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R5-D4’s beeps and whistles projected on the screen of the N-1, scrolling as more text was revealed.

“Looks like Captain Teva has another job for us, Grogu.”

The latter sleepily acknowledged his father’s words from his lap and proceeded to nuzzle back into his abdomen. The Mandalorian had his doubts about how pleasant it was to burrow into the chest armor, but still, he looked cozy. He let the youngling sleep. They’d just wrapped up a mission and Grogu exhausted himself with his use of the Force. He let his apprentice rest as he punched in the course for the ranger base.

The Adelphi ranger was already waiting outside the pilots’ lounge bar as the N-1 landed.

“I never did ask - what happened to the Razor Crest?” he spoke on his approach.

“Moff Gideon. He blew it to bits with his light cruiser,” Din Djarin responded brusquely. He carefully climbed out of the cockpit while attempting to not disturb Grogu.

“I’m sorry. But the N-1 looks like a suitable replacement for what you need, zooming around the galaxy as you do.” The captain likely remembered his speedy escape near Tattooine.

“I have a more permanent home on Nevarro now, but the starfighter and R5 have definitely grown on me,” he shut the cockpit and followed the captain towards the lounge. “It helps that you can contact him to reach me. Now, what was the new job?”

“There’s a swamp planet in the Outer Rim, and their large settlement has recently been ransacked by soldiers that seemed to come out of nowhere over the last couple of weeks.”

“Do you think it has something to do with the Imperials that might have migrated from Mandalore?” Din said after a pause.

“It’s possible, but the Outer Rim Territories have always had problems with raiders and criminals, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this is just someone finding a new opportunity to exploit. From my understanding, the soldiers’ camp is just east of the town’s main entrance. The planet is also a home to a Spice Runner encampment, but apparently even a few of the spice runners have turned up dead. It’s near your sector, so if you have the capacity, I think you could do some good there.”

“I can drop by and see what the situation is. What planet is this?”

“Sorgan.”

Din released a breath of laughter. “I have a friend there from my earlier travels. It will be good to visit. Thanks for contacting R5. If it does happen to be the Imperial stragglers from Mandalore, I will take care of them.”

“Good luck, Mando! And here’s your payment for helping out with the small pocket of separatists attempting to settle on Teth again.” Din Djarin inclined his head in thanks and set off with a wave.

On the way back to the starfighter, he grabbed some food for the way. Grogu was still sleeping peacefully when he settled back into his seat and entered in the familiar coordinates. Once in space, he took a moment to eat and settled down for a nap.

As they made their way through the atmosphere, Din Djarin welcomed the sight of the lush green vegetation. He’d been on too many desert and lava planets recently. And when he wasn’t on either one of those, he had been surrounded by glass and trinitite on Mandalore. Those substances might have been green in color, but the dull olive tint grew tiresome when that was the only color surrounding you.

The sun was past its peak, lighting up the forests and water, not unlike when he first came upon this planet with Grogu a while back. He debated landing near the village where he’d spent a couple of months, but he thought better of it since he wasn’t sure how the villagers would react. Or more specifically her.

A part of him wanted to see her, but a larger part was concerned that he’d just be stringing her along. The Mandalorian had no intention of playing with her heart like that, much less his own.

After landing the N-1, he gently untangled himself from Grogu’s small fists holding on to his cape and laid him down on the seat. That boy could sure sleep for long periods after exhausting himself with his use of the Force. Giving the sleeping apprentice one last look, he walked towards the town where he first ran into Cara Dune.

The town was honestly not much larger than the village where he’d previously settled for a short time. He missed the simple life from those two months after the Klatooinian raiders were defeated. Grogu could enjoy being a kid, and he didn’t have to worry about constantly watching his back. He must admit though, he was growing a bit antsy with nothing to do after two months. There was definitely a sense of relief when they had a reason to leave. He was, after all, a bounty hunter by trade.

The Mandalorian strolled through the small town, picking up a few things here and there at the couple of open stalls. A few mentioned that the market would be open tomorrow and they’d have more options, to which he responded that he’d stop by again. Maybe he’ll bring Grogu with him then and watch him excitedly point out everything he wanted to eat. At one point, he thought he saw one of the villagers whose home neighbored hers, but he was distracted by a flash of white.

At once, his focus was on the figure he saw sneaking behind the stalls. He tucked his meager purchases into his belt, and his fingers itched to draw his blaster. Everyone surrounding him wore dark, worn clothes, courtesy of their modest earnings on this Outer Rim planet. He knew he himself stood out in this crowd, but the soldier clad in white did even more so. He didn’t have the standard garb of an Imperial trooper as he also donned a dark cloak that mostly covered his whole being, and he’d lost the obvious Imperial helmet that helped him blend in further. It was by complete chance that a gust of wind picked up his cloak and Din’s eyes were drawn to the lighter tint of the duraplast underneath.

As the figure approached, the Mandalorian ducked behind the nearest clothes rack and held up his index finger near where his mouth was to indicate to the sales person from earlier to not draw attention to him. His eyes continued to follow the cloaked figure, and once there was enough distance between them, he began to trail after him.

The Imperial was obviously not concerned with people following them because once they left the busy block of the town center, they walked the center of the path. Granted, there really weren’t that many others around, but still. If Din Djarin had been an Imperial soldier on the run from the New Republic or the Mandalorians, he’d keep his head on a swivel and stick to the shadows. And he would definitely lose the obvious white duraplast when not on duty or at camp. Or at least find a more suitable way to keep it discreet. This soldier’s disguise was undone by a blast of wind…

What he saw at their makeshift camp was unsettling. There were more than twenty-five soldiers moving in and out of tents. Even more alarming was the fact that there were at least another five soldiers clad in the white-and-gray beskar armor. He didn’t dare get any closer, even when night fell. There were several soldiers patrolling at a time, and lights at every entrance. He knew better than to stick his nose into that environment with his reflective armor.

The camp grew quiet as the night progressed, and he retreated to the N-1. Grogu was still out, but he cuddled closer to the Mandalorian when the latter held him close. It was all he could do to not coo. His cute little foundling son would truly be the death of him. Smiling, he took off his belt and jet pack, deposited the few purchases into the small storage compartment, and wrapped his cape around the two of them before going to sleep.

His sleep was uneasy, and when Grogu knocked on his helmet in the early morning, he sat up with a start. He handed him some of the snacks he bought the day before and attempted to fall back asleep, the young one’s carefree munching providing some comfort. How little he needs for happiness.

He woke up after a restless nap but feeling a tad more refreshed.

He sent off a beam message to Mandalore to ask for backup before telling his son about the market. His eyes larger than normal, the little one tugged at the Mandalorian's cape and pulled him into the direction of the town. With a laugh, Din Djarin followed.

Oof! A small body slammed into him, though Din wagered the other person was winded more than him since their face probably smashed into his beskar armor. He looked down and saw Winta peering up at him, “Hiiii!” Her face was full of joy, her eyes happy little slits.

“Hi Winta.”

“We were wondering if we’d ever see you again,” another voice uttered.

Din Djarin looked up, and his heart did a flip. There she was. Omera. She was smiling ear to ear, and he swore that her smile was more radiant than the morning sun on her face. “Hi,” he breathed.

Winta pulled at his attention (and gloved arm) as she inquired about the little green guy.

“Grogu. His name is Grogu. And I’ve officially adopted him as my own. It’s been written into the Song.”

Omera smiled, “Thi– It’s how it should be.” He wondered what she was going to say. “You were already a nice parent figure to him then, and I’m sure you two have only gotten closer.”

Din Djarin took a breath, studying Omera, his chest doing something weird.

“Did you come here for the market?” she inquired.

“Yes,” he turned to look for his boy. “Grogu!” he called and saw him running with his little legs moving as fast as they would go. With a final jump, he was in Din’s arms.

“Look who’s here,” was all he managed to get out before Winta’s squeal of pleasure interrupted him. She reached for him, and Din gave up on speaking in all the excitement. Grogu jumped to hug the girl, and they ran off together.

He stared after them, and Omera spoke, suddenly much closer to him. “Don’t worry. She comes here a lot, often on her own.”

“You sure they’re going to be safe?”

“It’s really funny to see you worry about him so much. I don’t even need to see your face to tell you’re nervous about letting him out of your sight. I can tell from your body language that you’re super tense. Relax,” she reached out and placed a soft hand on his upper arm. He gulped. She made him so nervous, especially when she got super close.

“Do you come here often too? Want to show me around?” was his sad attempt at asking her to join him for the walk around town. He cringed behind his helmet, but maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought, since she only smiled wider in response and led the way. As they walked, she mentioned that her neighbor saw him yesterday, so she came to town first thing today to see if it was true. She waited for him!

