Work Text:
Din was tired of living under the oppressive weight of secrecy. Hadn’t the Fighting Corps trained him well? Din had sworn the Creed and wore his armor with pride—the helmet to protect his identity and the weapons to protect his integrity. To lose either would be to lose himself.
But Din wasn’t worried about losing anything. He trained day after day. So why did he still have to hide away? Why did any Mandalorian have to hide? Their people were strong–-maybe no longer in numbers, but certainly in skill.
Din wanted to stretch his legs. He wanted to explore the galaxy. He wanted to become a beroya and provide for his covert.
Maybe this mission to a backwater planet in the Outer Rim would be Din’s chance to prove himself to his commander. Zeffo seemed like an easy target. Din and the rest of the small team were crouched low, flattened to the ridge as they looked down on the imperial substation from the high ground.
“This is a stealth mission,” Din’s commander reminded him and the other young recruits. Her blue helmet turned towards Din. “Don’t piss off the local imperial garrison, Djarin.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Just get in, get the beskar, and get back to the ship. You all have the rendezvous coordinates encoded into your vambrace controls. Don’t garner unwanted imperial attention.”
Din gnashed his teeth. “Yes, sir,” he grated out dutifully.
“Okay. Let’s move.”
They descended as a unit. The team made quick work of the lone stormtrooper patrolling the substation roof and began searching for an entry point.
Din noticed movement at the periphery of his visor. “Probe droid!” he alerted.
“Take it down before it can report our location!”
The small flying droid was hovering just out of reach. Din didn’t hesitate. Ducking under the probe’s blaster fire, he leapt off the roof of the substation and grabbed onto the thing with both hands.
It darted around, trying to dislodge him. But he held on tight.
It flew them over water far below, and Din took his chance.
He unsheathed his vibroblade and buried it in the proble’s hull. It spluttered the end of its life in blue electrical charges that sent tingles through Din’s gloves. Then the machine went dark.
Dead in the air, the probe droid fell.
Din fell right along with it.
It was a long way down. He hit the water hard, and the impact dazed him. He hung limply and started to sink. He kicked his legs and resurfaced with a gasp.
Din looked up. His commander was calling out to him from the substation rooftop, but she was too far away, and Din couldn’t make out the words.
He also couldn’t see a way back up. He hadn’t earned the rising phoenix yet, so he had no jetpack.
Paz, one of Din’s cohort, and already taller than their commander, leaned over the edge and saluted him.
Din acknowledged him with a weak salute back. He was pleased his efforts hadn’t been for nothing. No new stormtroopers appeared, so it seemed he’d managed to stop the probe droid before it compromised their mission.
Din’s commander signaled for him to find his own way back to the ship. He was on his own.
He treaded water and scanned the area. No obvious shoreline was in sight, but there were some rocky outcroppings that had potential.
He swam.
The current was flowing in one direction, so Din followed it. As he did, the surface became choppier. The waves became faster.
A quiet, distant rumble became a loud roar.
The current continued sweeping him along.
As the churning and roaring grew in intensity, so did Din’s concern.
Peering ahead, he realized he was approaching a sharp drop-off. And he had no idea how steep it was.
There was nowhere to go but towards it.
As he approached the edge, he took a deep breath—
And was cast into freefall.
The air whipped around him as he dropped from the top of a terrifyingly-high waterfall.
Not good!
Even if the pool at the bottom was deep, and even if he managed to avoid landing on a sharp rock, the impact alone would probably kill him. Din wasn’t going to survive this.
And then—as the water rushed up to meet him—his descent suddenly slowed.
Instead of smacking into the water’s surface, Din was caught by invisible hands, which decelerated his fall.
Once he was just above the water’s surface, the invisible cradle disappeared. He landed in the pool with a soft splash.
Heart racing from his near-death drop, Din paddled to shore and flopped onto his back. “Ugh.”
Don’t just lie there, Mandalorian, his commander’s voice sounded in his mind. You’re not safe. Follow protocol.
Din trudged to his feet, shook out some of the water from his helmet, and looked around for threats. He also looked back over the area above the waterfall. Was there a hidden grav-net that had caught him? It didn’t look like it. So what had saved him?
He changed his visor settings to infrared and scanned the area. There! Something warm-blooded was moving behind the waterfall.
Din unsheathed his vibroblade and stalked closer to the heat signature. It was large enough to be a person…or a wild beast.
Din nimbly jogged across the wet rocks until he was behind the waterfall.
The heat signature was receding into a dark cave.
Din followed it.
