Chapter Text
Din meets Teva in a nightclub this time. It’s weird seeing him out of uniform, but he supposes most people don’t wear their work clothes all the time. It’s even weirder seeing him under the multicoloured flashing lights of the club and trying to hear him over the deafening pulse of the terrible music they play here.
It’s very much not his first choice of meeting place, but needs must - he’s on Zaphir doing a favour for Greef, tracking down an old contact who screwed him over, and Teva said this couldn’t wait until he got back. They needed somewhere to talk where they couldn’t be overheard, and Zaphir is a nightlife town, so a club seemed the obvious choice.
It’s an awful place - too hot, too loud, and full of drunks with no sense of personal space. It’s the last place he wants to bring Grogu, but he couldn’t exactly leave him outside. He has to pay the bouncer a lot of credits to let him bring in a kid. He’d thought it strange that all his weapons were fine but bringing in a child was apparently out of the question, but once he’s inside he gets it, and makes Grogu close his pod. First thing he sees when they walk through the door is a pair of Quarren doing something no kid should see, and when they turn the corner, there’s a group of mostly naked Twi’leks basically covered in spice. It just gets worse the further in they go.
The first thing he says when he slides into the booth opposite Teva is “really?”
Teva scrunches up his face. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“Lets get this over with quickly. I’m sure we both have better places to be.”
No one is looking at them - the booth is secluded by design, and he tries not to think about how infrequently it’s probably cleaned - but Teva takes a look around to check for prying eyes all the same. When he’s satisfied that their conversation is private, he takes out a puck. It’s been a while since Din’s seen one, and he’s surprised. Teva’s never given him an actual puck before.
“Her name is Noriza Soveni,” he says, sliding the puck across the table. Din puts his hand over it, but doesn’t take it yet. “She started off as an inquisitor, so we don’t know much about her background. Their records were all wiped. We thought she was killed years ago when she tried to lead a coup against Moff Ulrep and crashed both of their forces into a planet called Q’iers on the edge of the unknown regions. The empire was still in power and they didn’t bother searching for survivors.”
Din still doesn’t take the puck. He thought he saw the flash of a vibroblade on the dancefloor, but there’s still no one watching them. If there is a blade, it’s someone else’s problem. “I’m guessing she’s not dead?”
“No,” Teva shakes his head. “Problem is Q’iers is a protected planet. The sentients there are primitive - no contact with the wider galaxy. It’s illegal to interfere with their development, so we can’t make a move on her. We only found out she was still alive because one of her troopers recently sent out a distress call on an Imperial channel we’re monitoring.”
That makes sense. There’s no way Teva’s bosses would approve a mission on that planet, especially if the imp they’ve tracked there doesn’t seem to have any plans to leave. “You want her warm or cold?”
“Warm, preferably. She’d be a very valuable asset. There’s no other inquisitors left as far as we know, and there’s a lot of intel only one of them would have.”
Din’s not entirely sure what an inquisitor is, but an imp is an imp. This is the kind of work he wanted when he first approached Teva - a chance to use his skills to make the galaxy a little safer, take some dangerous players off the board. He activates the puck. The holographic face is of a human female, or at least mostly human. There’s something off about her eyes. She doesn’t look particularly dangerous, but he knows from experience that doesn’t mean much.
Grogu’s pod opens and he poked his little green head out, cooing unhappily. They’ve been in this unholy sarlacc pit of a bar long enough.
“All right,” Din says, nodding to Teva. “I’ll be in contact.”
He makes Grogu close his pod again before standing up to go. He’s glad he did when a scantily dressed Zeltron steps into his path and tries to stop him leaving with some very unappealing suggestions for what they could do if he stays. He pushes the woman away and hears her curse at him before immediately trying the same thing with someone else. When they leave, the bouncer gives him a look that seems to say I told you so. Din ignores him.
As soon as they’re out of sight, he opens Grogu’s pod and scoops the kid up into his arms, holding him close.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says. “We’re never going somewhere like that again, ok? Not unless we really, really have to.”
