’ll be done.” He worked swiftly down the tear bringing the edges together.
Din’s hands froze mid stitch at the bottom of the ear. NO… Din was hit with a wave of nausea that washed over him. The two edges didn’t match and wouldn’t come together. There was a small piece of cartilage missing from his ear on the bottom edge leaving a small triangular notch. His perfect little green son would have a life long scar.
His eyes stung and he blinked at the sensation trying to hold it back. “I… I'am so sorry…” His voice low and wavering “That I failed to protect you.” Grogu didn’t hear him still silently crying to himself. Din just stared at the notch, not wanting to cut the thread. That by not doing so there was still a way to fix it. He looked at how distraught his son was and cut it. Evidence of his failure to protect his child in the little ear notch for all the galaxy to see.
He wiped away the trickle of blood from the ear and applied more of the numbing gel and an antiseptic ointment. There was no way to bandage the ear so it was left as is. He unwrapped his child from the towel and guided his head and arms into the little dark gray tunic.
Din scooped up his crying child and cradled him to his neck, little green arms wrapped around him. “It’s all over, we’re ok.” The child buried his face into his father’s neck and sobbed, his cries filling the cargo hold. It was the first real noise he had made since they fled Glavis in a bloody panic. Din clutched the shaking little body closer resting his cheek on top of the child’s head, squeezing his eyes shut as they teared up. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry... I’m so sorry…” He apologized over and over again while he rocked back and forth on the floor.
“Mhi ratiin cuyanir… Mhi ratiin cuyanir… We always survive.” After several minutes the sobs started to quiet down before dying out completely. The child yet again falling back into silent tears. Din rubbed his thumb back and forth across his child's back trying to soothe him.
The child's grip around his neck eventually eased a little. Din pulled back and looked down as best he could at his child. There was a slackness to the child's face, he’d fallen asleep. The poor kid had to be absolutely exhausted after having used his powers and then the compounding events of the day on top of it.
Din himself felt like he had been hit by a speeder… then stabbed… What little bit of adrenaline he had mustered to stay upright to tend to his son had fled his body utterly. He kept Grogu cradled up against his neck, not daring to pull him away and wake him. He stood and went to the bunk eyeing it. In the small bunk space there would heat to keep warm from the chilly interior of the rest of the ship. But, there was no way he was crawling into it with the injury he had. And even if he did, come morning, he was going to be feeling even worse. After the painkiller wore off and all his injuries had time to stiffen up overnight. Nope, not the bunk.
He gently shifted his hold on Grogu to his left hand without moving the kid from his current spot tucked up against his neck. With his free right hand he pulled the thin sleeping pad from the bunk, the lightweight blanket and pillow coming along with it. He dragged it to an open spot on the floor and called it good.
Din lowered himself onto the bed in a sitting position. With one hand he removed his boots then struggled with the beskar pants. With a bit of wiggling he managed to kick them off to the side leaving the dark brown cotton pants underneath on.
Grogu shivered against him as Din settled onto his right side. He gently moved the child down off his neck, that was painfully tender, to his chest. The child nuzzled into Din’s bare chest and curled inwards to soak in as much body heat as he could. Tiny little claws anchoring himself in place. After a moment he came to rest with his unhurt ear flush against Din’s skin over his heart. The steady beating of his father’s heart lulling him into deeper sleep. Din pulled the blanket up over them both and curled up as best he could, cocooning his child to keep him warm throughout the long chilly night in the hold. He fell asleep instantly, completely spent.
—
An insistent alarm startled Din awake causing his body to jolt, followed immediately by a hot flare of pain from his left side. Grogu started to cry, scared awake by the sudden activity and noise. He couldn't get his mind to bring things into focus, feeling disconnected from his own body.
Finally his brain registered the crying from the child as his little claws clung to his bare chest. He pulled the blanket back, “You're ok… You're ok…” His voice barely worked out past his strained and bruised throat. He cuddled the child closer, soothing him. Hearing the alert from the cockpit still sounding he staggered to his feet.
Din felt lightheaded and horribly sore, his left side in particular. How long had they slept? Was it ten minutes or ten hours, either way it wasn’t nearly enough. He scaled the ladder one handed and entered the cockpit. Flashing red letters on the nav screen warning of the proximity of the planet.