“Don’t come any closer,” a voice said.
Din paused and flicked on his helmet lamp, shining it around the passageway. He couldn’t spot the speaker.
“I saved your life, Mandalorian. Whatever reward you think you’ll get for handing me over to the Imps, it won’t be worth it. They’ll only kill you and keep the credits.”
The word ‘reward’ caught Din’s attention. Although he wasn’t a bounty hunter now, he wanted to become one. Maybe this quarry could be his first catch. He ignored the warning and asked the more pressing question on his mind. “You saved my life? That was you catching me when I fell?”
“It was.”
“I”m not working for the Empire,” Din said, hoping to put his mysterious rescuer at ease, even if the idea of capturing him and collecting his bounty grew increasingly appealing.
“You’re not from the Haxian Brood, are you?” the unseen speaker asked. “You don’t look cybernetically enhanced to me, but who knows what you’re hiding under that armor. Why are you chasing me?”
“I’m not chasing you,” Din denied. “I didn’t come to Zeffo to find you.”
“Seems like you might’ve.”
In the eyes of many in the galaxy, all Mandalorians were presumed to be bounty hunters. The misconception was a product of deliberate obfuscation. Mandalorians hid their numbers by permitting few to leave the covert at a time. And most who did leave were hunting to support the others.
If this stranger’s bounty really was as high as he claimed, Din should turn him in and get credits to support his tribe and provide for the foundlings. Maybe if Din impressed his covert by collecting this bounty, he would be granted the position of beroya younger than most.
“You saved me. I’m not your enemy,” Din said. It wasn’t a lie. He simply neglected to mention that he didn’t need to consider the other man an enemy to collect his bounty. Din aimed his light around the damp cavern, revealing nothing but moss and mynocks. “Show yourself.”
Snap-hiss.
A glowing blue blade, humming with power, extended into the air close to Din’s chest.
Too close.
He jumped back.
“What kind of sword is that?!” Din couldn’t contain his surprise. It was somewhat reminiscent of a purge trooper’s purple electrobaton, but more concentrated and condensed into a single blade.
Din followed the blue glow across the sword to its wielder—a young man, similar in age to Din himself. He was dressed in rugged climbing gear and an oversized poncho.
“It’s a lightsaber,” the man answered. He tilted his head. “You really don’t know?”
“Weapons might be part of my religion, but I don’t know every weapon in the galaxy,” Din said defensively.
Din’s statement elicited a laugh. “Some people say it’s a weapon from a more civilized age.”
History wasn’t Din’s forte. His personal history was lost to the stars, and even his knowledge of Mandalorian history was sparse. “There’s nothing wrong with a good blaster.” But his curiosity was piqued.
“So, just to be clear,” the saber-wielder continued, “you didn’t come to Zeffo to hunt a Jedi, then?”
“Nope.”
The blade extinguished with a hiss, leaving them in blackness.
“That’s right BD, he’s not a threat. He’s a friend.”
Din’s hackles raised at being deemed a non-threat, but he kept that to himself. Better a new ally than a new enemy.
At first, Din thought the twin lights that appeared over the man’s head were from a lamp attachment, like Din’s, but then he realized it was a little bi-pedeal droid perched on his shoulders. Din sighed. He hated droids.
“Name’s Cal. Cal Kestis.”
A hand was offered.
Din shook it. “You can call me Mando.” He pointed to the droid. “That thing’s going to give away our location to the Imps.”
“BD-1 would never,” Cal denied, sounding amused. “If you think lightsabers are cool, Mando, you should follow me. It senses something in this cave.”
Din should really be getting back to the rendezvous point, but he stumbled over Cal’s phrasing. “Did you say your saber senses something?” He eyed the hilt suspiciously. “Is it…alive or something?”
“In a way,” Cal answered. “It’s powered by a kyber crystal. And kyber crystals do have a kind of collective sentience. They can communicate with other crystals—and with Force users.”
Din had no idea what Cal was talking about. But if the crystal could sense other crystals, maybe that meant there was another crystal further in the cave—one Din could use to make his own laser sword. He’d never seen a Mandalorian with a laser sword, but Mandalorians used every power weapon they could get their hands on. Most of his armor that wasn't reclaimed from fallen Mandalorians was scrapped from stormtroopers. “Lead the way,” he said.
Together, they made their way further into the cave.
The cave walls began to glow, much like Cal’s lightsaber. The ore must contain phosphorescent elements. It gave Din a better look at his strange companion, whose red hair was apparent even in the bluish light.
They scaled walls.