He relaxed marginally, but he made sure to stay a reasonable distance away. His heart still needed to settle down. They chatted about the events that transpired since the day he left the village after the attempt on Grogu’s life. The village’s krill farming business was doing well thanks to his and Cara’s help. They could now hold their own, and raiders stayed away from the small village.

Conversation with her was easy, and he didn’t feel like he had to fill all the empty silences with random talk. They must have been on their fourth or fifth loop around the market before he started noticing that one of the merchants, who happened to be someone from Omera’s village, would beam at them as they passed by. It registered how much time had passed, and he looked around for their children. She recognized his distress and sped up until they could hear them up ahead. She must have heard his breath of relief because she asked, more seriously, “So why are you really back on Sorgan?”

He explained the job from the Adelphi ranger and the encampment not too far from their location. She connected the dots with the recent events from Mandalore and responded with, “Now your reaction makes more sense. Would you feel better if we went to the village?” He responded in the affirmative but mentioned she could go ahead with the kids. He hurried through his shopping prior to loading up his N-1 and taking off. He might as well move the ship while he’s here.

The N-1 starship approached the village and hovered overhead. The tiny settlement appeared in much better shape than when he’d last seen it. Although, it did have a giant AT-ST ruining the view in his memory. He fluidly landed the starfighter and hopped out of the cockpit with one smooth maneuver.

Looking around, his return did not go unnoticed. Some of the nearby kids waved, and a few of the adults joined in, knowing smiles on their faces. He spotted Omera walking in his direction, so he met her in the middle. “Would I be able to stay in the barn again? My new ship doesn’t exactly have a room for sleeping.”

“Of course! You’re always welcome to stay.” He remembered her last request to him and wondered whether she did too. “After how much you and Cara helped us last time, I’m pretty sure you could settle here for the rest of your life without lifting a finger, and no one would say a word.”

“Hopefully not just because I’m a better fighter than all of them combined?”

She laughed, “no, not at all. They respect you.”

He tried to ignore the not-so-secret glances everyone kept giving them as Omera assisted with moving items from the starship to the nearby barn. Just look ahead; don’t mind them.

Once he was settled in, he belatedly realized he would have to give the Gauntlet new coordinates after he moved his location. He asked Omera to let the others know others will be coming in to help with his mission as he went to assess the cleared area and advised the incoming transport ship on the new landing location.

The villagers welcomed him back as if he never left. They had saved him a seat around the campfire while they ate but let him know he was free to step away whenever to eat himself. It was unusual how comfortable he felt here, and the possibility of staying floated to the forefront of his mind again. He shook his helmet to clear his head and refocus on the conversation around the fire. One of the parents shared a story about their son catching their first krill today. Din Djarin smiled down at the apprentice sitting next to him as he remembered all that he’d accomplished the day before. Taking down twelve targets wasn’t easy, but with Din’s assistance, his son managed to get them all under control submit them to the city’s Marshall for detention to await trial. He couldn’t be more proud of his apprentice. He helped take care of criminals and impound Imperials all the while avoiding destruction of property and minimizing injuries to their targets. Din figured the desire to avoid wounding them must have had to do with the Force, and he commended his young son for being so wise.

With the fire dying out, Din went to check for any incoming dispatches with R5. The Gauntlet was set to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Good. He wanted to remove the threat sooner than later, and he wasn’t as righteous as his son.

Din awoke to children’s laughter drifting in through the open window and soft babbling of his young apprentice. Having removed his armor last night, he slept on a soft padded blanket in his helmet. He figured he could ease up on his personal being-ready-for-a-battle-at-any-moment standard for this one night since the villagers said they hadn’t been bothered in months, and there was a general relaxed atmosphere as everyone departed to their homes. Sleeping horizontally was substantially more comfortable than the seat in his cockpit, and he was glad for the break to his body. He felt so much more rested! He stretched and departed the barn after donning most of his armor.

Besides the children, most people were still in their homes. The Mandalorian was glad he’d left his cape and jet pack inside. The sun beat down, even this early in the morning, and he removed his gloves to feel the rays on his skin. It was so peaceful here. Too peaceful, a voice in his head told him, reminding him of how he was itching to leave when he stayed here before. He sat on the bottom step and felt the grass and soil under his fingertips. He really was tired of sand and glass. This was a nice change of scenery, whether or not this place was too peaceful.

Lost in his mind, he didn’t hear Omera come up behind him. He’d gotten so accustomed to hearing a clink of armor or shuffle of a flight suit when his brothers and sisters moved, but her skirts muffled all sound and allowed her to approach unnoticed. He gave a start when she appeared in his peripheral vision. Once again, a question hung on his lips yet he didn’t ask, preferring to allow Omera to keep her secrets to herself. How did she know how to shoot a rifle? And how was she able to sneak up quietly on him? Her steps were so light, as if on purpose.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. How did you sleep?” she asked softly as she sat close, seemingly in an attempt to make up for raising his heart rate. But her getting so close did nothing to help with that problem.

He cleared his throat. “Really well. It’s been about a week since I’ve slept on a flat surface. Most times Grogu and I sleep in the seat on the starfighter.”

She seemed lost in her thoughts before commenting. “How do you do it? How can you avoid never showing your face to anyone?” she sounded almost wistful, somehow.

Din Djarin hung his head in shame. “I… I did once.” He felt Omera look up at him, and that only made him feel smaller. “Grogu was leaving with the Jedi, and I didn’t want to say goodbye, possibly forever, without once seeing him through my own eyes. He looked so apprehensive. That whole moment was a blur, and I immediately put the helmet on when I realized what I’d done, but the damage was done. I got exiled out of the covert, and I had to be redeemed before I could come back.” He risked a glance up at Omera, and he saw understanding in her eyes.

“He is your son, and you were overcome with emotion. With love! I think if you had any reason to take the helmet off, this one is the most worthy. Have you been able to forgive yourself?”

“I bathed in the Living Waters on Mandalore, so I am redeemed.”

She smiled sadly. “I didn’t ask whether you were redeemed. I asked if you had forgiven yourself for your transgression. An understandable one, as I said.”

Din stared at her for a long minute. She thought she could see a faint outline of his eyes through the T-visor with the sun beaming overhead. Finally, he gave a succinct nod. The Mandalorian realized he had forgiven himself, especially when she simplified it for him. He loved his son. He loved him even before he adopted the little creature as his own, and there was a multitude of reasons why he did. Din loved him for his eyes that saw all and spoke so clearly of their trust in the Mandalorian. He loved him for the apprentice’s desire to do good and help others. He loved him for the carefree and positive outlook that seemed to accompany them through every situation. The child had breathed life and light into his world. He now realized just how much his life changed after meeting the little creature. And most of all, he knew the little one loved him back just as unconditionally as he loved Grogu, whether or not he’d done terrible things in his past or swore by the Creed. He had taken off his helmet for the one that had made him truly experience living and loving to the fullest. He didn’t realize how much he was just surviving from one mission and bounty to the next. He had a purpose now. Running though all of that in his mind, he nodded again more confidently and said, “yes. Thank you, Omera, for helping me see that.”

She smiled softly. They sat quietly, each lost in their thoughts.

For all her quiet footfalls, her body could betray her in other ways. Her stomach growled loudly, and they turned to stare at each other for a beat before breaking out in laughter.

“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed when the laughter died down, looking embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re human.”

“So are you, but your stomach isn’t waking up the dead.”

“Ah, but see this is where being under all this armor helps. It helps soundproof and mask the roaring of my stomach,” he jested. “But I also snack when I can so that I can keep the hunger at bay since I don’t always know when I’ll have a chance to eat without others around.”

She got up to her feet, and he joined her. “Would you like something to eat? I can bring you breakfast.”

“Only if you allow me to help you out in return.”

“Why? You helped us so much last time.”

“But last time, I was here to help the village, and I got paid for it. You aren’t getting anything out of my staying here now. You’re already housing me.”

“It’s a barn. It’s hardly a house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Maybe,” she grinned at him. “Let’s eat, and then I’ll see what you can help me with.”

She invited him in while she put together a breakfast, and they decided the safest thing to do was for him to go back to the barn to eat with his helmet off there. They sat back to back against the door between them, and she heard the hiss of the helmet being removed.

“Thank you for this,” he spoke gratefully. The smell of the breakfast wafted up to him, and the stomach released a resounding growl. He chuckled, and he was pretty sure Omera stifled a giggle as well. He dug into the food and complimented her cooking.