He looked out the window and the planet took up most of the field of view. It had been awhile since he had been on this planet, it was quiet and remote. A huge ring encompassed the world at an angle giving it an exotic look. The green and blue hues of the world looked inviting with the scattered cloud formations.
He sat down in the chair and moved the child to his lap. Din flipped off the autopilot and grabbed a hold of the controls guiding the ship to the nightside of the planet. He scanned the navigation screen that guided him to the secluded location. Over the spot he set the Razor Crest down in a clearing ringed by towering broad leafed trees. Din powered down the Crest’s systems one by one till the cockpit was quiet.
He sagged back in the chair exhausted just from the little bit of activity. His eyes burned and his head was now pounding from lack of sleep. He rubbed the inside corners of his eyes with a hand trying to ease the burning. Grogu had fallen back asleep and curled up to his torso. Din smiled weakly to himself and curled an arm around the child holding him close. He leaned his head back against the chair and settled in, too tired to go back to bed. His eyes slipped closed and he was out.
—
Grogu woke to his father’s soft snoring overhead. Warm light filtered in through the trees to the cockpit. His little body pressed to his father’s for warmth and security. He turned his face and looked out the cockpit seeing the towering trees and little patches of blue sky peeking between the branches. He didn’t move much not wanting to wake his father who clearly needed the rest. His mind drifted back to the previous day… The pain of his ear being ripped… Immobilizing fear. The ANGER at his father being hurt… All HIS fault…
A short time later Din snorted mid snore and woke himself up. He squinted his eyes and held up a hand shielding his eyes from the bright light. He groaned everything hurt. His mouth was painfully dry and his neck was incredibly stiff after having slept the way he did for several hours. He looked down to his lap, Grogu was still tucked against him… And staring blankly, clearly lost in his own thoughts. At least he’s not crying .
“Ad’ika…” He whispered and put his finger under the tiny chin and tilted the little green face upwards to make eye contact. The large glassed over eyes blinked and focused on his father’s warm brown eyes. “Good morning.” A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. The child averted his eyes after a few moments. “Ad’ika?” His tone concerned, he picked him up from his lap and cradled him against his chest trying to get eye contact. Still the eyes looked anywhere else than at him. Din’s heart twisted at the avoidance. He looked at Grogu’s hurt ear, the stitches looked good. The ear had bruised along the repaired line and had a bit of swelling. But that was to be expected. And the notch… the notch of his failure…
The child started to fuss and struggle wanting down. He’s just fussy because he’s hungry. Din tried to convince himself as an excuse for the child’s behavior. Or maybe he’s angry at me for not protecting him… Taunted the guilty side of his mind.
Din forced himself out of the chair ignoring the painful protest of his wound and slid down the ladder. He set the child down on the crate from the night before and started to gather up some food for a late breakfast. “Ad’ika…” He offered the child a small tin tray that had dehydrated meat, fruit and nuts in it. The child took the tray but gave no eye contact, he set a small tin cup next to Grogu filled with water. Best to just give him some space for a bit…
Din remained standing while they ate in silence, the child picking disinterestedly at his food. Din surveyed the current mess that was the cargo hold. The confined space working overtime as an operating room, kitchen, infirmary and dirty clothes hamper. Definitely need to wash our clothes… Clean up all medical things… Get the blood stains off the floors… Including the ones in the cockpit… Remake the bed… I need to bathe too… Out of the corner of his eye he saw Grogu eat a piece of dried fruit. At least he’s eating.
Din finished his meal and lowered the gangplank letting in the breeze and a bit of light. He walked outside and stepped out onto the grass, flexing his toes into the soft green blades. He breathed as deep as he could manage without upsetting his stitches. The breeze was fresh and cool on his bare chest. He could hear the babble of the stream just beyond the clearing, adding to the peaceful ambiance. A good place to rest and recover.