Grogu grumbles against his armour as they head back to their lodgings where they have Greef’s contact encased in carbonite. They’ll have him shipped back to Nevarro in the morning, then find a bigger ship to rent (again) and start out for Q’iers.
****
It takes a long time to reach Q’iers. It’s in the middle of nowhere, right at the border between the known galaxy and the unexplored expanse of black beyond. For thousands of years, something about this strip of space has stopped anyone from exploring further - has halted them in their tracks and made them turn right around and head back to the safety of familiar ground. It’s why he takes his growing sense of foreboding a little more seriously than he usually would.
Grogu whines from his spot on the co-pilot’s chair, clearly thinking the same thing.
“It’s ok,” Din says. “Whatever’s down there, we can take it. We just have to be careful.”
He sounds a lot more confident than he feels. Looking down at the planet from above, he’s really not too sure what to expect. The intel on the puck said it was a forest planet with high biodiversity but no civilisation. Looking at it now, only half of it is forested. The other half is a vast ocean, its inky blue-black colour suggesting it’s tremendously deep. The forested continent is dark green and not broken up by any rivers or clearings that he can see from here, so they’re either very small or the jungle canopy is thick enough to hide them. There are towering mountains, thickly carpeted with trees, and he really hopes Soveni isn’t hiding at the top of one of those.
It’s going to be hard to find her if she doesn’t want to be found. A forest that size could be hiding a million people without them ever running into each other.
“Well, guess we should get started,” he says, and brings the ship down.
They fly over the forest and scan for any evidence of human life. It’s tricky with the sheer volume of life signs in the forest, but hopefully they’ll pick up evidence of a village, of crops, of artificial structures or technology. Soveni and her people have been here for a few years now, so they’re bound to have built something.
Four hours later and they’ve got nothing. He can tell Grogu is bored, but this is an important lesson so he doesn’t really want to give him anything to play with to entertain him. When it looks like Grogu might be nodding off, he heads to the back of the ship and heats up some water to make soup. He’s got some blue cookies for Grogu in the food crate as well, but he has to make sure the kid eats some proper food first.
He’s pouring the water into cups with the soup powder when Grogu lets out a squeal of excitement and he’s startled into spilling some on the counter, narrowly missing his gloves. They’re heat proof, but still.
He rushes back to the cockpit, leaving the soups behind.
“What is it?”
Grogu points to the map screen. Din blinks, not seeing what his kid is pointing at. The system hasn’t picked up on anything - it all looks exactly the same as before.
“I’m sorry, kid,” he says, looking back at his happy little face. “I don’t see it.”
Grogu makes an expression that looks very similar to rolling his eyes, and Din wonders who he picked that up from since it certainly wasn’t him. The kid jumps from his seat onto the ship’s dashboard and taps insistently on a specific point on the map.
Din studies the display, still not seeing what’s so special about it. He zooms in on the spot and calls up the scans they made when they passed over it. Nothing unusual. He turns back to Grogu.
“Is this a force magic thing?” he asks.
Grogu coos an affirmative, and that settles it.
Din sits back down in the pilot’s seat and plots a course for a spot about half a day’s hike from where Grogu was pointing. It’s going to be tricky to land in a forest this dense, but they’ll make it work.
“You want some soup?” He asks, and Grogu immediately jumps back into his seat and reaches out with little grabby hands. “I think that’s a yes.”
****
The trees crunch and snap under the ship as it lowers to the forest floor. They wait a little while after landing to make sure they haven’t pissed off any local wildlife that’s going to attack them when they leave. He gives Grogu two blue cookies after he finishes his soup and tells him he can have more when they’re back on the ship later.
Once the forest around them seems to have settled back into its usual rhythm, he gets up to check his supplies and weapons. Satisfied that they have everything they’re likely to need, Din calls Grogu over and lowers the ramp.
The heat hits them like a duracrete wall.
