Chapter 34

-clan-

As he started to come to, the first thing Migs noticed was the humming. He couldn't place the tune, but it was pleasant. It was a woman's voice he thought, though not one he recognized. Cara didn't seem the humming type and Mera had always mixed in off key lyrics now and then when she hummed along as she focused on something. She still did. It had made Cara laugh the other day as she worked for more than two hours to pull shrapnel from his leg.

This was someone new. With that realization came a brief flare of panic until he remembered where he was. Batuu, med clinic, surgery, his fucked knee. Whoever this was, fucked knee or not he wouldn't go down easy if they tried anything.

Scrunching up his face at the dry, disgusting taste in his mouth, Migs tried to open his eyes. It took him several seconds to adjust to the dim light to be able to see anything. The overhead LED's were off, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner.

Beside the lamp, sitting in the only chair in the room at the side of his bed, was a woman he'd never seen before. He knew because she had the kind of face a man wouldn't ever forget. His impression of her was helped by the way the dim light illuminated her features just so. She was beautiful.

Blinking hard and trying to push sappy ideas from his mind, he looked away only to be drawn back for a completely different reason. She was a Mandalorian. A red but distinctive helmet sat on a narrow table to her left and the armor she wore was similar to Din's except for the color. They must have found the covert then.

He swallowed and ran his tongue along his teeth. There was nothing for it, he needed a drink. Sighing, he tried to think of something to say but couldn't. Thankfully he didn't need to. His sigh must have been louder than he'd thought. Bright green eyes swept up from the middle distance she'd been staring at to his face. As soon as she registered that he was awake, she was on her feet.

"You're awake!" When he only raised a brow at her statement, her eyes widened and she huffed an awkward laugh. "Do you need anything? Minnedal is resting and the Mand'alor and his riduur are back at the covert for the night too so… I'm here if you do… Need anything that is."

What was she talking about? Mand'alor? And what the hell was a riduur? His confusion must have been plain on his face because she blushed and corrected herself. "Sorry. I mean… Din and Omera. He said not to call him that but, well." She shrugged before seeming to realize something and turned away to another side table.

"Here, the anesthetic leaves a bad taste for some reason." Handing him a small glass of water, she helped him sit up better on the pillows so he could drink it.

Migs hated having to rely on someone else like this, especially a stranger. At least she didn't hover. Once he was sitting up sufficiently, she moved back to her chair and waited for him to finish. Now that his mouth didn't taste like the underside of a bantha, he glanced up at his companion.

"Who are you?"

He ignored the way her lips looked as they parted slightly in confusion before she laughed. It was a light, musical sound. "Right. My uncle is head of our tribe. I volunteered to help the Mand'alor… that is, Din."

Nodding as he fingered the now empty glass in his hands. "You got a name or is that a secret too? Din used to not share that with anyone. Called him Mando till recently."

She arched a brow at that but smiled. Kriff, she was pretty. Migs blamed his momentary fixation on the pain meds. "No, it's not a secret necessarily. Besides, you're part of Din's clan so I can tell you." His clan? When had that happened? Boy he must have missed a lot. "It's Asta. My name is Asta Skord."

"Asta." She nodded. "You keep calling Din... Mand'alor? What does that mean? Is that Mandalorian for 'jerk with too many enemies'?"

The look of utter shock and indignation that replaced the pleasant smile made Migs laugh. That was the wrong thing to do. Her frown deepened as she finally found her words again. "Jerk with… no. Has he not told you?" When he only continued looking at her with amused confusion, her frown turned smug. "Din Djarin wields the Darksaber. He is the new Mand'alor, the leader of all the remaining clans, of Mandalore. If he calls, all will answer."

Now it was Migs's turn to stare at her in shocked disbelief. It didn't last long. Oh of course he was! King of all the Mandalorians. Migs flopped back against his pillows and laughed. One hand over his eyes, he laughed harder at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

"That fucking Hutt-spawn… When did that happen? In between bounties and rescuing his kids?"

Asta was looking at him like he'd grown a second head. He realized that to her, this Mand'alor thing might be important and here he was mocking it. Well, she didn't know the history he had with Din or much of the man himself he'd wager, or she would see the humor too.

