Chapter Text
The air on Ryloth was stifling enough as it is without a helmet, but it's something Djarin always had to accept within his religion. There was work to be found here and questions to be asked. Namely about the elusive kind who call themselves the “Jedi”.
A tiny green figure followed closely behind the man clad in full silver beskar armour, toddling along as fast as he could to keep up with his guardian.
Sensing how far his ward was, the man looked behind him. “Kid, you want me to carry you?”
The child just stared up at him and mumbled something grumpily which sounded like a resounding “No”. And sped up to reach the man.
The strip of land they were currently on was one of the few areas liveable on the inhospitable planet home to the Twi’leks. Djarin was currently in a small town near a small stream running along the barren land. Where glaciers from mountain ranges in the perpetually dark and frozen side of the planet provide the source.
Close to what looked to be a bar, though, it should be a bar, as the name of the building clearly advertised it to be, the doors were nearly four times his height.
“Brmm.” The kid mumbled, clearly skeptical.
“Most likely used to be a temple of some sorts, we need information about your people, go in kid.” Djarin gestured his head towards the bar in emphasis.
Djarin held one of the doors out for the kid as he toddled slowly inside, Djarin followed closely behind.
Entering felt like a breath of fresh air, as the mugginess from the planet's atmosphere was temporarily blocked by the massive doors concealing only the smell of fresh brew, spice, and the cool stone surfaces of the building itself. The ceiling hung high, with multiple colourful dim lights adorning the walls. Giving the place a peaceful, calm tone and feel.
There weren’t many patrons in the establishment, with a lone blue Twi’lek man tending to the bar and a few others of his kind huddled laughing around a table. What did catch Djarins eye was a massive mechanical being clad in dark, deep blue metal sitting alone on a wide stone slab facing the wall with what looks to be some sort of fuel looking beverage placed on a table being lazily held by a large hand.
What kind of a droid is that? Is it a droid?
“Did someone leave their exosuit on before entering?” Djarin humoured dryly while making his way towards the barman, gesturing with his helmet towards the droid.
Raised from his stupor of endlessly cleaning glasses and cups, the Twi’lek lifted his eyes towards the Mandalorian. “...Oh him?” Head tilting towards the enigmatic figure. “Thats just Trench. He’s a Shifter.”
Din simply tilted his head at the name. Never heard of that.
The man placed the glass down. “Can I do something for you, Mandalorian? We don’t get a lot of your kind around these parts. I’m not aware of any bounty.”
“Not a bounty, information. Do you know anything about Jedi?”
The Twi’lek widened his eyes for a split second before shaking his head slightly. “Never seen or heard of one in years. Bad omens.”
“Bah!” an indignant noise came from a bar seat right next to Djarin.
The Twi’lek looked down incredulously at the child who loudly voiced his displeasure.
“Kid.” Djarin admonished. Sighing, Din lowered his voice to a near whisper while leaning over the bar table. “I need to get him back to his kind. Please if you know any information, just tell me and we’ll be on our way.”
The Twi’lek looked on in fear. “He’s-?” Djarin grabbed the man's arm in a slightly threatening manner. “Lower your voice.”
Chatter stopped at the nearby table with the group of Twi’leks as they stared at the commotion. An audible noise of stone being moved and the distinct slow steps of mechanical footfalls resounded until it stopped right behind the Mandalorian.
“Let go of the man.” A deep mechanical baritone reverberated around the room. Though it did not sound distinctly droidlike.
Turning towards the stranger, and staring up, Djarin finally had a full view of the creature's face.
Dark blue optics piercing down onto him like a vibroblade was the first thing he could make out until realising how utterly strange this being was. His mouth was covered in what looked to be a metallic mouthpiece, until Din realised it was a screen. Above the mouth plate peeked aged metal alloys that interacted around the creature's eyes like skin.
“Trench, it’s ok, our kind visitor over here only wants to know about the Jedi.” The Twi’lek added obvious heavy disdain at the last word.
Djarin suddenly turned his head at the barman, then turned his head back to what could be a potential assailant. Quickly, the Mandalorian eyed where his ward was. He deeply calculated his next move. He’d been in worse situations, and the strength of his beskar never failed him.
Though he could never be prepared for what was said next, mechanical whirring sounded when the creature's mouthplate signalled soundwaves that inferred his speaking.