They’ve spent plenty of time in hot places - for some reason deserts tend to be popular spots in his line of work - but this is different. It’s a heavy, wet heat. Even with his helmet filtering the air, it’s damp, and he turns to check that Grogu is breathing all right. Logically he knows air can only hold so much vapour before it rains and you can’t drown in humidity, but he can’t help the irrational spike of worry that prompts him to check on his kid.
Grogu’s little face lights up and he coos happily, clearly unbothered by the excessive moisture. Maybe his species comes from the rainforest? Or a swamp-like environment? It would explain his constant craving for frogs. Which reminds him-
“Grogu, if you see any frogs with bright colours, do not eat them,” he says. When Grogu doesn’t seem to be paying attention, he grabs the edge of his pod and turns it to face him. “Hey, listen. They’re poisonous. Don’t eat them.”
Grogu’s ears droop but he nods.
“And that goes for anything brightly coloured. I know your cookies are bright, but that’s different. Actually, don’t eat anything without showing it to me first, ok?”
Thankfully Grogu doesn’t roll his eyes again, though he looks like he wants to.
Din adjusts the temperature controls in his armour to make himself a bit more comfortable and steps down the ramp, Grogu’s pod following close behind. He makes sure the ramp is securely closed before they start their hike - they don’t need any surprises from the local wildlife when they return.
The trek through the forest is very unpleasant. It’s hot, sticky, and the vegetation is dense. He has to be careful not to trip on the uneven ground and plants keep catching on the edges of his armour and the fabric of his flight suit. There’s no easy path, no routes carved out by frequent travellers. The animals here are good at keeping out of sight, but evidence of them is all around - tracks on the ground, claw marks in the trees, droppings, spatters of blood, nests in the trees and burrows in the ground. His eyes linger on a particularly large gouge in a tree and he hopes they don’t meet whatever made it.
Grogu seems to be having a great time. He’s completely unfazed by the heat and humidity, and his head is constantly whipping around to investigate bird calls and the whirr of unseen insects. He leaps out of his pod at one point to go foraging in a particularly lush bush and Din grabs him just as a furious hissing starts up from behind the leaves. Grogu looks up at him guiltily and doesn’t leave his pod again.
They’re about five hours into the journey when Din decides they need to take a break. He estimates there’s about three more hours to go before they reach the place Grogu indicated on the map, and so far it’s been a lot slower and more exhausting than he expected. They reach an area where the forest is slightly less dense - the closest he’s seen to a clearing since arriving here - and he finds a relatively safe looking rock to sit down on. As soon as he takes his weight off his feet they start to ache, as if given permission to air their grievances now that he’s not walking on them. It’s irritating. He’s usually able to walk much further than this without getting tired. It’s like this jungle is sapping his energy - or maybe he’s just getting old.
Grogu floats the pod over to him, cooing sympathetically. Din reaches out to pat Grogu’s head, and leaves his hand in the pod when Grogu grabs his fingers.
“We’ll just wait here for a few minutes. You want a ration bar?” Grogu scrunches up his face and Din laughs. “I guess that’s a no.”
Grogu gets his little hand between Din’s glove and the sleeve of his flight suit, and as soon as their skin touches, a wonderful coolness rushes up his arm and through the rest of his body, chasing away the heat and sweat. Immediately refreshed, he scoops Grogu out of his pod and holds him against his chest.
“Thanks, buddy. You get three blue cookies when we get back,” he says, but Grogu doesn’t react. He’s staring at something in the bushes.
Din turns to look and sees a flash of white as something runs away. Stormtrooper, he thinks, and instantly stands and pulls out his blaster, putting Grogu back in his pod. He shifts his visor to heat vision, but it’s so hot and there’s so much life here that it’s even harder to see, so he shifts it back. He studies the forest around them, waiting for whoever was watching them to make a mistake.
A twig snaps behind him and he spins, pointing his blaster directly between two huge black eyes on a snow white face. The creature freezes.
It’s not a species he’s ever seen before. Vaguely humanoid, its entire body is the same pure white colour. Its limbs are too skinny, its fingers too long, its head too big and its mouth too small. It has slits for nostrils, like a snake, and no visible ears, though it surely must have them. Its expression is hard to read, but it seems to know what a blaster is judging by the way it’s keeping completely still.
