A/N So for this chapter I have a few notes. First, my OC's. Asta is 26 and I imagine her as Lydia Graham. She is a British model and you can find her on Instagram if you're curious. That's what she looks like. And Skord. I definitely pictured Mads Mikkelsen. I know he is already in the Star Wars universe but I love him. He is so pretty and the right age for this character. I enjoy picturing him as I write this lol I do this for myself after all. Second, this is when I really start getting into Mandalorian lore. I have pulled from both Legends and Cannon, cherry picking what I liked and then made some stuff up. I have spent hours combing through YouTube videos and Wookeepedia to come up with something that makes sense for my story. I hope you like what I came up with!

Chapter 32

-tribe-

Before the purge, Din's tribe was already living in exile. They had established themselves as nomads and with the Armorer they never had to be without helmets for their foundlings and at the very least durasteel for their warriors. After the purge, they found shelter and survived. Din had always believed theirs was the last true holdout of their people so he hadn't considered what it might be like for a tribe without someone that knew the secrets of the Mandalorian forges.

He also never thought about what it would be like for Mandalorians who had to flee Mandalore or Concordia directly. Having already been in exile meant they were established as well as any nomads ever were. This new tribe fled their home with the beskar on their backs and the weapons in their hands. While they had never been as extreme as the Children of the Watch, they wouldn't have been able to maintain it if they had.

Bo-Katan hadn't been lying about their numbers. If anything she'd under sold them. In what must have been the main chamber of their covert, at least a hundred adults in beskar or durasteel lingered. As they made their way through other chambers, tunnels and large underground ruins he counted another fifty at least. In between the beskar clad warriors there were older people and younger people both dressed in plain clothes.

And the children. There were so many children. None of them wore helmets but almost all of them old enough had a blade of some kind strapped to them. Winta wore the blade he had given her again and when he looked down, she was fingering its hilt as she watched the other children playing.

Back on Sorgan, he knew she sometimes felt out of place. Omera said she had always been a little different, but the more she trained with him the worse it got. She never complained but that didn't stop him feeling guilty about it. Here though were children like her. Children that played and trained to be warriors someday.

Several of them had noticed Winta and watched her curiously too. When one of them waved at her she waved back. There were many adults around and the large section of submerged ruins they were in was well lit. He was mildly anxious about not having her with him but she would be safe here. Smiling down at her, he ruffled her hair and nodded towards the other children when she looked up at him.

"Go on. You'll be safe here, Winta. I won't leave without you. I promise."

She still looked a little nervous but after a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder she smiled and cautiously approached the others, only looking back at him once. He watched her for a few moments before their hosts spoke.

"Were there many children in your tribe?"

Din pulled his gaze away from Winta to answer as they walked on. "Yes. But she wasn't a part of my life then. I met her and her mother after."

The female beside him watched the children still but spoke next. "You have a riduur? Where is she now?"

"One of our group was injured recently. She is helping the medic in the city with surgery."

This seemed to interest all three of them but the female continued. "Your riduur is a medic?"

Her tone had shifted from casual curiosity to keen interest. "She is."

She nodded but held back any more questions she might have had as they came to a door. Stepping through, they came into a room where two more armored Mandalorians waited. When they came into the room, whatever conversation they'd been having dropped as they turned to Din and Paz.

The three that had led them in all inclined their heads in respect before removing their helmets and speaking. "Alor." Dressed in weathered beskar'gam painted grey and green, a man with silver hair, a strong jaw and the posture of a general nodded back. His steely gaze pierced Din's visor as one of the men that had brought them in spoke.

"We met these two at the end of the tunnel. This is Paz Vizsla.'' He gestured to Paz. "And this is Bo-Katan's new Mand'alor, Din Djarin."

Sighing, Din reached up and removed his own helmet. The older man raised an eyebrow at this but looked away, dismissing the others. When it was just the three of them, he finally spoke.

"Din Djarin. I've heard a lot about you. Bo-Katan speaks highly of the new wielder of the Darksaber. Not that her endorsement is something I value overmuch. I'm old enough to remember the last time she backed someone as Mand'alor and how disastrous that was for our people."

Only having had Bo-Katan's version of events and the similar story from his buir as a child, he wasn't sure what to say. Thankfully the other man continued.

"She told us you belonged to the Children of the Watch. That you kept their strict ways and that you were eager to see Mandalore again." He gave Din a skeptical look. Din scoffed.

"I've never seen Mandalore and I didn't know anything about the Watch until I met her. As for my creed, well I've adopted a much less strict interpretation. I'm guessing she left out the part where I told her I didn't want the Darksaber or any of the responsibility."

He frowned slightly. "And why not?"

