Here's chapter 2! I've gone back over this probably a hundred times and finally just had to be done with it. So it is what it is I guess haha! Again, I don't own anything and I'm not medical so bear that in mind. Probably will be just one chapter left after this. A HUGE thanks to all who reviewed, liked, and followed! Makes all of this that much more encouraging and fun to do so THANK YOU!


With a squeak of fear, Grogu shut his eyes without another thought and pressed his hands against the side of his father's chest. Instantly he felt the pulsing panic of Din's lungs, overwhelmed by the sourness he had felt earlier and struggling to work properly. If this didn't qualify as an emergency, Grogu wasn't sure what did. He'd accept a scolding later if he had guessed wrong—he didn't care what Din would say. Stubborn and determined, the infant pushed as much healing as he could into Din's failing lungs. He felt his father take in a slightly deeper breath beside him which encouraged him, but he found the sourness to be rather tricky. Wherever Grogu pushed healing, the sourness simply slinked away from his efforts to settle into another area of Din's lungs. It sort of felt like chasing an elusive frog in a pond, he mused. But Grogu was good at chasing, so he refused to give up. He managed to corner a handful of the sourness so it had nowhere else to escape to, and as Grogu pounced upon it to heal it away, he was confused by the persuasive, mysterious whispers rippling through the Force to FREEZE. The child paused his work to listen, unsure where they were coming from. But anxious not to let the sourness slip away, he pressed into it closer—and heard the whispers grow louder. The persuading argument to FREEZE grew more compelling. Instinctively, Grogu couldn't help but halt his own efforts, paralyzed by the sourness's suggestion. He curiously felt it swirl and sneak and soothe Din's lungs to listen to that alluring lullaby as well.

But FREEZING meant not breathing. Growling in frustration, Grogu redoubled his efforts, blocked out the tempting whispers, and focused harder to give Din's lungs more strength and oxygen. It was very difficult and taxing, but he eventually was able to resolve enough of the problem to allow his buir to breathe a bit easier. Grogu's own lungs heaved from the effort expended even as his father's swelled more naturally, and the panic subsided—for now. Grogu noted that the sourness still leaked from the spear head stuck in Din's gut. The nearly avoided disaster would most likely resurface. And as much as he was afraid to admit it, Grogu wasn't sure he'd be able to fight it off a third time.

Assured that his father was stable enough for now, Grogu made a quick decision and scurried back to the ship. He wheezed the whole way to the ramp and fought the urge to lie down and sleep, worn out from His use of the Force. He had to keep going for his buir! Rushing up the ramp and toward the criss-cross woven net that hung beside the cockpit ladder, Grogu gathered what strength he had left to climb. The thick net swung slightly as he hurriedly scaled the distance to the cockpit and was forced to take a second to breathe at the top. Recovering himself, Grogu toddled quickly to his father's seat and pulled himself up. He knew his father didn't think he knew what all these buttons meant, but he paid attention and knew enough. Leaning far over enough to climb onto the control board, Grogu toggled a single switch and pressed the adjacent button. He bounced impatiently as the hologram signal appeared and spun and pulsed, working to make a connection.

Thankfully, Cara answered soon afterward, still in her cockpit. As soon as her eyes caught sight of the green creature, she knew something was off. "Grogu, what's wrong? Where's Din?" Frustrated that he couldn't communicate with her, the boy simply looked over his shoulder and dipped his ears lower. His hands fidgeted in front of him, his eyes wide and blinking fast. Cara wasn't stupid. "He's gotten worse, hasn't he?" she surmised before instantly flicking switches and making a hard yank on her steering controls. "All right, I'm turning around. Hang on, buddy, I'm coming. You stay right with him until I get there, okay?" Grogu nodded in understanding as Cara cut the communication line. Relieved that help was coming faster, Grogu hopped off the control board, slid down the ladder's side pole, and scampered back towards his father who was still laying sprawled out on the moss like before. Thankfully, Din's lungs were functioning reasonably, but his color was still worrisome. Collapsing once again beside him, Grogu tried to fight off the tiredness, but the strain of the healing episode finally got the better of him and he passed out against Din's side.