Grogu coos and Din can see him in the corner of his eye pointing into the forest. Careful not to move his head so the creature in front of him can’t see him looking away, he sees more white faces and large black eyes in the dense thicket, watching him. They make no move to rescue their friend, and don’t look particularly scared or aggressive - just curious.
The one in front of Din starts to move. Din braces himself for an attack, but the creature kneels on the ground and bends low, only stopping when its forehead touches the dirt. Din really doesn’t know what to do about this, and looks helplessly at Grogu, who just blinks back at him.
Slowly, the other creatures emerge from the jungle and start to kneel down like their friend. More and more come out, until Din and Grogu are completely surrounded by these naked white beings, kneeling not just in surrender but seemingly in obeisance. He keeps his blaster in his hand and activates his whistling birds, just in case. At the sound of the weapon priming, the first creature’s head snaps up and it speaks.
He can’t understand a single word, of course. The language sounds like a messy combination of Huttese and the garbled speech of the frog lady they’d taken to Trask, but there’s nothing about it he recognises. These must be the locals Teva mentioned - they’re intelligent but not developed enough to have had any contact with the wider galaxy. He’s probably breaking about a hundred different laws just by standing here with them.
He decides he might as well try to communicate.
“Have you seen any other beings like me?” he says, pressing his hands to his chest and then moving his arms in a wide circle, indicating the rest of the forest. He’s sure there won’t have been any other Mandalorians here, but if there were imps, there will have been humans in stormtrooper armour, and these creatures won’t know the difference. “Others. People like me. Can you take me to them?”
The first creature speaks again and looks like he wants to get up, but doesn’t for some reason.
“You can stand, it’s fine,” Din says, trying to think of how to communicate that without frightening them. He holds his hands out towards the creature, palms up, and makes a lifting gesture. “It’s ok. You don’t have to stay on the ground.”
Slowly, the creature gets up. A few of the others titter at each other, clearly not understanding what’s going on. Din turns to the rest of them and makes the same gesture. “You can stand up too. It’s ok.”
They do - some more quickly than others - and they are staring at Din even more intently than before. It’s unnerving.
He turns back to the first creature again. “Can you take me to them? The other people like me?”
He doesn’t know how much the thing understands him, but it speaks again and points into the forest in the direction he and Grogu were walking before, so that’s promising. Another of the creatures, this one adorned with rings of smoothed out wood around its neck and wrists, says something to a small group of them and they run ahead. Din guesses they’ll be warning the rest of their village. He hopes they don’t warn the imps, but it’s probably too late now. He’ll never catch up with them if this is their home, and he has a feeling keeping these creatures on his side is going to be useful.
****
It’s evening when they arrive at their destination. The sun is still shining, but shadows are lengthening and the forest sounds are starting to change.
The journey was much easier with the white creatures guiding them. They clearly know the area, and know which path is easiest. Plus, they seem eager to help Din, holding vegetation out of his way as he walks, clearing obstacles and shooing away any wildlife. It’s helpful even if it’s a bit disconcerting.
They reach a clearing - an actual clearing - in which there is a ring of wooden huts. The jungle’s canopy covers the sky, making the village invisible from above. In the centre of the ring is a large, ancient tree, its gnarled trunk towering above the huts and disappearing into the leaves above so the top isn’t visible. The creatures urge him forward.
The first indication of trouble is Grogu letting out an uneasy whine as they cross the threshold, into the village, and that’s enough for Din to pull out his blaster.
A bolt hits his chest plate just left of centre, where his heart is. The force of it is much stronger than a normal blaster, and he stumbles back a few steps. Luckily Grogu’s warning had him already prepared for this, and he’d fired back instantly, so he sees a black clad death trooper stumble out of his hiding place, clutching a blaster wound on his neck before collapsing to the ground.