Glancing at Paz, Din sighed. "Until I found Paz here, I thought my tribe was wiped out by a remnant and with them most of our people. Nine months ago, after giving up my son so he could train with a Jedi, I went back to the woman I loved. I married her and adopted her daughter. I have a family, a peaceful life. That's what I want. But here I am. I don't know what help one Jedi relic will be but…"

Din wanted to know who this other man was. He knew his name and now why he was there. Feeling irritation beginning to take hold, Din clenched his fists and waited for the other man to speak again.

Watching him thoughtfully, he took a step closer to Din. "If I challenged you for it, what would you do?"

Frowning darkly, Din stood straighter. "I would give it to you easily enough if I knew what you'd do with it, but I won't hold back if you want to fight. I have too much to live for, with or without Mandalore."

Beside him Paz shifted, glaring down at the older man too. He was relieved to see him nod and back down, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "No, I will not take it from you. That burden is not for me to bear. My name is Braz Skord by the way."

It wasn't a name Din had ever heard before but he nodded and relaxed slightly as Skord turned away and sat beside a table in the corner. He gestured to the other two seats as he spoke again. "Tell me Din, how do you see this going? The last I heard, a small Imperial remnant still inhabits Sundari. You say you've never seen Mandalore… what do you know of our home world?"

Sitting across from Skord, Din tapped his fingers on the rough wooden table as he tried to order his thoughts. "When Mandalore was mentioned in our tribe, anyone that had been there said the whole system was cursed. That the planet itself was a wasteland. Our tribe, our people have always been nomads so I couldn't understand why anyone would want to go back. Bo-Katan was scornful of this outlook but even after hearing all of her grand plans I can't see the point in returning to a dead planet. Other than sentimental, anyways."

He looked up to meet Skord's thoughtful expression. "Personally, I have a growing family to provide for, and as far as this goes…" He gestured at the Darksaber. "whatever remains of our people will need food and water and everything else a desert wasteland lacks. I have no idea what to do as far as Mandalore goes. Bo-Katan wants to rally any warriors she can find behind me to expel the remnant but…" Din sighed again and looked away from the other man. "How can I justify risking the lives of what remains of our people for little more than an empty symbol? Besides, I'm more concerned with any people that might still be living on Concord Dawn and other planets in the system under remnet control."

Across from him, Skord nodded. "I see we are of like mind in this. Mandalore is our home, and in the hearts of everyone in my tribe old enough to remember her this will always be true. But without the numbers and the galactic influence we once had, it would be impossible to survive there. Bo-Katan may have good intentions, but she is as zealous about this fight as any fringe tribe." At that he met Din's eye with a knowing glint.

"However, we can not continue living as we are. There are too many of us, we have too many young ones to provide for, too many old, to continue eking out our existence as we have. And yet you say your own tribe was wiped out by another remnant. Is it even safe for us to reveal ourselves to the galaxy again?"

This was yet another question that Din wasn't sure how to answer. "My tribe was wiped out because a Moff wanted my son. He is a Jedi. Killing another group of Mandalorians was just a bonus for him after taking part in the purge as well. I've dealt with him as I'm sure Bo-Katan told you. Him and his ship and his troopers and his trooper droids. He is no longer a threat." They shared a dark but understanding look across the table before he went on.

"Before that, with help from the handful of people I trust we wiped out two other remnants, the one on Nevarro and a large mining base on Morak. As for the rest of the galaxy, who can know."

Skord nodded. He was better at keeping his thoughts from his face than Din would likely ever be but he thought the older man looked mildly impressed. "When you came of age and took your vows, to which creed did you swear?"

That took Din aback. "The Resol'nare. Is there more than one?"

"Yes. A much older creed that did nothing to guide our ancestors away from their more violent and immoral tendencies. The Resol'nare was an updated code that went further. Still, our people roamed the galaxy committing atrocities. Our downfall if you ask me." His laugh was dry and bitter as he shook his head. "Before the last civil war the Mand'alor Jaster Merrell tried to update it again. Personally I wish he had been successful. Unfortunately not everyone agreed. Apparently they couldn't bear to give up raping and pillaging for coin or sport."

He paused and turned to Paz with only the slightest hint of hostility. "Especially the leaders of your clan, Vizsla." Paz shifted uncomfortably. Like Din, his buir had been killed during the purge. From what they understood, he had been from a secondary branch of the clan. Their tribe had forbade the kinds of reprehensible activities Skord lay at the feet of the Vizsla clan and the Death Watch.

"Anyway, after he was killed by the Death Watch his True Mandalorians became as radical as the violent faction that killed their leader. Our people would never be pacifists. But they won anyway. It only led to more bloodshed of course. Tell me Din Djarin, will you rally your people to make war on the galaxy like our ancestors? I doubt very much that you are a pacifist. How will you reconcile our proud heritage with the reality we now face as a near extinct race in a galaxy trying to find peace?"

Din winced. "To be honest… I don't know. Our Tribe didn't condone the kinds of things you are insinuating. We swore our vows to the Resol'nare but the code of conduct was strict. Personally I have no desire to go to war for no reason. As I've said, my primary concerns are for my family. My riduur, the child she carries and our daughter." Pausing, he tried to gauge the other man's expression. "You have a lot of children here. Like I've already said I'm not interested in throwing away our lives. Not when there are so few of us left and so many that depend on our strength."

