A/N OK. I feel like it is important to address the idea that the Mandalorians in the show are coded as post holocaust Jews. I think this is nonsense and honestly problematic but because of the idea of cross side relationships and the conversations that happen in this chapter I feel like I need to explain myself. If all we knew about their people or history was what we got from the new show then I could maybe see the comparison. HOWEVER we have a lot of history. Comparing the Jewish people, who have historically been persecuted and NOT imperialist mass murderers is messed up. The Mandalorians have been just that. In legends, there are many examples of the horrible things they have done and the entire populations they have wiped out. They commit genocide. AND, while I do not condone nor agree it was the right call, I can understand why from a strictly military point of view why the Empire chose to eliminate them. They were a military threat, they cost the Empire in all of the ways that putting down constant insurrections cost in men, and resources. It really wasn't like they just saw a new planet and thought, meh we want to live here now lets kill them all. Which the Mandalorians have done. Again, not saying the Empire hasn't done horrible things and I am not saying wiping out the Mandalorians was a good thing, just trying to explain why I really don't like comparing them to Jews. this is relevant to my story because I think it is clear that I created Asta with Migs in mind and I can not imagine a holocaust survivior being with a former Nazi soldier. That just… feels all kinds of wrong. I don't want anyone to come into this with that poor comparison in mind and be offended by the way my story is going.
Chapter 38
-confusion-
It had been a stupid idea, he could see that now. Mera had told him to be careful and not to try to get up by himself but he was sick of being so helpless. He should have listened to her, she was usually right. Now he sat sprawled awkwardly on the floor. His knee had given out after only a few steps and it throbbed with pain at a crooked angle.
"Dank ferrik!"
Migs grabbed his thigh and groaned as he tried gingerly to straighten it. Managing that, he leaned back against the side of his bed and sighed in frustration. Asta was around somewhere but he didn't want to call out to her.
He hadn't needed to worry about that.
The sliding door to his room slammed open and she appeared, beskar chest plate missing and flight-suit hanging open, revealing a tan colored tank beneath.
"What happened? Migs are you ok? Why are you on the floor?"
Suddenly she was crouching beside him, hand on the bed beside his head as she looked into his face with concerned, questioning eyes. With her flight-suit hanging open, he could see that the freckles that dusted her face did in fact extend down her slender neck and across the tops of her breasts. He'd wondered about that. Distracted, he ran his tongue along his teeth as he tried to think of an answer to her question.
"Thought I'd take a sightseeing stroll through town…. Forgot I'm still an invalid." When he finally drug his eyes away from her chest to her face, she was watching him with pursed lips and a slight frown.
"Omera told you not to try that on your own yet. You need a brace and help or, a crutch at least." She smacked his shoulder and tugged up the zipper on her flight-suit. "And don't stare at my breasts."
Sighing dramatically, he held his hands up in defeat before dropping them to his lap. "Ya I know; listen to Mera, don't stare at cleavage right in front of my face. Fine, got it. Kriff will you just help me up?"
One of her dark brows arched in question.
"Fine. Asta will you please help me off the floor?"
Smirking, she stood up and leaned down to help him. "Omera was right about you. Rude and grumpy." She grunted softly as she hauled him to his feet far easier than someone of her size should have been able to. "Not that I don't understand. You've been stuck here for days with mostly only me for company."
Once she had him sitting on the edge of the bed again, she stood back, hands on her hips. He tried to smile but winced instead when a muscle in his leg twitched, causing more pain to shoot out from his knee. Reaching down to rub the offending joint, he smirked at the floor and shook his head.
"Eh, don't be too hard on yourself. You're not terrible company." Looking up at her again, he took a moment to appreciate her disheveled appearance. More than just her chest plate was missing. "Where did you come from in a hurry?"
Blushing, she tucked her hair behind her ear and met his curious gaze again and laughed. "Oh… I was in the fresher when I heard you fall. It's a good thing you fell when you did. I wouldn't have heard you if I'd already been in the shower."
Well there was a mental image he didn't need. "Hmm. Good thing…"
"Why do you call her, 'Mera'?"
He cocked his head to the side in question as he adjusted how he sat on the edge of the bed. "What? Oh, Omera? I've always called her that."
She nodded, her lip trapped between her teeth. "Known her a while then?"