To Omera, his voice sounded softer and more gentle without the voice modulator of the helmet. The timbre of his natural voice was rich and deep, and she appreciated that he trusted her enough to take the helmet off and sit so close. She could, after all, pull the door open and see him if she really wanted, but she was grateful that he had begun to pull down the walls between them. They continued to talk through the door, and she marveled more than once at how far they’d come.

Eventually, the Mandalorian slipped the helmet back on, and he came back out. The sun was considerably higher overhead. “Let me know how I can be of service.”

She took his plate and said she’ll be right back with supplies. She brought over some tools and grabbed a ladder from the barn. “Can I request that you put on the jetpack?” In response to his quizzical head tilt, she followed up with, “I need some repairs done on the roof. I have a fear of heights and would really appreciate it if you could help with patching up the couple of threadbare spots on the roof. Would you mind?” She looked hopeful.

“Not at all.” He could be a handyman for a day. Especially if it made her happy.

Primarily relying on his balance, Din didn’t think he needed the jetpack, but if it set Omera’s mind at ease, he didn’t mind. It was fairly easy work, though he did see how it could be unnerving for someone who had a fear of heights.

They started up a conversation again, and this time Omera took the lead and asked him about anything and everything regarding the planet Mandalore. It was like she was waiting for him to bring up the subject earlier, and now that he’d mentioned it, she was very curious. He didn’t mind answering. He did stress to her that she might be better off asking some of the Nite Owls when they arrived since he’d only been to the planet two times in the last two months. The others had lived there before and had been re-settling the broken world.

“I might,” she said kittenishly and mysteriously at the same time. That was an interesting combination. Just at that moment, she was called away by one of her neighbors, Stoke, who asked what she was doing on her day off.

She glanced back at him, and Din had to quickly look away. “He’s been helping me with my roof.”

“Who…? Ah,” Stoke said, looking up towards the ladder leaning against the house, the shiny Mandalorian armor dazzling in the midday sun. “Have fun you two!” The Mandalorian overheard and shook his head in embarrassment. This entire village was in cahoots about teasing them behind their backs. Omera ducked under the overhang and inside her little house but not before he’d seen her cheeks burning. When she came out, she was more collected, and she was carrying water for him. He tied off the last of the roof material and climbed down the ladder to take the offered cup. Angling himself away from any prying eyes, he carefully lifted his helmet and took a long drink. The cool water was refreshing, and he felt it all the way down.

“Thank you,” he said, handing back the empty drinking vessel. “My name is Din Djarin,” he uttered softly.

She stepped forward until she was almost toe to toe with him. “Hi, Din Djarin,” she whispered and glanced up at him through the eyelashes. She thought she could just make out a Duchenne smile beneath the visor. If she concentrated hard, she could see that his eyes were large and compelling. Not for the last time, she wished she could see his face directly, but she didn’t make the mistake again - she made no attempt to remove the helmet. She could see how much the one time had weighed on him and did not want to be the cause of more distress.

He was screwed. So. Thoroughly Screwed. He wasn’t sure how long he gazed at her, but he couldn’t break the eye contact. Not until she did, though that was only because the wind picked up from the landing Gauntlet. She shielded her eyes from the dust in the air, and the moment was broken.

“I think the roof should be all set now.”

“Thank you… Din.”

He nodded and turned towards the transport ship. Once the hatch door opened, he made his way over to greet the others. Most of them were Nite Owls, but there were also a couple of his Tribe members. Koska Reeves approached him and yelled in greeting, “The Armourer sends her regards and passes on this set of whistling birds.”

“Please let her know my gratitude and that I will use them well.” He tucked them into one of the pouches on his belt and waited for the rest to gather. A soft gurgle at his side told him Grogu joined him, and he saw a few of the villagers including Omera standing further back, just observing.

Finally, Din Djarin heard footsteps and Bo-Katan appeared. Grogu ran towards her, his little feet pitter-pattering on the ramp. He Force-jumped into her arms, and she caught him just in time. “How’s the little apprentice doing?”

The question was directed at Grogu, and while he did respond with an excited “Uwa!” Din figured he’d translate. “He continues to surprise me, but he’s doing really well. I also didn’t realize you’d be coming. Do you not have enough to keep you busy on Mandalore?”

Setting Grogu down, she slid off her helmet and placed her hands on her hips, helmet in the crook of her arm. The rest of the Nite Owls followed, but the two Watch members kept their helmets on. “I’d be less busy if I had a few more good warriors I could trust, but some of them are hurtling around the galaxy not pulling their weight.” She was clearly irked at his jab, though her face was as stoic as always, and he did feel bad about leaving her to do her thing. But what did he know about politics and ruling planets? Koska just smirked at him.

Taking on a more serious tone, Din said, “But seriously, how are things over there? It’s been – what – over a month already?”

Seemingly getting over her exasperation, or just knowing he didn’t mean the dig earlier, she responded, “Believe it or not, we have been making good progress. I left Axe in charge since this pocket of Imps could be problematic if they’re not extinguished. I wanted to show up to see it for myself. Can’t leave you by yourself, after all.” He wondered what that meant when he noticed her looking over his shoulder towards the villagers. Ah. So she’s already playing along with the villagers. That could get annoying.

Din figured now was as good a time as any to make introductions between the two groups. Within the hour, the Mandalorians were gathered around the fire with the villagers, telling stories about their adventures throughout the galaxy in the recent years.

One of his Watch brothers asked how the small village came to know the Mandalorian.

“He first showed up here with his little boy to help us with the raiders. He walked in and blurted out that we all had to leave.” Omera looked amused. “Naturally, we wouldn't take no for an answer, so he and Cara helped us learn how to fight.”

“Cara Dune?” Bo-Katan asked distractedly. Grogu was playing with one of her ammo pouches on her belt.

Din Djarin nodded. “That's when we met. Right after we tried to kill each other.” He got some shocked looks.

“Huh,” voiced Caben, looking incredulous. “You guys were the best of friends when you departed.” He must have thought Din was lying.

Bo-Katan clarified. “He’s quick to make enemies, but the same goes for friends,” she smiled in his direction. “He has what it takes to get stuff done. Even if the odds are against him, he will give it his all. He's honestly very reliable.” She paused for comedic effect. “U-u-unless, of course, he needs rescuing.” Oh no.

Din Djarin gave a huge sigh, and stared daggers at her through his helmet, visor be damned. Omera stifled a laugh. Most of the villagers were smiling.

Bo defended herself, “What? You did. I've saved you, what, a million times now?”

“Just three, but I've helped you too.”

“That you have,” she rolled her eyes. She got this mirthful look to her eyes and started spilling all his secrets. “Get this, this guy took off his helmet once, and I was honestly so shocked. He’s always going around saying, ‘This is the way.’ First time we met, he just walked away from me after telling me I’m not Mandalorian when I took off my helmet in front of him. And then he goes and does the same thing! He immediately put it back on of course, but then he went on this crazy mission to get back in with the Children of the Watch's good graces. He ended up on Mandalore and needed rescuing - TWICE!”

Okay, that was unnecessary. He grumbled in response, “How was I supposed to know that the Living Waters were so deep?”

“Ma-aybe walking into the Waters in all your armor should have been a hint that you’d sink if anything went wrong?” He shook his head. “But anyway, I pulled him out, my home got destroyed, we eliminated some Imperials, the Watch took me in, and I joined up with them for a while. And then we reclaimed the planet,” she finished with a content smile on her face.

“But you– you take off your helmet,” Omera said quietly. Some villagers nodded.

Bo-Katan glanced at Din and then spoke to the rest of the villagers. “Most Mandalorians are actually free to take off their helmets whenever. When the Purge of Mandalore happened, most of our people were killed, but Din’s covert was settled on Concordia, so they survived. His Tribe follows the old Way of the Mandalore, which doesn’t allow them to show their faces. Or rather, not take their helmets off in the presence of others.” Din Djarin was honestly pleasantly surprised. She’d come a long way from calling him a religious zealot.

“During my time with the Tribe, I lived as they did. But there were specific circumstances since legends were coming true and I was the rightful leader of Mandalore. And so the Armourer used her station to allow me to walk both worlds. My clan and the Nite Owls are not held to the helmet rule, but I still try to be respectful in presence of the Tribe and put my helmet back on if I’m the only one without. And all of us wear our helmets for special ceremonies, but that’s probably too much detail for all of you,” she finished up, realizing that some of the villagers were whispering amongst themselves and distracted. Din leaned towards her and whispered, “I don’t think it registered that they were in the vicinity of THE Lady Kryze of Mandalore.”