The white creatures scatter, seeking the shelter of their huts. They’re screeching now, though Din’s not sure if it’s terror or anger. Two more death troopers appear and start shooting at him. Frustrated by the strength of the bolts battering his armour, Din pushes forward just enough to be within whipcord range and yanks one of the guns out of the trooper’s hands - or tries to. The trooper doesn’t let go, so he’s dragged along too. Din stamps down on the trooper’s chest, hard, and wrenches the blaster out of his grip, deftly flipping it and shooting its previous owner point blank in his cheap helmet. Death trooper armour is better than the stormtrooper variety, but not by much, and the man’s head explodes like a meiloorun under a blurg’s foot.
Suddenly the other trooper stops firing at him and Din turns to see him lifted in the air, his legs kicking desperately at nothing. Sure enough, when he looks back at Grogu, the kid’s tiny clawed hand is extended and he’s glaring at the trooper like he’s a second away from snapping his neck.
“Good job, kid!” Din praises him, and makes his way over to the trooper. First he pulls the blaster out of the man’s hands and tosses it away. He pauses to let the man get a little more scared, making a show of looking back at the dead trooper with the crushed head and the tiny green child holding this third trooper helplessly in the air. “I’m looking for Noriza Soveni. She here?”
“Yes!” the trooper gasps.
“If I ask my kid to put you down, will you take us to her?”
“Yes!” The trooper says, more desperate this time.
“Ok,” Din says. “You make one move to hurt either of us and you die like your friends, all right?”
“Of course! I won’t do anything!”
They’ll see if that’s true. “Grogu! Put him down!” he calls, and the trooper drops heavily to the ground, shaking.
The white creatures start emerging from their hiding places, looking from Din to the dead troopers to Grogu, whispering to each other. Din hauls the surviving trooper to his feet.
“Take me to her. Now.”
The man nods, turning to walk towards the largest hut of the village, directly opposite the entrance and behind the ancient tree in the centre of the village. It’s by far the grandest thing he’s seen on this planet, with ornately carved wood decorating the arch of the entryway. An intricate blanket of what looks like woven leaves covers the entrance, the sparkling beads threaded through it catching the warm light of the setting sun.
The trooper reaches out and pulls the blanket back, gesturing for Din to enter. He hesitates, watching the trooper.
“I’m not allowed in there,” he says. “You go.”
Din tilts his helmet. “Why can’t you go in?”
“Queen’s rules. She said if you defeated us you could enter her hall.”
“Her hall?” he repeated. “Is Soveni your Queen now?”
The trooper sighs. “Just go in the hut.”
He sounds tired if anything, like he doesn’t understand the rules either but it’s easier to play along. Din’s not sure what to make of that, but he doesn’t think it’s a trap. Or if it is, this trooper doesn’t know about it.
He steps under the woven blanket and into the hut, Grogu following close behind
His helmet adjusts to the low light instantly, but he’s sure if he hadn’t been wearing it the effect of the dark room and the many candles scattered throughout would have been much more impressive. The room is large, longer than it is wide, and finely decorated. Carvings cover the walls and ceiling, some decorative patterns and some clearly depicting scenes either from the history or the myths of the creatures who live here. The floor is covered with woven blankets, soft cushions and carved statuettes of animals with colourful beads for eyes. There is a raised platform at the far end of the hall, and on an opulent throne in the centre of the platform, luxurious blankets draped over the seat beneath her, sits Soveni.
She is absolutely beautiful. She’s wrapped in dark robes and adorned with the same colourful beads he’d seen on the statues, but against her flawless black skin, they look more like jewels, or like stars shining in deep space. He could swear he’s seen her face in a painting before. Its perfect symmetry is mesmerising, and her piercing eyes are wide set, almond shaped, and glowing yellow. Sitting there, unmoving, staring at him, she looks every bit the queen the trooper declared her. He doesn’t know if he wants to run away or kneel before her.
He does neither. He walks to the centre of the room and plants his feet, trying to ground himself. He’s here to do a job. He has to get this woman on his ship and hand her over to the New Republic. It doesn’t matter who she is or what she looks like. Still, he fights the urge to get the puck out and double check this is her. He can see it’s the same person, but he swears she wasn’t this attractive in the hologram.