Hopped large ravines.
Crawled through narrow passageways.
Din was sweating through his thermals by the time they came to an impassable crevasse.
“We can’t make this jump,” Din said, assessing the distance to the other side.
“Then we don’t jump,” Cal said mysteriously.
Before Din’s eyes, Cal moved his hand, and a large boulder shook itself free and fell across the crevasse like a bridge.
Din stared at his companion in confusion and a little awe. “How did you do that?”
“The Force,” Cal answered, hopping up onto the boulder bridge and dashing across to the other side. “Come on!”
Din frowned but jogged after him.
“What’s the Force?”
“The Force is the energy in everything in the galaxy,” Cal said as they continued forward. “It’s in the ground. The air. The rocks. You. Me. Even BD here!”
The droid whistled and chirped.
“Jedi can connect with the Force,” Cal continued as they kept moving. “It’s what gives a Jedi their powers. Like moving that boulder.”
“Or catching me in mid air?” Din asked.
“Exactly!”
They squeezed through a small opening and arrived in what looked like an abandoned workroom. The tech inside appeared somehow advanced and ancient at the same time. It was also covered in a fine layer of dust. Din brushed some of the soot off with a gloved finger. Cal sneezed, and the droid beeped a sympathetic tone.
Din turned to Cal. “But if you thought I was hunting Jedi and was going to turn you over to the Imps, why did you save me?”
Cal’s droid chirped a questioning tone, too.
Cal paused in his exploration, turning pale eyes to meet Din’s visor. “Because you were in trouble.”
Din opened his mouth to object that if Cal had been right about his intentions then his misfortune could only have been a good thing for the Jedi. Even setting aside the whole telekinesis thing, it just didn’t make sense.
“And I only suspected you were a bounty hunter coming after me,” Cal added. His voice grew steely. “Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”
“I don’t know about that,” Din said ruefully. “My commander says shoot first and ask questions later. It’s safer.”
“Maybe it is safer,” Cal agreed. “But it’s no way to live.”
Wasn’t it? It was the only way Din could remember living since he was taken in as a foundling. “What do you mean?”
Cal hopped up onto the old workbench and sat down on it. He gestured for Din to join him. They sat side by side with their legs dangling off the edge.
Cal began to speak. “For a long time after my Master died protecting me, I hid. All the Jedi who survived hid. But then I had the opportunity to step up and help others, and I had to make a choice. I chose to get involved. I chose to repair my connection with the Force and make it my mission to help other lost Jedi and to fight back against the Empire.”
“I didn’t know the Empire wiped out your people,” Din said, “But I understand. They wiped out mine, too. My first…my parents…” Din cleared his throat, prolonging the fading memory of his parents’ faces as they told him they loved him and closed the cellar door. “The droid army destroyed Aq Vetina, and Mandalorians came to our aid. I survived and joined their ranks.”
“So you weren’t born on Mandalore,” Cal observed.
Din shook his head. “Mandalorian isn’t a race. It’s a Creed.”
“The same is true for Jedi,” Cal said, sounding almost wistful. “It’s a way of life you have to constantly choose.”
Din thought about how every time he reported back to the covert, he had to swear that he hadn’t removed his helmet and that he still followed the Way. Every time, it was a choice—one that he willingly made.
“After the purge, everyone scattered,” Cal said. “Hunting Jedi isn’t easy when they don’t want to be found.” He gave Din a half-smile. “That’s why I was so suspicious of you tracking me so far off the grid. I have to be careful.”
“I understand,” Din said. “Mandalorians are scattered, too. After the imperial purge on Mandalore, few survived. My tribe was relatively insulated on Concordia, but many recruits I knew died during the Night of a Thousand Tears. Since then, we’ve gone underground—often literally. We have a network of coverts and remain hidden. We don’t even remove our helmets. The Creed protects us.” Din said the last bit by rote, but he believed it, too—most of the time, at least. There were times when following the Creed was hard.
Cal nodded but his eyes seemed sad. “The Jedi creed has a habit of getting us into more trouble rather than less.”
“Just tell the Force and the crystal things in your laser sword that saving the lives of potential enemies isn’t the brilliant strategy they think it is.” Din lightly shoved Cal with his elbow.
“Noted,” Cal said, chuckling. “But it didn’t turn out too terribly with you, did it?”
As much as Din wanted to prove himself as a hunter, he figured his chances of overpowering a sorcerer who could move rocks with his mind were poor to say the least. Besides, Cal wasn’t bad company. They had surprisingly similar backgrounds. They were foundlings of lost peoples. They were survivors. There was a kinship in that, which transcended the Way.