Once Bo-Katan finally managed to convince the others to not treat her any differently, the rest of the afternoon passed smoothly. It was a very easy-going atmosphere, and Din almost forgot why Bo and the others were here on Sorgan. He and the other members of the Tribe stepped away quietly to eat their meals, and no one noticed. Well, almost no one. Omera’s eyes followed him, but he tried not to look back at her to draw further attention to whatever was happening between them.

Din was cleaning out his blaster as Omera approached him.

“Hi.” She suddenly got shy and worried he’d shoot her down before she even asked the question. So her next words came out hesitantly, “I have no love for the Empire. Could I join your scouting party? I won’t get involved.”

Din considered it for a moment. His body language gave nothing away. Without turning around, he raised his voice, “Hey Bo?”

“What?” came the reply from the nearby Gauntlet.

Omera tried not to fidget as Bo-Katan approached. The man still had his gaze (well, helmet) focused on her, and she felt like she had done something wrong by asking.

He waited as Bo-Katan came up to him before asking, “How would you feel about Omera joining us today?” Finally taking his eyes off the person in question, he added, “She’s a pretty good shot, and if we could use her skills later, I’d rather have her come along tonight to be prepared.”

Bo-Katan initially looked a bit taken aback before she schooled her features. She then scrutinized Omera for what felt like an interminable length of time but was actually no longer than twenty seconds. Her eyes shifting back to Din Djarin, she communicated silently with him. Her brows furrowed, she tilted her head and raised her brows as if to say, You sure you know what you’re doing, bringing a civilian along?

Din only gave his usual curt nod in response. And that was that. Bo-Katan must have accepted his nod since she got on with preparations, but not before addressing Omera. “You will have to follow all of our instructions immediately. Do you have anything more comfortable to wear for the mission?”

Omera looked unsure and voiced her doubts. Bo-Katan walked up close and quickly eyed her up and down. “You look about my size. Come with me, I might have something you could change into.”

Din continued to tune up his weapons and only looked back up when the nearby Nite Owls went silent. Bo-Katan walked off the ship with Omera in tow, except she was now wearing Mandalorian armor on her torso. Bo-Katan had lent her a flight suit and found the armor one of the starving survivors left on the Gauntlet from their retaking of Mandalore. It fit Omera surprisingly well, and if it wasn’t for the lack of helmet and missing smaller pieces of armor, she would look the part of a Mandalorian warrior. Bo-Katan said she’d try to look around for some other pieces before they headed out, but she wasn’t sure if there was anything else left after the Armourer melted down the remains. Omera assured her that she was grateful for the attire provided.

Din realized he was goggling at Omera and, with an effort, looked away. She materialized in front of him anyway, and he had to really focus on the weapon in his hands.

“I didn’t realize she’d just let me come along,” she spoke meekly, and the juxtaposition of the warrior outfit and her attitude made Din regard her in understanding. She must have felt like she had large shoes to fill, a sentiment he had experienced only too recently with the Darksaber.

“She trusts my judgment.”

“Thank you,” was the only thing she said in response.

He tried to reassure her. “We’re only going to scout out the base today, and we’ll try to keep you far from the action when we actually go on the offensive. Maybe we won’t even need your services, but I just want to make sure we’re covering all our bases. If you don’t want to do it anymore, just say the word and we will understand.”

“No, I do.”

“Good. You’ll do great. Just follow my lead and if anyone directs you to do something, please follow the instructions quickly. If I say to hide, don’t come out until one of us tells you to come out. If we say to run and leave us, you have to do exactly that.”

She looked distressed. Oops. He didn’t mean to make her more uneasy. “That’s not to say that will happen. Like I said, I just want to prepare you and stress the importance of following our instructions.”

She nodded and answered in the affirmative.

Bo-Katan appeared in front of her again as the sun set and produced two arm vambraces and a helmet that had been tucked away under a bench. They had clearly seen their share of action. The former didn’t have too many tools included in them, but they would do the job. Omera accepted the additional armor gratefully, and Din helped her put them on. The Din Djarin standing in close proximity to her was completely different than the man who stood across from her that afternoon. His actions were coolheaded, and his hands moved with expert ease, so sure of their movements. It was honestly impressive to see, and Omera tried not to react in any way that would have made her feelings too obvious. He finally helped her set up the intercom communicator before telling her the equipment was ready.

“Test test,” he spoke in her ear.

She gave him a thumbs up. Consistent with his quiet manner of speaking, she responded into the microphone, “Loud and clear.”

They made arrangements so that Grogu and Winta could stay with Stoke for the evening.

“Sorry, buddy, but I think you should sit this one out. You were a great help on Mandalore, but you had IG-12. I don’t want to risk leaving you behind somewhere if we need to get out of there quickly. This is our chance to take out the rest of the Imperial soldiers from our planet. Stay here and rest up. I can tell you’re still exhausted from the other day.”

Grogu’s ears drooped a little, but he reached out his little clawed hand and pressed it to his father’s helmet. Din set him down, and the little one burrowed into the bundle of blankets that made up his small bed at Stoke’s home.

As twilight settled in, the group of Mandalorians gathered in the clearing and proposed the plan of action. Din and Omera would check out the camp entrance and figure out the best distance at which they would be able to have Omera stationed so that she could help with escapees. She would be the last resort, and depending on tonight’s excursion, they might place someone else nearby to help. Their task for tonight was to also monitor the road in case any stragglers would be coming back from town. The others would stake out closer locations surrounding the encampment and find any additional infiltration routes.

With a last check-in for Omera to verify she still wanted to go, they headed out on foot.

Everything went according to plan.

Until it didn’t.

Din and Omera separated from the others fairly early on, and they checked out several locations where they could have Omera hide out near the entrance. Everything was quiet. They were waiting for the others to wrap up, and they were keeping an eye on the road. The others regrouped behind the encampment to discuss a secondary infill location. Din was only partially paying attention to the conversation since he had done a quick walkabout himself and agreed with the others’ assessment. His current primary focus was on the route back from town, and he was tuning out the voices carrying from the encampment. It sounded like the soldiers were letting off some steam. He was looking at the faint lights filtering in through the greenery when he heard Bo-Katan’s voice raised in alarm over the intercom.

“Din,” his mind snapped back to full attention to the voice in his ear. “They’re coming your way!” Damn, why were they going out so late?

He looked to Omera and observed the tense set of her shoulders and arms. “Stay low,” he commanded in a hushed voice to Omera. They used the trees for cover, and the darkness did the rest.

He saw the soldiers walk out of the encampment in the distance. They were carrying the cloaks that they were planning to put on before they got into town. Six total. When they got in range, he appraised their threat levels. The profiles of the beskar-clad soldiers were less bright in the dark forest due to the gray tint of the armor. There were three in beskar armor and only two still had blasters attached at their hips, being off duty. He communicated as such to the others in case they had to come to their aid. The soldiers lit a light when they set off from the encampment.

As they got close, he noticed that the men were rowdy and at least one was unsteady on his feet. It seemed like they would walk on by. Yet, luck was not with them, and one of them suddenly remembered that they were wearing their helmets that they forgot to stash back at camp. Since the soldiers would need to lose the helmets prior to getting into town, they approached the edge of the forest path close to where the two were hiding. Too close. Din was nervous that his reflective armor would give them away.

“Back up, back up,” he said in a hushed tone. They moved backwards, further into the trees. A branch snapped underneath, and it sounded like a shot going off to his ears.

One of the soldiers spoke up, “What was that?”

Shoot. “We might need backup.”

“Coming your way.”

The soldiers spread out and lifted the torch to hit a larger area. “Found someone!” Din worried about the volume at which the declaration was made, but in the coming minutes, no one else exited the camp.

Six soldiers surrounded them on three sides. Din tried to block Omera from as many of them as he could. They continued to be boisterous. One gloated, “Looks like we have some Mandos looking for another fight! There’s six of us and based on her lackluster outfit, there’s only one of you.”

Even though I haven’t reloaded my whistling birds, “I like those odds,” he said confidently. His voice was icy cold, and Omera would not want to be on his bad side right now. He slowly unholstered his second blaster and discreetly handed it back to her. He hoped the shadow of his cape masked the movement. She grasped it tightly.

The soldiers weren’t joking as much after his declaration. It looked like they were calculating their odds when one of the men fired off a shot from a blaster. Din moved to cover Omera and let his chest-plate take the hit. At this close range, the shoulder kicked back, and another well-aimed blast hit his glove and weapon. The latter flew out of his hand, and pain stung his fingers.

In the meantime, Omera took aim from behind him and shot one durasteel-armor soldier in the chest, who fell, dropping his weapon. Not pausing to reflect, she took aim again and hit one of the more heavily-armored troopers. Unfortunately, they only flinched back with the hit.