Grogu is keeping his pod very close to Din’s side, and while he doesn’t make any sound, Din can tell he’s scared.
Eventually, Soveni smiles, and it’s like a supernova.
“You are magnificent,” she says in a voice like silk. “When the Wolanie told me they’d found another God in the forest, I knew it would be someone interesting, but I wasn’t expecting you.”
Din stays silent, his mind racing as he tries to make sense of what she’s saying. This was definitely not the reception he was expecting.
She sits forward slightly, the movement causing her many jewels to sway and shimmer in the candlelight. “That’s pure beskar, isn’t it? You must be a great warrior.”
He fights the urge to step back. Her expression is now verging on a leer.
Grogu suddenly finds his voice and squawks at her, moving his pod in front of his father.
Irritation flashes across Soveni’s face for a moment before her eyes widen. Her gaze flicks between Grogu and Din. She looks distracted, almost like she’s listening to an earpiece.
“Your son tells me you’re here to collect my bounty,” she says, amused.
What? “You can talk to him,” he says, a cold feeling spreading through his chest. “You’re a Jedi.”
Soveni throws her head back and laughs. It sounds like broken glass. It lasts a while - clearly she finds the idea far funnier than Din does. When she calms down she pins him to the spot with a fierce glare.
“I kill Jedi.”
She stands, and Din instinctively pulls Grogu’s pod behind him. Her walk is languid and unhurried, and her gaze never wavers from his visor as she draws closer. He stands his ground.
“Mandalorian armour and armaments were originally designed to kill Jedi too. Or rather, adapted for the purpose thousands of years ago. Our peoples have been allies in the past,” she says.
Her voice has taken on a hypnotic quality, and he can hear Grogu whine behind him. He turns to look at his son and with a flick of her hand, Soveni closes the pod and sends it skittering to the far end of the hall.
“Hey!” he turns back to her and reaches out to- what? He’s not sure. He feels tired all of a sudden.
She’s right in front of him, a little too close. “Beskar obscures the vision of the Force,” she says, and her hands are on him, pulling at his cowl. He wants to bat her hands away, but he wants to feel her against his skin. He hovers between the two urges, doing nothing. “Not completely, but enough that I can’t see you properly.”
Her soft hands find his neck, and for a second his eyes flutter closed, sinking into the sensation. How long has it been since anyone other than Grogu has touched his skin? The moment is abruptly ruined when he feels her claw into his mind.
It hurts. That’s his overwhelming first impression. It’s like she’s chiselling something out of his brain. He sees flashes of his own memories. Grogu earlier that day, showing him he’s finished his soup. Teva giving him Soveni’s bounty puck. Greef Karga showing him his new home on the Navarro lava flats. Bo-Katan’s awkward goodbye when he last left Mandalore. Grogu in his first pod, reaching a tiny clawed hand out towards him on the day they met. Fleeing Concordia with a ship full of foundlings on the day of the purge, trying not to look down at the burning ruin of Mandalore. Handing The Armorer his teacher’s helmet on the day she died. The first time he beat Paz in a fight. The day he received his helmet. Droids bombing his village, his parents’ screams.
Finally, he sees his own face. This memory is recent - just before they left for Zaphir, he trimmed his hair and considered shaving. He studied his face in the mirror that morning, thinking he looked a lot older than the last time he’d properly looked. He had decided to leave his facial hair - he looks better with it, even if no one but him will see.
Soveni is seeing it.
She’s seen his face. She’s looking at it right now.
He doesn’t know if he pushed her out of his mind in his panic or if she decided to let go. He stumbles back, his hands reaching up to check his helmet is still there. It’s there - it hasn’t budged. She hasn’t removed his helmet. She’s seen his face, but she hasn’t removed his helmet. Does that count? Is his creed broken? She didn’t technically see it, she saw a memory of it - does ‘technically’ count?
Soveni is either unaware of his crisis or doesn’t care. Her grin is predatory. “Oh, you’ll do perfectly.”