He went back up the ramp into the cargo hold, the child hadn’t moved and as he walked past him he glanced at the tray of food. There were more missing pieces of food and the water cup was half empty. He rounded up all the bloodied armor, clothing and rags off the floor. And grabbed the laundry bag that was in one of the lockers. Having all the dirty clothes gathered he stood at the top of the ramp. “Grogu, I’m going to go wash all the clothes in the stream just beyond the trees. Stay near the ship and don’t wander off, I’ll be back in a little bit.” The child’s good ear swiveled in his direction as the only form of acknowledgement. Din stood looking at the kid for a long moment before heading down the ramp and then disappearing into the trees.
—
Grogu heard his father leave but continued to stare at his food, it's not that he wasn't hungry but that he had so much on his mind. He finished his cup of water and slid off the crate with his tray of food and moved outside to sit in the sunshine. He sat in a bright sunny spot in the grass just beyond the gangplank and continued his meal.
The grass was a few inches tall but didn’t obstruct his view of the clearing. The blades were much richer in color than his own skin and tiny, even to him, wild flowers dotted the clearing. He soaked in the sun and it’s warmth, letting it try to soothe his mind and body. He angled his good ear in the direction his father had gone. The large ear listened, easily picking up on the noises his father made in the stream scrubbing the bloodied clothes. His fault.
Sometime later he heard his father walking back to the Crest with the clean laundry. He kept his eyes to the ground focusing on a small flower while his father strung up a cable between the Crest and the low branch of a tree. He could see Din hanging the clothes out to dry from the corner of his eye. He would feel his father’s intermittent gaze linger on him while he worked. When Din was done with hanging the clothes he returned to the cargo hold.
Over the next few hours his father predominantly stayed in the Crest cleaning and reorganizing, occasionally looking out to check on him or set a crate outside. The soft flapping of the clothes drew his attention, he could plainly see the hole in the side of the leather armor. Blood was no longer present but the hole in the armor was. His little heart twisted, the same hole was in his father’s chest. His fault.
—
Din had watched the child out of the corner of his eye, so to speak, for most of the day as he busied himself with chores. He knew he was physically overdoing it with his injury but he needed tasks to keep his mind busy… The child had moved a few times throughout the day, always keeping in the sunlight. But still no eye contact or sounds. He did take notice that every time he checked on him the unhurt ear was always directed at him. He even saw the ear follow his movements when he checked the clothes line or set crates out. Hopefully that's a good sign.
Din pulled a fresh change of clothes from the locker and retrieved the soap and a clean washcloth and towel from the cubby. He desperately needed to bathe and wanted to get it done before the sun got too low. He left the Crest and looked around, Grogu had moved again to sit on a rock by the nose of the ship that was in the sunshine, the green ear tracked him. “I’m going to clean myself up, when I get back I'll make dinner.” The ear twitched at his voice. He sighed then headed to the stream.
At the stream he draped the change of clothes along with the towel over a low branch and set the washcloth and soap on a rock edging the water. Din stripped out of his pants and under clothes leaving them on the ground. He waded out into the water up to his waist then submerged himself. The cool water felt great on his battered body. He came back up and started to pick at the corner of the bandage covering his stitches. He got it off and tossed it on the bank. The wound looked ghastly with all the discolored bruising around it but the stitches were still in place and there was no leaking blood. He grabbed the soap and washcloth, lathering it up and gently washed the wound. Satisfied, he continued scrubbing down the rest of himself.
While he bathed his mind wandered, thinking of what had the kid so upset. Obviously he had been scared and then hurt. Normally the child was very resilient in hard situations. But him being physically hurt beyond some bruising was a first. Even when the kid would get roughed up in past scuffles that didn’t seem to phase him all too much. Din lathered his hands with soap then scrubbed his fingers through his hair down to the scalp. He moved lower massaging his throat and neck, rolling his shoulders easing the stiffness. Maybe the kid was upset about him being hurt… He dismissed it, the kid had seen him injured more severely in the past with no issue. He submerged himself again, staying under the water, rinsing his hair.
The devaronian… Grogu had killed the devaronian with his powers… The brief struggle then the loud crack as the neck was snapped... Din abruptly surfaced and ran his hand through his hair slicking it back out of his eyes. KRIFF … He had forgotten about that. Between nearly being strangled to death himself and the knife in his side, the panic to get them to safety…
KRIFF… He waded back to the bank and dried off. Then dressed in the black cotton pants and dark green long sleeve shirt. He rubbed his head with the towel removing the last bit of excess water, then gathered up the rest of his items and returned to the Crest.