Din shook off the pain in his hand, grabbed the vibro-blade from his boot, and launched himself at a nearby armed beskar-clad warrior, who managed to let off a few blaster shots before Din Djarin got close enough to tackle him to the ground. Quickly grabbing his jaw underneath the helmet, he twisted his neck in a quick motion. Not sure where the soldier’s blaster fell, he lamented the loss of the weapon, but nonetheless appreciated that the Imperials were now disarmed of their two available blasters.

He then tucked and rolled on the uneven ground and knocked the feet out of another fighter. The source of light flew off in a random direction and flickered out.

Prioritizing the beskar-troopers, Din opted for changing targets from the soldier who took a tumble to the beskar-trooper further away. He jumped to his feet and swung the vibro-blade towards less-armored areas. His blade glanced off the beskar in the dark, and he heard Omera gasp over the intercom. With renewed vigor, Din re-envisioned the target areas of the current soldier in his mind and hit home on the second attempt. He pierced a couple more vital areas on this body before moving on.

Din heard Omera’s heavy breaths as she fought off the others. He couldn’t see her in the dark, but he heard a soldier wheeze, so he figured she was at least holding her own against one of them. Before he could take more than a couple steps towards where he last heard her, he sensed another shape approaching from his left. With a quick spin, he kicked out hard. Hearing a groan, Din reached out where he expected the soldier's head to be. He groped around and found the helmet of the soldier doubling over in pain. Pulling that off, he used all his strength to slam the soldier’s face into his own beskar cuissard. As the man fell, he stomped down on his face with his heavy boots.

"Four down," he reported over the intercom.

Omera, meanwhile, got flanked by a soldier. He grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides, and pulled the gun out of her hands. He then lifted her into the air. She gasped in surprise but, on instinct, kicked out. Her feet connected with the chest of a different assailant in the dark, and she heard a winded breath and cough. The force of the kick sent the soldier holding her backwards, and they collided with a tree. He loosened his hold with the impact, and she heard the clatter of her weapon. She squirmed and got an arm free. Mustering as much strength as she could, she slammed his head against the tree still behind him. After several hits, she was able to get out of his grip and groped around for the fallen blaster.

Branches, leaves, rocks. No weapon. Finally, her fingers brushed a sliver of the cold barrel. She found a purchase on it and picked it up.

In alarm, she saw two shapes heading towards her. A rapid look down to her feet showed that the disoriented soldier was still there, which meant one of the approaching shapes was Din. She whispered, “Duck!” hoping her ally would react appropriately. She saw a shadow crouch down, and she quickly took aim at the other upright shape. She hit her mark, and another body fell.

The shadow that she now knew was Din straightened up and approached cautiously. “Where’s the last one?” A long thin shape stretched toward her, so she held her hand out in front of her to connect with his searching fingers. “By my feet. He’s still alive.”

Din Djarin made quick work of the last beskar-soldier by stabbing him with the vibro-blade.

His left hand found Omera’s once again, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. “Six targets dispatched,” he announced over the intercom. Then, quieter, “You alright?”

He faced her, and her other arm found his wrist. She purposely avoided touching his injured right hand. “Yeah, are you? How’s your hand?”

“It’s… been better.” He could feel her starting to shake now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. He put his left arm around her and leaned in. Their foreheads connected with a soft clank. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was cognizant that it was a Keldabe kiss, but he was too relieved to care. She wasn’t hurt, and that was all that mattered. He relished the feel of her nearby as they stood together in the darkness. His presence appeared to be calming her as well.

They heard the approaching footsteps and separated. Din thanked all the deities that existed that this was a covert operation and they couldn't risk being seen from the encampment. So no lights.

They turned towards the steps and counted the number of shapes closing in just in case.

“What happened to your hand?” questioned Bo-Katan.

“One of the beskar-troopers had annoying-good aim. He shot at the weapon I was holding and grazed my gloved fingers.” As an afterthought he added, “My dominant hand too.”

“Can you move them?”

“I had to, and I can still, but I would prefer not to at least until I can get some bacta spray.”

“Then we should get back quickly. Let’s make sure to clean up any evidence of the ambush and recover our weapons. Leave no trace.”

Din listed off what he remembered, “They all had helmets, 2 blasters, and cloaks.”

“And one torch,” added Omera.

Except for the rustle of the undergrowth, they worked quietly. Despite being injured, Din Djarin pulled his weight and they were able to collect all the items and bodies. They moved the latter further into the woods and covered them with first the cloaks and then some foliage to camouflage them. Afterwards, the team made their way back to Omera’s village.

The return trip was uneventful. They debriefed on the Gauntlet while the bacta spray worked its magic on Din’s hand. Part of him wished he had IG-11 with him, but he had to make do with limited amounts from their emergency supplies. The small amount of bacta spray was better than nothing though and distracted him from the pain.

Bo-Katan kept throwing furtive glances at Omera, and Din figured she had been watching her closely since they regrouped in the woods. That particular conversation could wait till morning.

Before retreating to their respective sleeping whereabouts, Bo-Katan established the tentative timetable for the next day’s mission. The ambush forced their hand, but they were confident they could wrap up their operation before mid-day. Because the soldiers were drinking and partying, it wouldn’t be a stretch that some of them ended up at a nearby bordello. Settlements larger than a village throughout the galaxy all had similar forms of entertainment. The Mandalorians might be able to get away with the town-bound soldiers’ absence going unnoticed till maybe noon. Any later, and it would get suspicious.

Din tried to sleep. He really did. But every time he calmed his mind, he recalled Omera’s gasp of surprise and saw soldiers circling her in his head. Tired of the same vision every time he closed his eyes, he got up and went to sit at her door as a self-assigned sentry.

He kept watch until exhaustion pulled him under just as the sky was getting lighter.

Din only got a few hours of light sleep. He was startled awake by Omera exiting her home after sunrise, and his left hand found the trigger before he realized she wasn't a threat.

She was still wearing the flight suit. Glancing around, she joined him at his side. Neither of them spoke until –

“I’m sorry I put you in harm’s way. If you hadn’t known how to defend yourself and gotten hurt or worse, I don’t think I could have forgiven myself.”

In lieu of a response, he felt a featherlight touch on the back of his hand. Omera was turning it over to see the injury.

"It looks much better."

"I've been saved from a much worse fate by bacta spray," recalling Moff Gideon's attack on the old cantina-turned-school. He wiggled the fingers without any pain.

Deciding he would not be getting any more sleep, he sat up taller. “We should probably go get Winta and Grogu."

"Stoke loves Winta like his own daughter, and I'm pretty sure no one minds Grogu. He’s usually such a well-behaved child."

That conversation topic at a quick close, Din Djarin decided to broach the topic that had been on his mind since he had seen how well she'd handled herself last night.

"So. You can fight too." He meant it as a question, but it came out more as a statement. He chanced a glance at her. If it was up to Din, Omera could keep her secrets, but Bo-Katan will want to know. Bo-Katan was already wary of her sudden self-defense skills in addition to the sharpshooter ability. Din had spent enough time with Omera to recognize she was not an adversary.

“I was trained a long time ago. I left that life, and I don’t think I’d want to go back. Even– ” Even for you.

She clammed up and didn’t say anything else.

After a minute of silence, Din asked, “Can I see?”

She was taken aback. She must have believed he would not want anything to do with her if she didn’t open up. “Right now?”

“Let’s get you suited up.”

She collected her armor from the night before and made quick work of putting on the gear. Din grabbed her helmet and walked to the clearing near where the two starships stood. He took off his blasters and jetpack and deposited them at the edge of the glade. Before handing her the helmet, he stated, “Some ground rules: We are to stop short of extremely-damaging blows, particularly because I’ll be giving you one of my vibro-blades. Let’s avoid uncovered areas like our hands since we know they are unprotected. Because your gauntlets don’t have the same tools as mine, I will refrain from using them. I will start off with pulling punches, but if you can handle it, I will ramp up in difficulty. If we need to stop, we will call for a halt. That sound good?”

She looked excited, which was not an emotion he expected to see on the face of a simple villager. He took out one of the vibro-blades and showed where she could store it in between attacks. Her helmet clicked into place, and he backed off, waiting for her to make the first move.

She charged at him and drew the blade with a flash. Din stood his ground and used his gauntlets to block the thrust of the blade. The sound of beskar-on-beskar reverberated through the early morning air. She raised the blade again and used a feinting maneuver. He blocked it at the last moment and retaliated with his own. She angled her body and let her armor take the hit. They traded hits with no one getting the upper hand, attacks glancing off their armor. Switching his hold on the blade, he began to rely more on hand-to-hand combat, but he kept the blade for defense. She was slowly backing up but still managing to parry his blows. She periodically threw in a vibro-blade counter attack, but after it got knocked out of her hands, he sheathed his own.