He sighed and glanced at Paz again. His brother was watching him carefully, no trace of his thoughts on his face. Turning back to Skord he concluded. "But you're right. Our people are warriors and it's impossible to pretend otherwise. For now though… I want to make it safe for us to live in the open again. I am more than willing to listen if you have any ideas."

Skord studied him carefully before nodding once. "What do you think about involving the New Republic?"

Din had to bite back another sigh and an irritated eye roll. Omera had mentioned this to Bo-Katan but the other woman had been completely against it. There was no love lost between the Death Watch and the senate and she refused to entertain the idea of working with them again.

"My riduur suggested that but Bo-Katan seemed to think that such a concession would be a mistake. She doesn't want outside influence as she remakes Mandalorian society."

"But what do you think?"

The sigh escaped and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure. Omera, my riduur, may have connections there from her time fighting with the rebellion during the war. I don't see how else to bring our people out into the open without their backing as we are now. How large is the remnant in Sundari? Do we have the numbers to expel them on our own if we wanted to? We may need their help, if they'll give it."

"Hmm. I would tend to agree on that. I wonder what price they would demand, but there is no shame in asking for help. Our tribe is made up of Mandalorians from both the Death Watch and those that lived under the True Mandalorians. We have had to learn to compromise to survive. None among us are so proud as to reject the help of the New Republic if it means we can once again live in the open. Not anymore. Where is your riduur now? I would like to hear what she has to say."

A small smile twisted his lips. He already liked this man more than Bo-Katan. "In the city with the medic performing surgery on one of our group."

A genuine smile finally split Skord's face. "Ah, a skilled medic then?" Din nodded. "You married well, Mand'alor." He clapped Din on the shoulder as he stood. "I will gather the other elders to meet you but… personally I am optimistic for the first time in years. Come, let me show you around."

Din wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that but he and Paz stood and followed him back out into the cavernous section of ruins his quarters were in. It reminded Din of the covert that had raised him, only with exposed faces and smiling children. The main chamber they had first entered had appeared to have once been a large cave converted for their use. This section looked like some kind of submerged residential block. Looking around at the stone carved architecture, Din wondered at who might have built such an underground city.

"We were incredibly fortunate to find this place. It was abandoned like the rest of the ancient ruins on the planet but unlike the rest, these were mostly all underground and at least partially connected. Those of us that were living on Mandalore were already living in skyless biodome cities so this isn't so different, but for those that fled Concordia and other planets in our system it has been more difficult. Though if I'm being honest, as I'm sure you know yourself, hiding underground is hard on the soul. Especially for children."

As if summoned by his mention, several children approached. Most hung back as if weary of the new adults, but Winta stepped out from the group and came up to Din. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she looked up at him with eyes glowing even in the dimness.

"Are we leaving, Dad? Can we come back with Momma? Can we stay here?"

Din chuckled as he pushed her hair back from her face but Skord spoke first, a friendly smile still on his face.

"And who might this be?"

"This is my daughter, Winta. Winta, this is Braz Skord. He is the head of this tribe." When Din smiled down at her expectantly she pulled away from him and reached her arm out for Skord to take.

"Su cuy'gar, alor."

The older man nodded seriously as he took her arm. "Su cuy'gar, adiik be te Mand'alor."

When they heard this, some of the other children muttered in surprise but Winta only smiled back at Din. "Well Dad? Can we stay?"

"I promised your mother that we would be back before dark. But I think we will be staying for a while."

She beamed up at him as the female from earlier approached again. This time she inclined her helmeted head to both Skord and Din. "Mand'alor, may I accompany you? I need to see Minnedal and I would like to be of service if I can."

Taken slightly aback, Din raised a brow at her request but Skord huffed a laugh. "This is my niece, Asta Skord. Forgive her eagerness, she is one that has never thrived underground in the dark."

Din relaxed and nodded. "Alright. Let's go now then before it gets much later."

She nodded and removed her helmet again, handing it to Skord and tugging a poncho out of the satchel at her side over her head. Before, he hadn't had a clear look at her face. Asta was pretty, he supposed. Her dark hair was cut short just past her chin and wide green eyes smiled down at Winta as she took her red helmet back and slid it into her bag. She looked like she was at least a decade younger than himself, not that Din felt he could ever judge that with any kind of accuracy.

"I'm ready, Mand'alor."

He glanced back at Paz and when he smirked, Din nodded at Asta. "Alright, Asta." As they waved goodbye to Skord and headed for the first of several tunnels, Din turned to her. "But please, please call me Din. Or Djarin or kriff, even Mando."

Paz laughed at the confused look she gave him but she nodded as they passed through the entrance and into the tunnel. Din didn't think he would ever get used to this.