The sun was getting low in the sky and all the sunny spots in the clearing were gone. Grogu had moved to the top of the gangplank and was working the silver knob in his tiny hands. He didn't look up, when Din approached but continued to stare at the polished object. He stood at the base of the ramp and watched him. “Ad’ika…” The little green hands paused on the ball. “Do you want to help me build a fire?” No response, and the turning of the object resumed. He sighed and set down the bundle of dirty laundry on the ramp.
Din gathered an armload of dead fall off the ground and brought it to a patch of bare dirt in the clearing. He broke a few branches over his knee before stacking them in a pile. He returned to the ship and retrieved the matches. Kneeling down in front of the stacked wood he lit the match and held it to the small bundle of tender in the center of the pile. He blew gently encouraging the flame to take to the bigger sticks. After a minute the fire flared, catching the larger branches and crackled softly. The side of the Razor Crest glowed a warm orange in the firelight.
Din went back into the trees and got another armload of wood, setting it off to the side for later use. He pulled a crate from the Crest and put it beside the fire. “Ad’ika, come sit by the fire.” The child set the polished ball down and descended the ramp and stood before his father who picked him up and set him on the crate. He still won’t look at me… Din lingered for a moment looking down at his child before returning back to the Crest.
Several minutes later he returned with a metal pot covered with a lid. He kneeled next to the fire and used a stout stick to adjust some of the burning branches and move coals. He nestled the pot in the coals to let dinner simmer. Din looked at Grogu from across the fire, he just stared, the flames reflecting in the shine of his large dark eyes. This can’t wait any longer.
Din moved to the other side of the fire and kneeled in front of his child. “Ad’ika, we need to have a talk.” The child’s ears drooped and his head turned to the side. Din leaned forward bringing his head level with Grogu’s and with a finger tilted the face back to him. Finally eye contact. “Can you be strong for me?” The child looked nervous but nodded. He took a tiny tri-digit hand between his thumb and index finger and held it.
Din took a deep breath and in a sober tone began. “Remember the bad guys that used to hunt you? They wanted you alive to collect on the bounty…” A pained guilty expression ghosted across his face. “The people we come across now aren’t like them… They won’t think twice about hurting you, because you aren’t worth any credits to them.” His expression hardened. “Grogu, they will kill you if given the chance. Do not give them that chance. Never be afraid to use your powers to protect yourself or loved ones, even if it means killing them.” Grogu stared at his father. Bewilderment? Din interpreted the child’s expression. He clarified. “You did nothing wrong killing that man—”
Grogu yanked his hand out of his father’s grasp with an angry grunt and stood up tall on the crate, both ears pinned back. Din was taken aback at the sudden animation and emotion. “Grogu, you did noth—” The child pointed at Din’s side where the knife wound was, then pointed back to himself, prodding his chest. Din’s brows drew in confusion trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Ad’ika–” Again the child cut him off, gesturing to his father’s side and then angrily jabbing himself in the chest with a finger. Din watched the child make the same motions again but this time there were tears shining in his eyes…
Din ventured. “You… You think you’re responsible for me getting hurt?” The child nodded and the little tears that had gathered finally spilled over. He reached for him but Grogu stepped back. “Ad’ika, you saved my life…” After a moment Din’s brows drew in confusion. “Why would you think it's your fault that I got hurt? You did the only thing you could do at the time.” It hit him as he spoke the word. TIME.
“Grogu… are you blaming yourself for not killing that man sooner… Before he stabbed me?” The child let out a pained warbled sound and the look of shame in those large eyes twisted Din’s heart.
“Ad’ika… It wasn't your fault that I got hurt…” Grogu sniffled and wiped at his eyes, but listened. “If… If I hadn't lost my temper…” Din clenched his teeth, recalling the memory. “If… I had just focused on just killing the bastard… Instead of lashing out…” Din ran a hand through his hair and steadied his voice. “By not killing him outright but instead giving into my anger… I gave him the chance to kill me.” He sighed. “And now I have a scar that will remind me of that mistake so I will never make it again.” His right hand went to the wound and pressed down on it making it flare, burning in the lesson.