Deciding to take it up a notch, Din began to add leg attacks to the mix. With a twirl, he kicked out and knocked her back, but she controlled her fall and somersaulted into a crouching position. They continued to spar, not noticing the small group of people coming to watch. When he attempted to use the same kick attack again, she dodged it and tried to get the upper hand. He circled her and pinned her arms to her sides, not unlike how she got caught the night before. She froze, and for a second Din worried if he’d hurt her, but she dropped her head and swung back with all her might. He grunted and unintentionally slacked his grip. She elbowed him, and with a quick sleight of hand took control of his sheathed vibro-blade.

He stood on guard and stared at the blade in her fingers. He checked, and she had indeed stolen his weapon. He gave her a nod of approval. She was gaining confidence, and this was getting enjoyable. He found himself smiling under his helmet. Clearly, he needed to ramp it up some more.

He added more force behind his hits, which resulted in her recoiling back more with each direct hit. She relied more on the vambraces to take the brunt of and stave off full-force attacks. She added a few kicks of her own, though they weren’t particularly well aimed.

Finally, he advanced on her with a quick push and got the complete upper hand. She fell, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling in time. He offered his ungloved hand to pull her up, and she took it. Not wanting to let go, but needing both hands to remove the helmet, she released her hold.

Omera pulled her helmet off, and her eyes sparkled. She had the most exuberant expression, and Din praised her skills. The group of Mandalorians watching from the Gauntlet knocked their vambraces against each other in what she supposed was their version of a clap. Din joined in with a deep nod in her direction. Some of the onlookers clapped and cheered as well. Her face darkened with a blush, but the smile stayed.

Bo-Katan drew near. “I was cheering for you the entire time.” Din was not offended. He had been too. “But where did you learn to fight like that?”

“I–” she was still catching her breath, but the smile started to slip off the face with her nervousness. She glanced quickly at Din and again at Bo-Katan. She was visibly tense as she inhaled and exhaled a shaky breath. Making up her mind, she gave Bo-Katan a dead-on stare and said, “I was a foundling.” She looked to Din Djarin but couldn’t see his reaction underneath the helmet. Bo-Katan’s eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly.

“The person who raised me was a disciple of Rook Kast,” Bo-Katan bristled but stayed silent, letting Omera continue. I think she found the Children of the Watch and stayed with them for a time because some of your customs are familiar to me,” she gestured at Din. “Except she must have left the Watch and twisted the Creed to be consistent with what she was taught. Her teachings were wicked, and she was violent. She wanted to continue the work of Rook Kast. I did not want to fight with the other Mandalorians, and I refused to kill for her cause. I deserted and was on my own for a time. I traded away the armor, found a home here, and settled down. I completely forgot that way of living until you showed up all those months ago.” She smiled at Din.

After her explanation, things began to make more sense to Din. Her lack of questions on his unusual mannerisms. Her not pressing him to take off his armor after that one time when he’d hesitated in rejecting her offer and she almost succeeded in unmasking him. Her unique skillset and the way she carried herself, quietly as if she’d been trained to do so. That time she almost slipped up and said, “This is the Way,” in response to him caring for and adopting his foundling.

He then remembered her words. I left that life, and I don’t think I’d want to go back. He was saddened because she had her home here, and his was on Nevarro. Technically, Mandalore too if he ever wanted to settle with the Tribe.

After her story, Bo-Katan was the first to speak up. “Mandalorians are stronger together, so I’m glad the twisted ways of the Shadow Collective could not taint your own personal beliefs. I wish our paths crossed back then. You would have made a decent Nite Owl!” she smiled.

The two Children of the Watch, who up till then had been the most withdrawn, passed her and comfortingly patted her shoulder. The Nite Owls smiled and nodded to her. Din was as cryptic as usual, but she thought she noticed him inclining his head at her.

With that big reveal out of the way, Omera felt less like an impostor and was very relieved to have the truth out in the open. Even more so now since they needed to trust one another for their mission.

Despite her newly-revealed skills, Bo-Katan still opted for having her remain in the sniper role, further out from camp, picking off escaping Imperials. Her reasoning was that Omera didn’t have as much armor as everyone else, and the rest of the group had previously worked together and knew how to back each other up. Omera largely agreed, though she would have loved to see the Nite Owls and the Watch in action.

As the others dealt with last-minute preparations, Omera went to find Din. She found him with Grogu, talking softly with him.

He looked up at her and said, “Ready to go?”

He motioned for her to go first and ducked his head through the barn doorway. They walked side by side, arms almost brushing. She wondered what he really thought about her admission and whether that changed things between them.

Din led them to his starship and picked up his new gloves. She noticed him playing with them last night and watched as he massaged the leather, put them on, and continued to work the natural bends of the gloves as they walked.

She had found a pair of old gloves for herself, and she had borrowed a couple weapons from the others - a vibro-blade, a blaster, and a rifle. The latter was over her shoulder, but it felt too unnatural as it had been a long time since she’d been battle-ready like this.

They met with the others and briefly went over the objective. Their small group made their way through the woods to the encampment again. Omera fell back earlier as she would not be joining the others within the walls of the camp. Din gave her a parting look and said, “Take care” under his breath. She inclined her head in return. Stealth was of the utmost importance, especially considering they did not have the cover of darkness today.

Omera watched the others split off into twos and saw Din and Bo-Katan silently flank the two sides of the main entrance and take turns to peer through the opening one at a time. Bo-Katan flinched back after doing so and pressed her back to the partition and shook her head at Din. The comlink came to life as the others confirmed their getting into position.

Once everyone had checked in, the comlink came to life with static, and Omera heard three distinct hisses. Long, short, long. Morse code? That must have meant something to the others because Koska’s voice came over the intercom. Well, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. “Remember to use your vibro-blades for as long as you can, unless we hear them sound the alarm and we’d been discovered. Watch your partner’s six. Move out!”

Bo-Katan chanced a quick look into the camp again and counted down for Din. At the right moment, Din whirled around the entrance and within a second dragged out a lifeless body of the soldier that must have been just on the inside. They both glanced around the wooden fence again and nodded to each other. Bo-Katan motioned to him, and he executed the action. It was fascinating to see them communicate with nothing but gestures. How long had they known each other to work this well together? She was a bit disappointed that she’d never have that with him. Unless… No. She had a life here. She couldn’t put her daughter in danger, and Winta wouldn’t adjust well.

Omera’s job was fairly simple, but with no one leaving the camp, there wasn’t much for her to do at the moment. She continued to watch the entrance, periodically seeing one of the Mandalorians move furtively through her field of vision via the gap in the walls.

She heard a few agitated birds take to the air closer to town and furrowed her brow in concentration, alert for anyone coming back from town.

There! Two soldiers in cloaks far off in the distance walking briskly and talking amongst themselves. Glancing in the direction of the entrance, she didn’t see any movement. All was quiet. She made a decision and left her post, keeping to the trees and periodically checking behind her for any escapees. She ran as far back as she dared and repositioned herself closer to the approaching duo. She didn’t trust her neglected skills to take on both of them in broad daylight with just a vibro-blade, so she had to rely on her rifle.

She settled down and tried to quiet her breathing, but there wasn’t much she could do for her erratic heart. She relayed a warning to the Mandalorians and took aim with the rifle. Their original assumption was that if people were running from camp that an alarm had already been sounded. But the closer the pair approached, the more likely the remaining soldiers would be alerted to the Mandalorians’ offensive if the shots sounded. Adjusting her grip, she took off her right-hand glove and used her bare fingers to trace the shape of the trigger.

Her heart pounded in her ears. With a final exhale to compose herself, she pulled the trigger. Before the second figure knew what was happening, she sent a bullet flying through him as well. He fell and struggled to breathe, yet his hand groped for his belt. Scanning all around her, she ran out from behind the trees and finished the soldier off with the blade.

Updating the others with a quick, “Two targets down,” she retreated towards her original hiding spot in the brush. Every sound set her on edge as she watched both ends of the forest path vigilantly.

Blaster shots rang out from the camp, and yells could be heard. Using the scope, she saw one of the Nite Owls hiding behind a tent and an Imperial soldier stalking the hidden warror only a few tents away. Blaming herself for alerting the Imperials, she snuck closer and used the cover of the entrance to take out the soldier just as he was almost on top of the Nite Owl.

Suddenly, there was a big commotion in the center of the camp. Din and Bo were surrounded by almost a dozen soldiers, some armed with blasters, but that didn't seem to phase them. They were holding their ground and disarming them at impressive speeds. Din and Bo-Katan were back to back, sparring with enemies surrounding them. She watched Din take blaster shots to his armor to protect Bo-Katan on more than one occasion. It didn’t escape Omera that he’d thrown himself in front of the blaster for her as well the night before.