Half of his mouth turning up in a smile, Migs nodded. "Ya… we met when we were teenagers at the Imperial academy. We were… best friends for five years. Until she faked her death and escaped that nightmare… Thought she was dead until I showed up with Dune after her kid was taken."
When she didn't say anything right away, he looked up from his lap to see her mouth hanging open in what he could only describe as shocked horror. "The Mand'alor married an Imperial soldier? Why would he do that? After the purge..."
Feeling instantly stupid for bringing it up and for thinking of Asta at all, he got defensive. "Where else did you think she learned to be such a skilled medic? She was like me, raised on a core world by Empire sycophants and surrounded by propaganda. As soon as we got out of the academy and realized what we were apart of, we wanted out. But… you couldn't just walk away. They killed deserters. After she 'died' I couldn't take it anymore and I did just leave. I don't know how they never caught me, I didn't exactly make it hard for them."
The angry, hurt look she gave him only made him more angry. "Don't look at me like that. You have no idea what it was like. I know I've done some fucked up shit. But we were people too, under that ridiculous white armor. I was just a kid following orders so I didn't get shot too."
He did not feel guilty for raising his voice or for the confused, frightened look on her face. She had already known what he had been, he'd already told her. And what business was it of hers who Omera was or who Din married?
"I…" Cutting her off, he waved at the door unable to look at her another moment.
"Just… go, Asta. I'll be fine by myself until Mera comes again."
Migs didn't look up until he heard the main clinic door slam shut behind her. Dank ferrik, he shouldn't have told her any of that. It wasn't his place to tell her about Omera and he wished she didn't know about him either. He already hated himself enough for that part of his life, he didn't need to see the disgust in her pretty green eyes too.
DO
"Oh, honestly!"
Din looked up from where he was adjusting Winta's stance to see Omera frowning down at herself. She was watching their training today—they were working on how to use a knife in a hand to hand fight. Winta noticed his distraction and looked over at her mother too.
"What's wrong, Omera?"
She sighed but smiled up at him. "Your child is very excited about something. He's been rolling and kicking and generally making a nuisance of himself for the last five minutes." A pained laugh escaped and her hand pressed down on the top of her belly. "Get your feet out of my rib cage!"
He laughed too. "Is that so?"
Winta looked back at him with pleading eyes. He nodded and she slid her knife away and ran up to Omera. "Can I feel Momma?"
Din watched the scene before him with a tender, happy smile for a while before he joined them.
"Oh,I felt that! He kicked me! Oh! That one felt bigger, was that his head?"
Omera laughed and hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not sure. Here, what do you think Din?"
She took his hand and pressed it to the side of her stomach, just beneath her ribs. After a moment something small pressed insistently against his hand. He didn't think that would ever get old. "I'm not sure, Winta… that felt like a foot to me."
Winta giggled and moved her hand. "Momma, how do you know it's a boy? It could be a girl."
"I don't know for sure he's a boy, Winta but… I just really think he is."
Winta didn't look convinced but she shrugged and smiled up at Din. "Well either way, I bet he just wants to train too. Isn't that right? Dad's a good teacher. Don't worry, he'll teach you to be just as cool as me when you're bigger."
Smiling softly and filled with pride and contentment, he kissed Omera's temple and slid his hand from her stomach around her back. "By the time he'll be old enough, you'll have passed your own verd'goten. You will probably help me teach him." She giggled and he ruffled her hair.
He was about to get them back on track when they were interrupted again.
"Mand'alor, I mean… Djarin?" Looking over his shoulder, he saw an extremely nervous looking Asta.
"Yes, Asta?"
Leaning around him, Omera gasped when she saw the younger woman's face. "Is everything alright? Did something happen with Migs?"
When addressed by Omera, Asta flinched and looked away for a moment, confusion and hurt on her face. "No… he's… well, I think he might need you actually." She still refused to look at her and Omera frowned.
"Well, ok." She looked to Din. "I'll go find Cara and we'll see what's up. He should be able to come back with the crutches. Maybe we'll have lunch in town and bring him back."
He nodded and kissed her once before she slipped out of his arms and went in search of Cara. Asta nodded to her as she passed but kept her eyes on the ground. Confused at her behavior, Din crossed his arms and nodded for her to continue.
"Could I… I need to talk to you, sir." She looked pointedly at Winta.
"I'm in the middle of something right now, Asta. Can it wait or is it an emergency?"
Clearly frustrated but not wanting to be disrespectful, she took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.
"Did you know that your riduur was a stormtrooper?"
