Chapter Text
Bo-Katan sees Din again eight months after he won the Darksaber.
It hasn’t been long, but she’s pulled together what resources she has, with the aid of Koska and Axe. She didn’t become the second-in-command of Death Watch for nothing. But now, with so few allies, it’s a tedious process. They’ve claimed an old base of Pre Vizsla’s from the Clone Wars, a Mandalorian safe house. But even with their location, finding others willing to stand with her isn’t easy. There are still Mandalorians who trust her from her days before the fall of the Empire, but they know she doesn’t have the Darksaber. And if she can’t even fight for a blade, how can she fight for them?
Koska calls her over to their comms late one night. “Someone’s outside. They’re trying to contact us.”
There’s only one person who Bo-Katan shared her location with, for this reason exactly, and she sets her jaw. “Who is it?”
Koska’s expression tells her all she needs to know, and Bo-Katan smiles grimly. “Let’s get this over with.”
She exits the base alone, stepping out onto the rough ground in her armor. She keeps her helmet on as she approaches the newly-arrived ship. It’s silver, shining in the starlight, looking somewhat Nabooian.
Bo-Katan waits as Din Djarin climbs down from the pilot’s seat. He’s wearing his armor too, looking worse for wear than it was when she last saw him.
They stare at each other for a long moment. Bo-Katan breaks the silence first. “Did you come alone?”
He nods, then reaches to his belt. Bo-Katan knows what he’s going to hold out to her, but it doesn’t make seeing the Darksaber in all its glory any less intimidating. She holds back a sigh. She doesn’t want to do this; she trusts Din. She even likes him, surprisingly. But this is for her people.
She takes stance, readying herself for a battle. “At your call, warrior.”
“No.”
Bo-Katan’s heard him speak before, but there’s a strength in his voice now that rivals the beskar he dons. He drops the Darksaber on the ground between them. “I’m not fighting you.”
“You have to, Din.” Bo-Katan doesn’t move for it. “I will not accept your yielding, not when you won it by your own right.”
“Tell them you defeated me.” Din gestures at the fallen blade. “No one’s going to know.”
“I will know,” Bo-Katan spits, shoving past the insult. “I’ve lost Mandalore twice. I will rule it by the Way, or not at all.”
“I can’t rule Mandalore.” Din folds his arms. His helmet hides his expression, but she would guess he’s irritated with her. “I have someone to protect.”
Bo-Katan almost asks who, but she can’t slip into friendly conversation, not now. This will end tonight.
“This is the Way.” Bo-Katan meets his invisible gaze with hers. “There is no other.”
“Technically, there is.”
Bo-Katan whirls around to face Axe, standing in the entrance of their base. “What are you doing here?” she demands. They can’t help her, not here.
“You deserve the Darksaber, Lady.” Koska steps out at Axe’s side, her hands clasped behind her back. “We’d accept you however you claimed it.”
Bo-Katan tears her helmet off, throwing it to the ground. “I am not going to rule Mandalore under a lie,” she snarls, furious at the both of them. “I am no coward.”
“Neither is he.” Koska nods at Din. “Will you kill him for it? Murder a Mandalorian under the guise of saving them?”
Bo-Katan tries to argue back, but her words become clay in her throat. She glares at Koska, and Koska only stares evenly back.
“Wait.” Din steps forward, one arm extended towards Axe. “What did you mean, there’s another way? Is there?”
Axe inclines his head. “I’m not surprised Lady Kryze wouldn’t think of it, but it’s not unheard of. If we want to end this without any bloodshed.”
“Yes.” The relief in Din’s voice is overpowering. “Whatever it is, if I don’t have to fight her, I’ll do it.”
Axe tells them.
“What? No.” Bo-Katan opens her mouth, closes it again, stares at him. “I’m not - I won’t - no.”
Din is entirely still beside her, still looking at Axe. Koska glances away at Bo-Katan’s expression, her throat bobbing as she swallows, unreadable.
And Axe, bastard that he is, laughs.