She noticed one of the Nite Owls watching the scuffle as well, but when she saw that the pair were holding their own and getting the upper hand, she moved on. Against her wishes, Omera did the same. As the soldiers began to see they could not win against the Mandalorian onslaught, they ran towards her, and she and a Child of the Watch took out another four men.

“I think that was most of them! Spread out and look for anyone else,” declared Bo-Katan, not looking any worse for wear. Her fighting skills were really commendable. Din noticed Omera and gestured for her to hold her position at the entrance. They found one soldier attempting to escape via the back entrance. After confirming that everyone was dispatched, they looted the surplus supplies, weapons caches, and nearby transports the soldiers had used to relocate to this planet. Everything was brought back to the village.

Bo-Katan insisted on dividing the supplies amongst both the Mandalorians and villagers to share the wealth. The krill farmers didn’t have as much need for weapons, so Din ended up adding quite a few into the storage compartment on his N-1. He was nowhere near having the stockpile he used to have aboard his Razor Crest, but he had plenty of extras now and would be able to arm a small team with extras to spare.

That night, a small celebration was held in honor of the Mandalorian party vanquising the Imperial remnants. The children and Grogu had a smaller fire nearby, and their giggles could be heard from the larger gathering.

Din tried not to get caught gazing at Omera, but he usually found himself looking in her direction out of the corner of his visor. She’d experienced a newfound popularity and befriended both the Nite Owls and Children of the Watch. She sat chatting with a Watch member he’d only ever heard referred to as Vera. The two of them had been joined by Koska, and they laughed at something together.

“--Din?”

“Whu-what?” he floundered and tried to remember what Bo-Katan was talking about.

She smiled at him. “It looks like I've interrupted a deep thought, haven’t I?”

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

“I don’t blame you.” He looked straight at her. With a mischievous look, she continued, “Invite her to Mandalore.”

Realizing he wouldn’t be able to hide his thoughts from her as he could from most people, he sighed. How did Bo-Katan read him like a book? “She told me a couple days ago that she wouldn’t want to go back to her old life. I didn’t know what she’d meant at the time, but there’s no question it was about her life as a Mandalorian.”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask outright.” When he didn’t respond, she pressed on. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever heard of Rook Kast, but she was a scary individual. I fought against her during the Siege of Mandalore, and if her teachings were forced upon Omera, then it’s a marvel that she didn’t end up like her trainer. She seems like a good person. She might appear soft spoken, but she will stand up for herself, so don’t feel like you’d be able to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

“Maybe.”

“What about you? When were you planning on returning back to Mandalore? We could use your help for a bit. I know Grogu needs your guidance as an apprentice, but people look up to you and see you as a leader. Not just the Children of the Watch either! I would appreciate you helping out.”

“I can come by in a couple of weeks.”

Bo-Katan stopped responding without notice, and Din looked at her. She was silently signaling Koska to come over with a soft smile. “Great! Here’s your chance to talk to her!” and she gave him a soft shove toward Omera.

At the first available moment Koska’s seat was vacated, Din Djarin found his way next to her. He spoke up in his quiet manner, “Thank you for your help with all of this. Especially for taking care of those soldiers coming from the town.”

She hung her head and withdrew a bit. “I basically sounded the alarm.”

“What? Not at all,” he placed a gentle hand on her arm. “You warned us as you were supposed to, and sure, the sound carrying from outside the camp tipped off the soldiers, but we knew that could happen. Your warning gave us a chance to take cover. Please don’t blame yourself. You did your job, and you kept us out of harm’s way.”

She looked at his visor with a reassured look on her face and responded shyly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. They leaned into each other, making small talk for the rest of the night. She knew there were topics they should talk through, but as the night went on and neither addressed them, she did her best to postpone sad thoughts at his impending departure.

Winta made her way to the mother and hugged her sleepily. Omera got up and was pleasantly surprised when Din said he’d join her. He looked around for his adopted son and noticed him sleeping in Bo-Katan’s lap. As he took a few steps toward the two, Bo-Katan shooed him away and said he could collect him tomorrow.

That was how they found themselves slowly walking back to her home. Winta was barely awake on her feet, and Omera asked him to wait up for her as she put her daughter to bed.

He sat at the entrance to the barn and thought about his adventures the last few days. Who had known that he’d be here on Sorgan again?

“Thanks for not pressing me to tell you my secret,” Omera said softly as he approached.

He looked up. “I figured you’d tell me in time. That was quite the secret.”

“I’m sorry I kept it from you. I wasn’t sure what you’d think of me since you had spent so much of your life never showing your face to anyone and yet I ditched the helmet as soon as I had the chance.”

“I took off my helmet too, remember?”

“Yeah, but I did it knowing I had no intention to go back. In a way, living on this small planet was supposed to be my punishment, except that I found a life here.”

“You have to be able to live with your decisions. I chose to walk the Way of the Mandalore and to get back on that path when I strayed.” He hesitated. “I have changed a lot in the last few months. I think if you’d revealed your past to me the first time we met, my reaction would have been completely different. Before I met the Nite Owls, like you, I didn’t know any other path. Bo-Katan helped me see that there are many other kinds of Mandalorians.”

“How did you meet?”

“She saved my life on Trask.”

“Again? She seems to do that a lot,” Omera said, amused.

“She really does… she saved both of us before Mandalore. I was ambushed by some Quarrens for my beskar armor, and we almost drowned. She was trying to gather ships for her fleet, and I owed her. We did not get along at first. We were very different, and we kept butting heads, but as we spent more time with each other, we somehow became unlikely friends.

“I accidentally earned a weapon in battle that she coveted, and for a while I worried she'd try to reclaim it. But she didn’t. She refused to fight, like you, even though I was a stranger who did not hold her beliefs. She might be set in her own ways, but when she changes her mind, she is not afraid to speak up. She has ceaselessly claimed that our differences make us stronger, and I saw firsthand just how right she was during our battles on Mandalore.”

“You speak of her so earnestly.” Omera took a chance and brought up the other topic. “Should I be jealous?”

Din glanced at her and understood the real question underneath her jesting tone. “I value her friendship and will follow her as our leader. She is an impressive person, and you two are similar in that sense, but I don’t feel the same way about her as I do about you.”

Din felt his heartbeat quicken as he took off his glove and intertwined his fingers with hers. He softly brushed his thumb on her skin, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling.

After a moment, he broke the silence, “Though I know how I feel, I’m at a loss as to how to proceed. You have said that you wouldn’t go back to that life. At the risk of sounding like a scughole, asking you to uproot your life for me, would you want to come to Mandalore?”

She gazed at the spot on the visor where Din’s eyes would be. He saw her swallow and tried not to feel the dismay at her imminent rejection.

“While the last couple of days have shown me that I have allies there, and I would probably be able to make a life for myself, I am not sure Winta would be able to do the same.”

He understood. He hated it, but he understood. “I remember how hard it was for me to acclimate at first. I had a caring mentor and teacher, but I adjusted quickly because I had no other choice. That wouldn’t be the case with Winta.”

She nodded. “I think I know the answer to this, but would you be able to stay here with me?”

He sighed, and turned completely towards her, tucking his leg under him for comfort. “I’m too used to the life of a bounty hunter. Even staying here for those couple short months back then made me restless. I am too used to flying around the galaxy and doing odd jobs. And Grogu needs to train as my apprentice. I would come to hate it.”

They sat in silence, thinking the same thing. Is there really no way to make it work? Din’s heart pounded away in his chest, hurting him the longer they couldn’t find a solution. She looked tired and eventually bade him good night, her voice low and sad. He continued to sit on the platform by her house, and he looked up at the sky full of stars. He just couldn’t give up traversing the galaxy. He was a wanderer, and the vast space was one of his great loves.

Sighing, he got up and noticed that the celebratory bonfire burned low, but a shape remained in the fading light. He headed towards the flickering embers, part of him wanting to find someone to distract him from his thoughts but at the same time unwilling to talk about what’s bothering him.

Bo-Katan’s eyes followed his forlorn steps to a nearby seat. She sat up, stared at him for a few seconds, and said, “You’re making me sad just looking at you. What happened?”

“We couldn’t come to a consensus about how to make it work.” He gave in and told her the options they’d considered and hung his head, arms leaning on his knees. If he did not have a helmet on, he’d undoubtedly be tearing his hair out. “Even if we could figure out how to live near each other, I can’t just turn off my belief in the Creed. I want to continue to follow the path, and while I know the way to redeem myself, I do not wish to stray from the Way every time I see her.”