That explained a lot. Migs, damn him and his mouth. He sighed heavily and looked down at Winta. She was frowning at Asta, her arms crossed too. "Winta, we're done for now. I'm sorry but this is important. Go see if you can be helpful to the Armorer. Remember where her room is?"
Nodding, she hugged him and ran off. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned back to Asta. "I'm guessing you talked to Migs?"
She looked aghast. "You knew? How could you marry her? After everything our people suffered because of the Empire?"
He frowned at her and gestured vaguely for her to follow him. "Because I love her. And because she wasn't a part of our peoples suffering so her past didn't matter to me anymore than mine matters to her."
"But… they were still a part of terrible things. And, if they had been there how do you know they wouldn't have?"
Din sighed. "What did he say exactly?"
"He said they met at the Imperial academy and that they were both stormtroopers. He said he did terrible things and that he was just trying to stay alive." She scoffed. "Following orders! Omera was a part of that! They were best friends!"
"Did he tell you how much they wanted out? How much they hated what they were a part of?"
Asta shook her head. "They might have wanted out but they still participated in horrible things. He said they would have been killed if they didn't follow orders. Well, wouldn't that be better than murdering innocent sentient life?"
"Asta…" He looked down at her with exasperation. "We're Mandalorians. Our people have been ravaging the galaxy, making war on anyone we thought weaker than us for millennia. We have committed more genocides and atrocities than even the Empire."
She sighed in frustration but clearly wasn't swayed. Remembering what Skord had said about her family, he tried a different tact. Seeing that they were more or less alone in one of the tunnels, he slowed to a stop and put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to face him.
"Your Uncle told me about your buirs. I know how hard that has been for you. My buir was killed during the purge too…"
Her eyes snapped up to his and her confusion and hurt boiled over as she tried to interrupt. "Then why don't you understand why I feel this way!"
He silenced her with a weary frown and continued, his voice softer. "I do, Asta. But, Omera and Migs… they had nothing to do with that. That kind of violence is why they got out as soon as they could. They aren't responsible for what happened to your buirs or mine."
Clearly wavering at the thought of her parents, Din pushed on.
"Our people's entire legacy is one of violence and war. We have more enemies that would prefer to let us die out for what we've done to them at some point or another. But we're going to ask them to help us anyways despite our history."
She looked up at him, confused and wide eyed. "The galaxy is a dangerous place and I know you've experienced that. All I'm saying is, before you judge my riduur and someone I consider clan…" He gave her a pointed look and she dropped her eyes back to the ground. "Remember that they have more than made up for their wrongs as far as I, or our people are concerned. Omera spent almost three years fighting with the rebels. Did he tell you that? And besides helping me rescue my children, twice, Migs stopped a second wave of Empire genocide when he decided to blow the mining base on Morak."
He could hardly hear her reply. It was so quiet over the sound of their steps. "No… he didn't tell me any of that." She looked up at him, her expression uncomfortable and apologetic. "I reacted badly when he told me about Omera and I upset him. He told me to leave."
Din dropped his hand from her shoulder and sighed. "I expect you to try and talk to him about it at some point then. If you want to come with us when we leave you'll be stuck on my ship with him. It'll be awkward for everyone if you two don't work this out and I'm not leaving Migs."
She nodded but didn't say anything else as they started to head towards the residential chamber again. "Why were you so upset about it today anyway? Migs told Omera that he mentioned his past to you days ago. It didn't seem like you cared before."
Running a hand through her hair, she blushed slightly and looked away. "Well… he seemed so resentful of that part of his life when he mentioned it and.. he only mentioned it in passing as he explained about helping you rescue your son. He didn't go into so much detail." She shrugged. "I knew it but I guess it didn't really… sink in... Then when he mentioned Omera and the academy he sounded like he was recounting his fondest memories. Like it wasn't actually a big deal. I guess I just… realized that you had married someone who was part of the same group that murdered my parents and so many of our people and I was so confused. He got defensive and started explaining more and I just… left when he told me to go."
Din shook his head. "Are you going to be ok with them, Asta?"
When she nodded, still looking thoughtful and mildly uncomfortable, he sighed… again. "Good. Now… go and find your Uncle."
"Yes, sir."
After so many exhausting conversations and dealing with people all day, Din thought he understood why past Mand'alors had been so eager to go to war. He almost missed bounty hunting, it required less talking.