Grogu reached to the notch on his damaged ear. Din quickly brought his hand up and blocked the child from touching it. “I’m so sorry… That I failed to protect you.” The child huffed and shook his head. He moved to Din who was just above his eye level. The child lightly placed a tri-digit hand to his father’s bruised and discolored neck, warbling a pitiful sound of apology.
Din gathered up the child to his chest and leaned against the crate facing them towards the fire. He held his index finger out to his son who gripped it tightly with both little hands. “Apology accepted.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile. The child cooed in agreement.
The two sat in comfortable silence, each mulling over the conversation in their minds. Din rubbed a thumb over the back of one of the little hands still holding his finger as he thought. It seemed kind of obvious to him now that the kid would not be upset about killing someone. He had watched him nearly choke Cara to death… And he vaguely remembered something about a fire stormtrooper on Navarro... Surely the kid had learned to protect himself over the decade or two he was trafficked around the galaxy. And that would mean having to kill a few no doubt when a life or death situation arose.
“Ad’ika…” The large brown eyes gazed at him. “Don't dwell on what happened yesterday. Instead learn from it. There are many hard lessons you will learn throughout your life. This is one of them, don’t let fear bring you to inaction.” Din half smiled to himself. “And sometimes you’ll get tested on things you’ve already learned... Don’t let your anger cloud your better judgment.” The child gripped his callused trigger finger tighter and cooed.
The simmering noise from the pot caught Din’s attention. “Looks like dinner is ready.” He set the child on the ground and stood up and walked to the Crest. Once he was out of sight Grogu brought a hand up to his tender ear. He squeezed the notch in imitation of his father’s gesture with his own wound. Burning in the lesson. The notch would be his reminder of failing to protect his father.
A few minutes later Din returned with a bowl and spoon. He kneeled next to the fire and removed the pot from the coals and checked the soup. Satisfied with its doneness he spooned the soup into the bowl. Then sat down cross legged with his back up against the crate again. “Come here.” He gestured to his lap with the spoon and the child climbed up and reclined against his father’s belly. He brought the bowl of bean soup in front of the child. It was a medley of several different beans of varying colors, with chunks of cured bantha meat stewed in.
Din scooped up a small amount of beans on the spoon and blew on it, cooling it down. Grogu opened his mouth as the spoon lowered back down to him. The child cleaned the spoon of the beans in a single bite and trilled happily. “Pretty good huh?” Din took another scoop and ate it himself. He fished a piece of meat out of the beans and blew on it before offering it to the child, who already had his mouth open waiting for the next bite. More happy trilling as the child chewed the meat. Din ate the next spoonful. The child’s trilling had picked up into babbling gibberish.
Din didn’t realize how tense his body was till he sighed in relief at hearing his child’s normal sweet line of gibberish. It was a comforting background noise. Like the hum of the Razor Crest’s engines when flying, and not having it meant something was wrong.
Din continued alternating spoonful's of soup between himself and his child. Eventually he offered a spoonful of soup that Grogu didn't open his mouth for but instead turned his head to the side. “All done?” Din ate it himself and finished off the rest of the bowl and set it off to the side.
The fire was burning low now and Grogu yawned from his lap and rubbed his eyes. Din picked him up and cradled him up to his chest. The child nuzzled his face into the soft skin of his father’s neck. Din stood and kicked dirt over the fire snuffing out the flames. Then he entered the Crest and set the child in the bunk to a small protest. “Just a minute I need to bring my armor in off the clothes line.” He disappeared into the dark. Grogu moved further into the bunk by the pillow and waited. His father returned a few minutes later with his dried armor and hung it up on the wall next to the bunk. He hit the button to lift the ramp and seal the ship up for the night.
Din crawled into the bunk and laid down on his right side. Grogu went straight for his favorite sleeping spot, curled up into his father's chest and his face burrowed into the crook of his neck. He pulled the rough spun blanket over them both and settled, getting comfortable. Din kissed the top of his child’s wrinkled little head, “Mhi ratiin cuyanir.” He murmured against his skin as he drifted off to sleep.