Chapter Text
It had been a tight fit, but in the end, taking the Razor Crest had been the best option. They strung a hammock up in the bunk for the kid and took turns at the helm. They all longed for the bed on Paz’s old ship, but accommodations had to be made. Someone, somewhere out there, had managed to send word of a covert. Hawaii had been a nice extended stay, but it was never intended to be a permanent solution.
There was Ad’ika to worry about. Somewhere in his 50s, he was older than the both of them, but with the mentality of a small child. All signs pointed to his outliving them all by many generations over. Then there were his powers, his ability to control the Force. The Armorer had sent Din on a quest to deliver the child to his people, be that his species or others gifted with the Force. There were no such beings among the United Galactic Federation, but there was a disbanded organization of Jedi back home. Both Din and Paz had heard rumors of Jedi still roaming the galaxy they called home.
They were heading to a rift in space, at the edge of the galaxy. It had been referred to as a wormhole, but neither of them cared about that. If Jamba’s calculations were correct, it should put them right back where they’d passed through, nearly two years ago. The rift had materialized somewhere just outside of Tatooine, after a lucky shot from a bounty hunter had detonated the hyperdrive.
Today was the day. They were plotted to hit the wormhole and, hopefully, end up right back where they started. Paz was at the helm. Din was down below, playing flashcards with the kid. The lesson on the agenda today was colors. Sleepy from lunch, Ad’ika was far more interested in gumming on the tail of the blue stuffed manta ray Lilo had gifted him as they said their tearful goodbyes. Instead of getting frustrated, Din decided to try a new approach
He moved the kid off of his knee and sat him down on the floor a little ways away. He then reshuffled the deck and set the cards in a block. Ad’ika watched him with growing interest, disengaging from his stuffie to whine curiously. Din used this to advantage, and plucked the toy from his tiny claws.
“Mine!” Ad’ika whined, big brown eyes instantly watering with tears. Din knew they were fake, but they still made his heart ache.
“I know, I know. It’s okay. One more, and then it’s time for a nap, deal?” He tried to be reasonable, as the kid began to sniff, arms outstretched before slowly falling to his lap. “Point to me which one of these cards looks like your toy.”
He began to hear alarms trilling faintly from up in the cockpit, and turned his head, distracted. He could feel a tug on the toy, as the kid took advantage of his lack of focus. He knew whatever it was, Paz was more than capable of handling it. They’d switch off on the final approach, but they weren’t there yet. Couldn’t be. His mind began to race, as he ran down the list of potential problems. They’d been personally assured protection by the UGF, with the promise that there wasn’t anyone out there to cause trouble in the first place.
“You might want to get up here,” Paz called through the PA, just as anxiety began to dig its icy claws in. Din moved without giving much conscious thought. He swept the cards up into one hand, stuffed under the toy, as he stood up and pulled Adika into his free arm. The kid chirruped nervously, the lesson abandoned. He set the boy down on the bunk, where he had plenty of toys and a hidden snack or two.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Din found himself saying, as Ad’ika clutched his reclaimed toy and looked up at him. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or the kid. Then he closed the bunk and made for the ladder.
What he found he couldn’t quite comprehend. Paz had switched off of autopilot and taken manual control. It wasn’t like he had a lot of choice. Directly ahead of them hovered a dark undulating mass, which growled and lashed out with bright tentacles of static energy. The readings were off the charts. “What- what is it?”
“According to these ... it’s a lightning storm,” Paz said, gesturing at the various readings and warnings, sounding as befuddled as he looked. Din leaned out over the dashboard and squinted at the dark mass, stretching as far as the eye could see. It was difficult to make out exactly how far that was. A storm on a planet is easier to track, swallowing landmarks in dark clouds and rain bands. Out here, where light and sound passed too fast to understand, it was almost impossible.
“That can’t be right. How far out are we? Maybe we can dodge around this thing,” Din suggested, mostly thinking aloud as they switched spots. Now at the helm, Din took a quick run of the screens and alarms. Freshly refurbished, the ship was running like a top. There was one little problem, which he was fully willing to blame on the surprise weather interference. It brought back flashbacks to a nightmare of a hunt across a desert planet during a week-long dust storm that had played havoc with his tracking devices.
“I was about to call for you anyway. We’re not that far out,” Paz said, in a low voice. The ship began to shake, threatening a completely different set of alarms. Din tightened his grip around the controls, his teeth setting on edge. He didn’t see a whole lot of choices.
“It can’t be that bad. Kid's in the bunk. Why don’t you strap in, just in case?” Din advised, as he ran through his options again. Suddenly, a bright flash of impossible lightning revealed the truth. The only way through was forward, because rumbling just out sight, behind the adverse weather, was the wormhole.
“Osik,” Paz hissed, wrapping a large hand around the headset.
“Get below. Stay with Ad’ika.” That wasn’t a suggestion, and Paz never saw it as such. He had barely jumped off of the ladder before the ship began to shake in earnest. He gave the cargo bay a once-over, as the alarms started up again. There wasn’t time to tie anything down, so instead he turned to the bunk. He found their son, back pressed against the far wall, snuggled in among his toys, ears pressed flat against his head.
“Hey, it’s okay, little one. Don't you worry ‘bout a thing,” Paz said as he climbed inside and closed the bunk with his vambrace. There wasn’t much any of them could do but brace themselves, as the lights turned red and the scream of the engines became indistinguishable from the raging storm. Paz held the baby close, praying to anyone who might be listening, as minutes turned to hours.
What felt like an eternity could have been moments, but as quickly as it struck, it dispersed. Paz stayed in the bunk, calming the crying child. He had no sooner gotten him to nod off than the hatch gave way with a hiss. He had never for a second doubted Din’s ability to steer them through Hell and back. What caught him by surprise was the fact that his riduur had donned his helmet.
“You should come and see this,” Din said, holding out a hand.
“Is everything alright?” Paz asked, softly, indicating the sleeping child as he made his way to the edge of the tight bunk.
“I don’t know,” Din answered after a long pause, in which Paz turned to nestle the baby in a tangle of blankets. They made their way back into the cockpit, where a pre-recorded message was paused at the holographic display. Paz thought he recognized the woman, but he couldn’t be sure. He found the co-pilot seat easy enough, just out of sight. Din had made this sound urgent with his tone alone, and there hadn’t been time to retrieve his own buy’ce from storage.
“Mando, I hope everything’s alright. No one’s heard from you in so long. Greef told me he had heard you had a job out this way so here goes. Something’s come up. I need your help. I’m at Jakku, getting repairs. Come if you can. We need all the help we can get.”
She was Cara Dune, ex-dropper. She’d been Greef Karga’s latest enforcer. She was older than either of them last remembered, the roots of her short black hair turning gray. She was also sporting an angry scar across her face.
"She's not responding to any hail, nor is Greef. Something doesn’t feel right,” Din said, his helmet in his lap as they exchanged glances.
“Then we should plot a course for Jakku,” Paz reasoned, as he looked out over familiar stars. They were finally home - but at what cost?