“To me, it sounds like there are two separate problems. One is about what you call home, and the second is your feelings contending against your beliefs. I think I have a solution for one, but the other will take some time to adjust.”

“I don’t have a permanent home though.”

“That is true, yet you are not a vagabond. You used to have a permanent home on the Razor Crest, but since the new starship is not as large, you have two locations that you use as a temporary home - Nevarro and Mandalore.”

“...yes,” he hesitated.

“So what’s to stop you from adding a third temporary home on Sorgan?”

“What kind of life is that for her? I wouldn’t be around all the time.”

“But as a bounty hunter, you wouldn’t be around anyway as your work takes you all over the galaxy. If you have this planet to call another temporary home, you are free to stop by as often as you’d like and spend all the time you need here.”

That got Din thinking, and Bo-Katan did have a point. Why not call this another home? If Omera was okay with this solution, no one would need to permanently move to a completely new planet to have the other more involved in their life. If they felt the same way about each other and were willing to work on it, this seemed like a viable solution.

“I think she could come around to this,” already markedly less stressed after finding a solution to one of the issues bothering him.

“Good! And now for the second problem. I'm betting you’re not gonna like what I’m about to say.”

He looked wearily at her. “Why?” He leaned back in his suspicion.

“Remember when I joined the covert and then the Armourer announced that I’d be walking both worlds?”

“How could I? It really threw me when I saw you had taken off the helmet. It looked like you were content to follow the Creed but then unexpectedly rejected it. When the Armourer explained what she had in mind, it was justifiable. Particularly because of her station.”

“I saw a Mythosaur.”

“What. Where? In the depths of the Living Waters?” He sat up in surprise.

“Yes.” Bo-Katan gave him a moment to take that in before continuing. “I confided in the Armourer after Ragnar’s rescue, and she told me she believed the Mythosaur was a sign that we’ve entered a new age for Mandalore. A new era for our people. The point of gathering all of us together was and still is to bring our culturally different groups to one planet and under one Creed. Our people have always been diverse, sometimes even coming from different species, but we are all connected by our following the Way of the Mandalore, whether literally or figuratively.”

Din listened quietly, not quite sure where she was going with this. “I think for someone like me who had generations of family living on Mandalore, at some point it became more about the bloodline and birthright. For someone who is a foundling, I can see how following the Creed to the T would help identify you as one of us. Because when you’re a foundling, you don’t have the bloodline to fall back on, just your beliefs. If you follow the Creed, you can keep the helmet on and be part of the Tribe. The helmet then becomes part of your identity even when Mandalorians are living all over the galaxy. Stop me if you disagree.”

Din listened intently. He was with her so far.

“As you pointed out to me not too long ago, the honor of being part of the Tribe and loyalty to the Creed and Tribe is what drives you. And character is equally as important to the Children of the Watch. But riddle me this: is taking off your helmet for the people you care for selfish? Is it uncaring? You were so overcome with your feelings for Grogu when saying goodbye to him on Moff Gideon’s cruiser that you took off your helmet. You saw that as a moment of weakness, but the rest of us saw strength: you nobly took off your helmet when your foundling was afraid to take the next step. You gave him the strength to carry on and the comfort that he so desperately needed from you. You said you follow me because of my character. A trait that made me a good Mandalorian, despite taking off my helmet. Protecting or saving a foundling is one of the highest honors of the Creed. Following that logic, you are also a genuine Mandalorian. Particularly because you’ve followed the Way for most of your life.”

Bo-Katan stopped her impassioned speech and waited for Din Djarin to say something. She wished she could see his face to see how he was taking all of this. He told her he understood her on the land-ship on Mandalore and would follow her loyally, and now she was returning the favor to help him see a different perspective regarding himself.

Not hearing protests (or anything at all, really), she made her final point. “At what point do you stop needing to prove yourself? You have a home on Mandalore now too. At any rate, that was all a very long-winded way of saying that you are just as deserving of the title of Mandalorian as someone who was born on the planet. I truly and honestly believe that. So I think that if the Armourer can ease up on the helmet rules, you probably can too.”

There was no lie in Bo-Katan’s eyes, and she said everything so sincerely that Din wanted to believe her. He believed that she meant every word she said. It was very reassuring to hear someone of her station say all of that. Especially when he knew how much she used to have her misgivings about him and his beliefs. He knew it would take time for him to come around to her way of thinking, and it would definitely be a gradual process. But he thought he understood what she was getting at. What did he tell Omera earlier? You have to be able to live with your decisions. Bo-Katan certainly gave him a lot to think about.

“Tha– Thank you,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat. For her to defend him like that, especially from himself, was everything. He was grateful that they stuck up their unexpected friendship and that he chose to follow her. He couldn’t think of anyone who deserved the title of Mand’alor more.

He stared into the dying flames, lost in his thoughts when she yawned.

“I’m going back to the Gauntlet. Did you want me to bring Grogu, or should I let him sleep?”

“Let him sleep. Sometimes I think he sleeps better on the starship.”

“Like father, like son,” she smiled at him. “Sleep well, Din Djarin.”

Din awoke by the remains of the snuffed out fire. He wasn’t sure how much longer he stayed up thinking the night before or just how little sleep he’d gotten. In spite of that, he was so full of energy, eager to talk to Omera. He raised his hand to knock on her door when it opened to her tired figure.

“Hi!” he said quickly.

She looked nowhere near ready for his enthusiastic attitude this morning. Puzzled, she said, “You’re … very animated this morning.”

“I spoke to someone last night and then spent a lot of time thinking.” He didn’t think bringing up another woman was a great idea especially when Omera already knew he held Bo-Katan in such a high regard.

“Ah, so you’re all keyed up because of your lack of sleep?” she cocked her eyebrow.

“But hear me out.” He grasped her hands. Startled but amused by his impatience, she nodded. It was all she could do to stifle a laugh. He told her of his (Bo-Katan’s) plan to spend time on Sorgan in between jobs, and she seemed amenable to the proposal. His excitable mood was contagious, and she was more hopeful for a chance at a future with him.

She felt like there was something else that was on his mind that was the cause for the optimistic demeanor, but she didn’t push it. He would tell her in time when he was ready.

It was like a weight had been lifted compared to the atmosphere from last night. Laughter came easier, and they enjoyed each other’s company in the early morning sun. Winta joined them, and Omera prepared breakfast, setting aside some for Grogu. Din ate behind the barn door during the meal, but neither Winta nor Omera minded. This was enough for now. Their acceptance of his beliefs was already more than what he could ask for.

Grogu announced himself with a snort, and Din went to collect him from Bo-Katan, who slept in that morning. Winta joined him and stretched her arms to take Grogu and ran off to grab his bowl. Bo-Katan could see the group was in high spirits, and she was glad that her late-night rambling helped. She gave Din a smile and a thumbs up, and he nodded his thanks.

“We’re probably going to head out in a bit. Thank you, Din, for getting us involved. I’m glad we were able to take care of those Imperials before they became a larger problem. And a huge thank you for your help, Omera. You’re always welcome on Mandalore!” Bo-Katan peeked around Din and inclined her head towards the other woman.

“Thank you! It was lovely to meet you, Bo-Katan. Good luck!”

Before Bo-Katan departed, Din said, “I think I’ll stick around for a couple more days.”

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow and gave him a sly smile. “Sounds good. Still see you in a couple weeks?”

“Of course. Thank you for being able to come by on such short notice!”

Din came back from a mission to a nearby planet. Grogu was already sleeping in his lap. He landed the N-1 and carried the little one to his bed in the barn. He insisted on staying in separate quarters for now, though different arrangements might be in order for the future.

He knocked on the door to the house quietly, and the door opened to Omera’s welcoming smile. He pulled her in close. “I missed you.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d head directly over there.”

“I’m just here till morning.”

“Even a few hours with you is enough.” She stared at him in such a tender way that his heart was ready to explode. He let her go for a few seconds to blow out the lonely candle on the table. There was a hiss and a shuffle in the dark, and when Omera reached for him, her breath caught.

His fingers ran across her cheekbones as her fingers twisted in his loose hair. He closed his eyes in contentment before bringing their faces closer together. Their breaths intermingled and they could no longer stay away from each other. Their lips connected in their first kiss, and it was even better than they could have imagined. Breaking apart, their eyes got adjusted to the darkness and they broke out in delighted smiles.

Din Djarin had to leave the next day to meet up with Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls in a couple of days, but tonight he could spend time with the person he loved. Never did he expect a life like this for himself, but he supposed a happy ending was a possibility when he stopped surviving and started living.