“I can take you to them.” Was all that was simply said before turning towards the exit and motioning for the pair to follow.
Confused and left stockstill, Djarin looked back at the Twi’lek, who simply shrugged, and went back to his work.
“Kid lets go.” Djarin picked up the kid and jogged towards the lumbering figure, who was already halfway out of the establishment.
Once caught up to the giant nearly three times Din's height, and easily two and half times his width, they were already out of the building, back to the muggy dry heat of Ryloth. Djarin found it within himself to bury thoughts of resentment for such a menacing mechanical looking thing to ask a question. “You know of the Jedi?”
The Shifter, as the Twi’lek called him before, simply turned his helm down towards the Mandalorian. “Yes. For many years.” A slight silence was left hung for a moment. The only sounds being the kid’s mumbling as Djarin held him. “I know of their planet of origins. A planet far out from here in what you organics call the unknown regions.” Organics?!
“The unknown regions are too far out. I don’t think I have enough fuel, or enough money for fuel for stops.”
The Shifter side stepped to face him fully now. “I have enough republic credits.” The soundwaves on his screen-mouthplate reverberating the tones of his words.
Now Djarin was very confused. “What's your angle here droid. Or Shifter, if that's what you are. Why would you spend credits on a stranger like me to go to Dank Farrik knows where.” Djarin asked in a very bored and mildly irritated tone.
“Shifter is a term the locals gave me and a few of my kind they met a couple of times.” The mech replied without answering Dins very obvious question.
“Not my question.”
“You requested to see the Jedi?”
Djarin shifted uncomfortably, setting the kid down, immediately stumbling around to wander. He crossed his arms now that they were free and sighed to himself. “...Trench is it?”
“Thats my designation, yes.” Dank Farrik for a supposed non-droid he karking talks like one sometimes.
“...Why do they call you Shifters?” Asking while gesturing to the locals around the village.
A mechanical waver that sounded an awful lot like a laugh emanated from Trench. “I think you’ll figure it out.”
That definitely does not sound suspicious.
“Lead me to your ship and I will send hyperspace coordinate routes to your interface. From there I will be able to lead you towards the Jedi.”
Djarin quickly nodded and gestured towards the kid to follow. When he didn’t listen and decided to ignore him in favour of catching a tiny insectoid, Djarin snapped slightly. “Kid, we have to go.” He said in a firm tone. The child's long ears perked at that before drooping lightly and sulked to follow.
They walked not too far from the town itself, with the Razor Crest only being stationed a little a few hundred meters from the outskirts of the hamlet. Din looked at his pride and joy and then to Trench. “You’ll call on your own ship right?” Hoping that it wasn’t a necessary question.
“Don’t need one.” Trenches' deep voice resounded.
Trench pulled up his right arm, where the metal plates covering the protoform moved to reveal a very technologically advanced keypad with letters completely alien to Djarin projected in front of himself. Typing something up very quickly, Trench turned his head to Din. “I am sending you the coordinates.”
Din’s vambrace projected a holo of the map routes toward a planet very far off into the unknown regions. “This better be worth it. This is almost two weeks worth of a trip.”
“I wish I could provide my society's knowledge and possession of space bridge technology, but I am otherwise a very destitute mech.” Trench tried to add humorously while shrugging.
It was uncanny to see such an individual act in such an amicable way.
Din ushered the kid into the hull of the Razor Crest. “So, you said you didn’t need a ship?”
“Still didn’t figure it out, I see.” Trench let out what sounded like a mock sigh.
Suddenly, strange mechanical whirring and loud metal clanging sounded out as the strangers’ entire body moved its metal plates around in such a menacing manner, that Din couldn’t help but to move his hand towards his blaster. As if it would do anything.
His body transformed into what looked like a generic gunship slightly smaller than the Razor Crest itself, and shot off into Ryloth's atmosphere.
Barely processing anything, Din ran into his ship and hopped into the cockpit, where the kid was currently seated in the copilots’, to the captain's seat to start it. Once in the air, a signal of a comm channel opened onto the interface of his ship where he heard Trenches voice chuckling.
“I feel as if you understand why the locals call us Shifters now.”
The Mandalorian growled a little at that, and pressed the comms. “Warn me next time when you do that.”