“I suppose not,” Din allowed. “But we haven’t found what you came down here to find yet.”
“The keyword is yet, right BD?” Cal jumped to his feet and began looking around the room again.
“What do you hope to find here?” Din asked. “What do you think the Zeffo would have kept in a secret workshop behind a waterfall?”
“The Zeffo had a close connection with the Force. It could be anything. It could be…” Cal grinned, and the expression lit up his whole face. “This!”
Din went to Cal’s side and peered over his shoulder—the one BD-1 wasn’t currently perching on.
Cal was holding a small piece of metal. It shined almost like pure beskar. “What is it?”
“I think I know what to do with this,” Cal said quietly, almost reverently, then placed his lightsaber hilt on the table. He closed his eyes and passed his hand over the hilt, and Din watched in amazement as the saber split apart, revealing its innerworkings. Using some kind of telekinesis—the Force, Din supposed—Cal inserted the new piece he’d found, then lifted the reconstructed hilt and inspected it.
“It’s not going to blow up, is it?” Din asked warily.
“Let’s hope not!”
Din didn’t appreciate the joke, and made sure to take a couple steps back as Cal held out the hilt and prepared to test out the mysterious upgrade. To Din’s surprise, BD-1 jumped from Cal’s shoulders onto his and whirred a concerned tone. Din still didn’t like droids, but at least this one had some sense. “Your droid agrees with me.”
“It’s alright you two,” Cal teased. He ignited the blade.
The blue laser-beam was longer than before.
“Oh! An extender!” Cal said excitedly. “I can think of a lot of uses for this. My saber can split in half like this.” Cal demonstrated by separating the hilt into two shorter blades. “But when it comes together, it’s usually the original length.” Cal joined the hilts back together and showed the single blade like before. “This new piece lets me change the size of the blade. It’s so cool!”
It was pretty cool. Everything about the laser sword was pretty cool, in Din’s opinion. His vibroblade just didn’t compare. For all his bluster about liking a good blaster, he absolutely wanted a lightsaber now.
“How do I get one of those?” Din asked.
“A lightsaber?”
“No, a BD unit,” Din joked, and the droid on his shoulder made a fussy tone and hopped down to the ground, scampering back over to Cal. “Yes, a lightsaber.”
“They’re the sacred weapon of the Jedi.”
“I see,” Din said, but internally was thinking about how he could find a dead Jedi and scrap a saber off them.
Cal held his palms up. “Hey now, I’m all for scrapping, but you’re just as likely to cut off your own legs as your enemies’ if you aren’t a Force user.”
Din shrugged. “Consider me duly warned. Wait, how did you know what I was thinking?” Am I just that obvious, Din wondered. Mandalorians did have a reputation for appreciating elegant weapons. Din had his eye on a distingrator pistol—what could be more elegant than blasting an enemy out of existence?
Cal looked sheepish. “I can sense strong thoughts and emotions. You were projecting.”
Splendid. Din’s new friend could read minds. That wasn’t concerning at all.
“Since I won’t be getting my own saber any time soon, can I try yours out?” Din asked. Maybe Cal’s embarrassment at getting caught mind-reading would make him willing to let Din borrow the lightsaber.
Cal shook his head. “Sorry. I like you, but my Master used to say that my lightsaber was my life. It’s an extension of me. I can’t willingly part with it just for you to try it out.”
Din was disappointed, but he understood. It’s not like he’d let Cal put his helmet on to try it out either. Mandalorian armor and weaponry were sacred, too. It was just another thing they had in common. “That’s okay,” Din said. “But maybe you can use it to help us find a shortcut out of this place?”
“You got it, Di—Mando.”
Cal jumped onto the wall, literally sidestepping the implication of his slip-up in nearly calling Din by his given name. But Din could only appreciate that Cal was honoring his request to be called as a Mandalorian despite plucking his name from his mind.
The Jedi clung to a bunch of vines that looked unstable. But like a Kowakian monkey-lizard, Cal climbed them up to a port at the top that was covered in more vines. He ignited his saber and slashed through the foliage, revealing an opening just large enough to crawl through.
“Found an exit!” Cal called down.
Din eyed the vines doubtfully, then grabbed on and heaved himself up. Following Cal around was a bit like repeating the final training day in the Fighting Corps over and over. Strenuous was an understatement.
When they emerged from the cavern, they were back on top of the bluff from which that Din had originally fallen. From their safe vantage point in the grass, he could see the towering waterfall he’d tumbled over. Din felt lucky to be alive.