The rumble of dual engines woke Grogu sometime later. Fighting off the underlying urge to sleep again, he weakly struggled to his feet and looked up into the dismal sky. Cara's jet-black fighter streaked across the marble's dome and towards the island. A surge of hope jolted through him, his ears lifting eagerly, as he waited for help to land. His attention shifted as he felt Din move beside him. The noise had apparently woken him as well.

Grogu surveyed his father and while grateful to see that he was breathing okay, he looked sicker and still in much pain. The man squinted his eyes toward the sky and recognized the teal-blue streaks on the sides of the incoming ship and sighed in relief. Din moved to try to sit up but with a sharp yelp of pain he ungracefully collapsed backward onto the moss. His good arm snaked across his waist, just below his cuirass, as his eyes shut tightly. "Perhaps that wasn't smart," muttered Din, breathing slowly through the discomfort. As hard as it was to hear the shaking of his tone, Grogu was consoled by simply hearing his voice again. Timidly, he reached out a single hand and tapped his father's shoulder. Din's head tilted to the left to look at his son. "Hey, Grogu," smiled Din, offering the boy a look of comfort even though he himself was uncomfortable. "You all right?" Grogu tightened his grip on Din's shirt and peered worriedly into his buir's face.

Are YOU?

Din would have chuckled if he felt better but instead simply smiled again, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes pinching deeper.

Hanging in there.

By now, Cara's ship hovered just above the ground a few yards away from the Crest and hissed loudly as the landing gear lowered. It only was a second before the ship powered down that the cockpit unlatched and Cara hurdled herself up and over the side, sprinting over to the pair on the ground.

"I got Grogu's message…what's wrong? What do you need?" asked Cara between breaths, standing over the duo, her arms outstretched in front of her at the ready. Din's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Grogu's message?"

"Yeah, he commed me to come immediately. Hence why I'm not in a bigger ship with….more qualified help," admitted Cara. Din turned his head to glance at his son in question.

Emergency, shrugged Grogu. Quit breathing. Healed enough. Called Cara. Come sooner. Din's face relaxed in understanding.

Oh. Thank you, ad'ika. You okay from the healing?

tired, sleepy. But okay, buir.

Good.

"No offense, but I can't read your minds when you do that whole 'stare into each other's eyes and read each other's souls' thing," sighed Cara and crossed her arms.

"Sorry," voiced Din aloud and attempted to sit up again without success. He couldn't stop the moan from escaping his lips and finally surrendered his body to the spot he was in, his expression contorting terribly. Grogu lightly tugged on his father's shirt to keep him lying down and patted his shoulder comfortingly. The boy urgently looked up at Cara for help.

"What's wrong? Where's it hurt? You look like a womp rat that's been dead for three days," mumbled Cara as she knelt beside Din's body and looked him over, noticing the sling. "Is it your arm?"

"My right arm's sore from a dislocation, but I was able to get that back in," explained Din breathlessly, bending his left leg up against the ground, hoping any change in position would distract him.

"No lingering nerve pain? No pinching?" questioned the shock trooper, personally familiar with that type of injury in the past. Din shook his head.

"No, no pinching. Just needs to heal. Problem is under here," confessed Din as he lightly tapped the chest plate. Cara squinted to survey the area and frowned at finding nothing evident. Grogu chirped and motioned the hidden hole from his side. Switching sides, Cara saw what Grogu was pointing to.

"Kriff, Din…" Cara sighed sadly as she took in the ugly wound. "What even is that?"

"A spear head. I broke off the rest." Cara's eyes briefly glanced up in sick awe before dipping back down to the injury.

"How deep is it in there?"

"I'm…not sure. But I think kind of deep," admitted Din as he watched her bend closer to inspect the wound. "Right now, the pressure from the cuirass is keeping it from bleeding too heavily."

"Okay…so…it needs to come out," stated Cara, bobbing her head sideways to emphasize the obvious. She glanced back up at the ships before looking back down at her friend. "We're both low on fuel and won't be able to reach help. So, we'll need to call someone here to come get us and get you help…the original plan basically." But Din shook his head.

"I'm not sure now we have that kind of time," he explained as his breaths began to grow more labored again. Raising his head slightly, he locked eyes with her and swallowed forcefully before speaking. "I think it may be poisoned." Grogu hiccupped in shock and turned his big eyes towards his father's face. Now the sourness made sense.