"Listen, I don't know what he told you but our relationship hasn't always been so friendly. When we first met, we were part of a group gig. Anyway, we backstabbed him. Left him in a cell on a New Republic transfer ship and ran. Well, there were some problems getting back to our ship… or his ship I guess… anyway that cell couldn't hold him and he rounded us up one by one and left us in another cell and took off. I still don't know how he broke out but none of us could manage it."

"So you're a cheating bastard then?"

He smirked at her flat glare and tried to sit up again but the movement caused pain to surge up from his leg. Waving her away when she stood to help, he sighed and gave up. "Ya I was. I've made a lot of stupid choices but I still ended up here in the end. Anyway we all got what we deserved. When the transport was intercepted by New Republic officers, we were all shipped off to labor planets."

Now she looked confused. "How did you go from a cheating ex associate stuck in a prison labor planet to someone he considers part of his clan?"

Sighing heavily, Migs stared up at the dark clay ceiling. "I didn't know he felt that way."

"Before he left earlier he told me to make sure I took good care of you, that you had everything you needed. He said you were part of his clan and that he wanted you treated as such."

Fuck. That did not make him feel anything sentimental. He couldn't think of a reason for Din to care that much. Omera might, sure, but Din? Maybe helping a guy save his kids a few times went a long way towards endearing you to him. He muttered under his breath. "Jerk gets married and goes all soft…"

If she heard what he said, she didn't show it. She sat quietly and waited for him to speak again. Clearing his throat, he looked back at her.

"Three or four months after we were arrested, he and Cara showed up. She's a marshal for the New Republic so with her authorization they got me out of there. His son had been kidnapped by some big shot remnant Moff and he needed my help. I…"

She was watching him keenly but he found himself hesitant to tell her about his time with the Empire. Out of all the bad decisions and immoral things he'd ever done, his years as a stormtrooper were by far the darkest. Deciding it didn't matter what she thought of him, no matter how pretty she was, he sighed and continued.

"I was a stormtrooper in a past life." As expected, she drew in a sharp breath and sat back in her seat. Well, he was repulsed by it too. "They needed to find a remnant base and get in to access the coordinates for the Moff's light cruiser. Two things I could do. So I did. I also shot my old commander for being a mass murdering jackass and that made getting out of there a little more difficult but hey, Din understood. Blew up the whole base on the way out so it felt like a win."

This time when he glanced over at her, she looked thoughtful. A slight frown bent her brow and her lips were pressed against her index fingers as her elbows rested on her knees. She looked like she was trying to understand something but he didn't know what.

"Anyway, Cara reported me as dead so I've spent the last nine or so months wandering around pretty aimlessly. I mostly took people around for money. That's how I ran into an old… friend. A crazy chicken that was in on the job we did with Din that landed us all in prison. She said he killed her brother, I don't know… Guess she escaped somehow and wanted revenge so she managed to get a hold of his chain code, a new crew and a tracking fob. Ran into her just before she headed off to find him. The sick bitch wanted to go after his kid."

It was a little satisfying to see the murderous glint in Asta's eye at the thought of someone going for Din's family and she'd only just met them. "Well instead of going on my merry way I ran to Cara and after a holo call that was too late we went after them. By the time we got there she'd already snatched his girl. Naturally we went with him to save her. That's how this happened."

He gestured at his leg, bandaged from ankle to mid thigh in thick, tight gauze. "There was an explosion and one of the assholes on the new crew decided to bash my knee in. Anyway. We saved her obviously."

Finished with his story, Migs stared up at the ceiling again and waited for her to say anything. Reflecting on the last year, he guessed he'd gone a ways to making up for some of his mistakes. Still wasn't sure he deserved to be considered 'clan.'

"For us, to Mandalorians… family is everything. You helped him save his children twice. If there was any debt or bad blood from the job you did together… that would more than make up for it. You risked your freedom to warn him when you didn't owe him anything and then were badly injured when you went along to save Winta. I'd say that makes you clan."

Wasn't that something. Hadn't he just been whining a week ago about his lack of purpose? Now the newly minted ruler of Mandalore considered him family. Maybe he would stick around for a while after his knee was better. Din might need his help again. He glanced at Asta. Besides, he wouldn't mind getting to know her better either. Laughing to himself, he met her serious gaze and he smiled. "Ya… I guess it does."