And then a half-dozen stormtroopers crested the hill, and Din felt his luck run out.
“Freeze! Don’t move!” one of them called.
Din couldn’t believe his eyes—a purge trooper here? On this planet in the middle of nowhere in the Outer Rim? The purge trooper must be here for Cal. Din glanced over to him worriedly. What’s the plan? he wanted to ask. Do we fight? Or flee?
Or was there a third option?
Din was a good fighter, but even if Cal could take the purge trooper, that left five regular stormtroopers. Could Din take those odds? He wasn’t sure.
Duplicity could be the better strategy.
He could only pray that Cal could split his focus enough to sense that Din was about to lie through his teeth.
“I caught the Jedi!” Din declared, grabbing Cal by the back of his poncho. “I caught him, and I want to collect his bounty!”
At Cal’s wide, betrayal-filled eyes, Din tried to mentally project his thoughts: I don’t mean it. I’m lying. I’m lying. I’m lying. He repeated the litany over and over.
But Cal wasn’t going along with Din’s haphazard plan to trick the Imperials.
Instead, he shoved Din out of the way with an invisible push so hard it moved the very earth under Din’s feet.
Din was flung to the ground.
Cal ignited his lightsaber and crouched over him.
“I’m sorry to do this, Mando.” Cal’s words were regretful.
Wait. What?
Din flinched and tried to reach for a weapon, but he was frozen. He couldn’t move a muscle.
He didn’t understand what was happening. Cal had saved his life, and Din was just trying to return the favor, if he could.
“Too many people are counting on me,” Cal was saying. “I can only take so many risks, even if I wish otherwise. But maybe we’ll meet again one day.”
Din’s vision became foggy. His thoughts did, too.
And then…nothingness.
When Din came to, he was lying in a grassy field near a tall waterfall.
He didn’t remember how he got there. He remembered tackling a probe droid, dropping into the water, falling, and then… nothing.
His vambrace pinged a query, and Din sent a signal of his lifesign back to his commander.
He needed to get to the rendezvous point in a hurry.
He stood up, brushed off his armor, and glanced around.
Woah.
There were dead stormtroopers everywhere.
What had happened here?
Din didn’t know. He picked his way over the bodies, regretting that there wasn’t time to scrap them for new armor pieces.
He could only hope that his taking down the probe droid had allowed his team to successfully complete their mission to recover the stolen beskar. The Armorer would melt it down and remove the imperial sigil, reforging the Mandalorian steel into helmets for the foundlings and replacement armor for the tribe’s warriors.
Din rushed to the rendezvous coordinates, where he was greeted with equal measure relief and skepticism over his faulty memory. The mission had been a success. His commander noted that Din had fallen from a great height, so perhaps he’d suffered a concussion. He’d have to report to the covert medics once they returned home.
- + - Present Day - + -
The Darksaber was getting easier to wield.
It was still stubborn, which was an odd thought to have about a laser sword. But there was no other way to describe how it sometimes seemed to resist Din’s will and tried to impose its own. Din wondered if he should reassure the Darksaber that he did actually know what he was doing, but he felt ridiculous telling a sword to have faith in him.
Grogu had faith in him, though.
His little one was watching from the other side of the training hall.
Din decided it was time for a break. He deactivated the Darksaber and went to pick up Grogu. He lifted his helmet, and Grogu immediately grabbed at his face. Din smiled at him.
Grogu cooed, then wrinkled his tiny face in concentration. It was his usual ‘Jedi stuff’ look. Din knew it too well.
“What’s wrong, scamp?” Din asked.
Grogu put his hand on Din’s cheek and closed his eyes.
Din waited patiently, content to let Grogu commune with him, even if it was only one-way. He closed his eyes, too, just appreciating the closeness with his ad’ika.
Din jolted as his mind was flooded with a memory long forgotten.
Or long buried and only now brought to the surface.
Of a poncho and red hair. Of fear giving way to understanding. Of the first lightsaber Din had ever seen. Of a conversation that forged a connection between two foundlings struggling against a common foe. Of an encounter that ended in confusion and misunderstanding.
When Din opened his eyes, he had a new purpose. “Grogu, what would you say about looking up a different Jedi? One who might be able to give me some tips on wielding this thing.” And one to whom Din owed an explanation of the ruse he’d been attempting.
Grogu gave a hopeful pat on Din’s cheek.
“Alright,” Din agreed. “We’re looking for a Jedi Knight named Cal Kestis…”