"Poisoned?" Cara's eyes widened. "Are you sure?" Din nodded.

"Something about it seems to have a strange effect on my breathing. Before too long I can't seem to get enough air or take a…b-breath," the Mandalorian replied, his difficulty in talking adding further evidence to his conclusion. "Grogu has already had to heal me twice to keep me going this long." Cara caught the look in Din's weary eyes that subtly communicated a third time around wasn't going to be an option.

"Okayyyyy, so it needs to come out now," amended the woman nervously as she realized then what she was going to have to do.

"Yeah," sighed Din as he rested his head back down and stared up into the sky. His companion bent low again to try to scrutinize the area.

"Man, I wish I knew exactly what we were dealing with here. I don't want to just yank it out of you without knowing what it looks like in case it causes more damage on the way out."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Din flatly replied, his eyes slipping down to sarcastically eye her.

"Can you tell if it's ruptured anything? Any organs?" questioned Cara as she very gently fingered the hole. Din involuntarily let out a hiss from the jolt of raw nerves her touch caused but shook his head.

"I don't…think so, but I'm not sure. We might find out once we remove the cuirass," he admitted, already not looking forward to that necessary event. Grogu for the first time saw a crack in his father's calmer demeanor when he noticed a brief look of fear blink in his buir's eyes. Nervousness rippled over unintentionally to Grogu, further confirming the momentary slip.

"You don't happen to own a portable ray scanner, do you?" Cara thought out loud, daring to hope. "It would help me get a look at where things are inside." Once again, Din shook his head. But the third member of their company had an idea. Grogu shakily reached out and tugged on Cara's pant leg. The shock trooper dropped her gaze to the little one in question.

Follow.

"He wants…to show you something," gasped Din, shifting slightly at the slowly increasing struggle to breathe. Cara's eyes turned to Din in concern but nodded and rose to her feet.

"Don't move."

"Funny."

The ex-soldier followed Grogu as he wearily toddled back towards the Crest and into the hull.

"Patu. Eh?" A single green finger pointed upward to the top crate in the nearby stack where the foreign spear was still stuck. Immediately catching on, Cara hurried forward and grabbed a firm hold of the weapon's shaft.

"Hruh!" she grunted as she wrenched the spear from the metal box and inspected the end. Sure enough, the six-inch iron end was coated in a thick, inky black sludge. But upon further inspection, that wasn't even what bothered her the most. "Dank ferrick…" she sighed in extreme disappointment. Unable to tell what made the woman's shoulders suddenly sag, Grogu worried the fringe of his tunic. He watched her scour the Crest for where she knew Din kept his medical supplies. It wasn't a lot or even all that she needed, but they'd have to make do. Gathering it up in her arms and grasping the spear, she headed back down the ramp with Grogu in tow. As they drew closer to Din, the man's closed eyes opened again as he heard his friends coming back. He blinked in surprise at the spear in Cara's hand but didn't bother to waste breath in asking where she found it.

"Okay, so I've got some more bad news," stated Cara grimly as she knelt back down beside him and dumped all the medical supplies nearby. She angled the spear so Din could see the tip. Grogu stretched up on his tippy toes over Din's side so he could also see the spear. Toward the bottom of the poison-coated iron cast were two vicious looking curled spikes, both extremely sharp. It would ensure deep slashing within should the spear head be pulled out the way it entered. But farther up the tip on the final three inches of the metal point were very tiny, curled barbs. Hundreds of them. No bigger than the curve of a pinky fingernail and incredibly sharp. Each one tilted in a different direction, ensuring that no matter how the spear head would be moved, tearing of soft flesh was inevitable. To top it all off, the needle-like width of each barb allowed for each individual one to break off and remain imbedded in its victim, ensuring a slow bleed to death.

"Haar'chak…," Din whispered grimly and closed his eyes in discouragement. Grogu whimpered, his lip trembling, as he eyed the offending, nasty weapon that had brought his buir this low.

"Yeah," sighed Cara solemnly as she surveyed her wounded friend and silently set the spear aside.

Dooming waves crashed in the distance.

Steeling her nerve again and knowing they had to try, Cara turned to organize and take stock of the medical supplies: lots of gauze, an old dermal regenerator, a scalpel, a small jar of bacta cream, a couple of bandage wrappings, and a tiny bottle of iodine. Her expression briefly soured at the few resources. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to numb the area, would you?" she asked, knowing he knew what she was going to have to do.

"No," Din responded quietly and swallowed hard. Cara simply nodded her head once, trying to keep calm.

"I think I might have a stim shot in my ship…might work as a decent plan B. I'll be right back." As the Alderaanian sprinted back to her ship, Grogu took advantage of the quiet moment to try to heal his buir again. He squinted hard and his little body quivered as he pushed healing and soothing into Din's ravaged body, but his strength was spent. Collapsing onto his rear as his lungs heaved from the effort, he felt the familiar Force presence of his father surround him.

It'll be okay, Grogu. I'm not going to leave you. I promise.

Grogu tearfully looked up as his buir tilted his head once more in his son's direction. The weathered brown eyes shone with calm comfort in the midst of pain as he reached up to affectionately rub a downcast fuzzy ear. Grogu sniffed and tucked his head into his father's palm.

Stay with you, buir.

Only if you want to, ad'ika…you can go back up into the Crest if you prefer not to watch. She's going to have to cut it out. It won't be pretty.

No. Stay.

Din smiled weakly at the boy's stubbornness and nodded briefly just as Cara returned with the stim shot.

"All right," Cara breathed out slowly, trying to maintain a grip on her nerve. She'd treated minor wounds before…but nothing like this. She shakily set the stim shot close by and clasped her hands together to prevent them from tremoring. But her friend caught the slip and reached out and enveloped both of her hands in his left. The motion drew her attention away from the meager supplies to his face. Nothing was said but the slight squeeze he gave her and the faint twinkle in his tired eyes communicated his trust in her. It was enough to keep going. She sucked in one large breath and got to work. "Okay, first thing's first. We need to remove your chest plate. How do I do that?"

"I'm going to have to sit up in order to get it off," explained Din, trying to remain all business, and dipped his chin to the left shoulder. "It unlatches on this side and slides off as a single piece." Cara nodded and rose to her feet to straddle Din. Grasping his offered good arm, she easily pulled him upward into a sitting position. Din's face screwed up at the painful sensations rippling across his abdomen and curled slightly forward.

"You okay?" worried Cara as she braced his shoulders. Din grimaced but jerkily nodded his head. Allowing him to take a second to regather himself, Cara's fingers explored the armored latch on the left shoulder that held the front and back plates together. It was intricate, but she managed to release it. Sliding down to the lower edge near his waist, she found the similar clasp and released it as well, loosening the beskar. She then realized a problem.

"My arm needs to come out of the sling anyway in order…in order for you to work," breathed Din, reading her mind. Bracing himself with his left on the ground, he gingerly slipped his sore right arm out of the strap so Cara could slide the heavy cuirass off the right side of his body. As soon as it was removed, Din relaxed at the release of the weight but cringed at the change in pressure. Blood began to ooze more steadily from the hole in his side.

"Mmmm," fretted Grogu as he eyed the precious liquid trickling out of his father's side at a faster pace than before. His attention shifted from the hole back to his father when Din groaned aloud and fidgeted uncomfortably as the lack of structure around his midsection allowed the pain to elevate. He bit down forcefully on his lip to try to stifle his cry. Carefully, Cara assisted Din back to the soft ground.

"You still with me?" she asked concerned. Din's forehead glistened with sweat, and he was now panting, but he nodded in firm determination as his fingers grasped shakily for the hem of his shirt. Cara assisted his fumbling and helped him roll up the material before carefully freeing him from the piece of clothing entirely. Quickly, she reached for a wad of gauze. Pressing it against his bare side and ignoring his flinch, she eyed Grogu. "Can you hold this here?" Willing to help, Grogu shuffled forward and pressed his two little hands with the gauze against his father's warm flesh.

Glancing at her friend to make sure it was okay to proceed, Cara inspected Din's chest. She very lightly ran her fingers along his abdomen, just below his rib cage. The offending object beneath his skin appeared more as abnormal swelling, but Cara was able to determine the outline of its exact placement. When she palpated closer to what would be the tip of the spear head, Din gasped harshly. "Sorry, sorry," apologized Cara quickly and tried to make her mapping inspection gentler. "Good news, I don't think it's as deep as we first thought," the marshal sighed in slight relief. Din swallowed, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

"Good," he acknowledged and continued to focus on breathing.

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure I can tell if it's ruptured anything or not," frowned Cara and then peeked at the gauze Grogu was holding. "Looks like only blood is leaking out and not acid or bile or anything so that's probably good." She unscrewed the cap of the iodine and soaked a patch of clean gauze before wiping down the area of his chest and abdomen around the spear head. She eyed the scalpel for a long moment before reaching to clean it as well. Next, she grabbed the stim shot and injected it into the soft flesh of Din's side, hoping it might curb some of the pain she was about to inflict. She allowed herself one long breath—in and out. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," nodded Din and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Cara nodded back and reached for the scalpel and then paused, the blade hovering just above his muscular chest.

"I will warn you: pretty patching isn't exactly my specialty. But at least you'll gain a rugged, heroic looking scar," the shock trooper promised, trying to lighten the tension.

"It'll go well with my collection then," the man quipped and allowed a brief smile. He took one more shuddering breath before letting his gaze wander back up to the sky and away from her poised hands.

"Okay. Here we go," braced Cara as she lowered the knife to his skin. She decided to start in the middle and work her way to his left side. The first cut triggered guilt as she watched the scarlet evidence of her infliction pool around the blade before trickling down her friend's side. Grogu murmured mournfully to himself as he grabbed another piece of gauze to try and keep his father's skin clean. He didn't like seeing his father like this. Made him more human and less immortal in the boy's eyes. Peeking over at his guardian's face, he watched the man pinch his eyes closed in silence as the blade made contact again. Painendurancesteadypiercing all rippled over to Grogu in a jumble from Din who was fighting to find the balance of persevering the slow torture.

Cara tried her best to be quick about it, making each slice count. To the Mandalorian warrior's credit, he held very still and didn't make a peep. He focused very hard on evening out his shallow breaths so as not to disturb her work. Only once did he groan and shy away slightly from her hands when she came close to the sore wound opening. She muttered a quiet apology as she made the final deeper cut to create the divide in the layers of skin, flesh, and muscle to open a gap for the spear head to eventually come out. One half of the stretch done, one half to go.

"Okay, take a quick breather," offered Cara as she paused the surgery to swipe her bangs out of her eyes with her forearm. Grogu heard and felt Din's chest shudder from the exhaustive release of holding so still. By now his hair was fully soaked in sweat and his gasps were harsh and difficult. The pallor of his skin was now an even worse shade of a sickening, pale grey, contrasted sharply against the crimson painting his stomach. Swapping out old gauze for fresh, Grogu quietly dabbed at the blood sluggishly pulsing still from the wound. A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, trickled down off his cheek, and mingled with his father's blood in the gauze.

Cara was more worried about the second half as this was the side of the spear head with the barbs. The angle also seemed to be a little deeper as well. But figuring she really couldn't do anything differently, she chewed her lip briefly before eyeing Din. He caught her gaze even as his body tremored violently. The poison was spreading faster.

"Just do it," the warrior told her firmly. "Don't stop. Just finish it." The shock trooper nodded in response and steeled her nerve once again. Leaning over Din she continued cutting along to the opposite side.

Right from the start, it was evident this part was going to be infinitely more difficult. Din's energy was already nearly spent so his body shook involuntarily at the effort to remain still. His fingers dug into the soft moss at his sides and clenched fiercely, grasping at anything to steady himself. His lungs heaved to suck in air, again making it hard for Cara to cut accurately. Even Grogu had a tricky time keeping up with mopping up the blood—which now had soaked and stained his tunic—while staying out of Cara's way. As the knife got closer to the end and travelled deeper, the complications only compounded.

"Aargh!" Din finally groaned, a growl rumbling from deep within his throat. He arched and curled his back, attempting to roll away in response to the pressure of the knife on the imbedded, barbed spear.

"No, no! Mando, do not move!" commanded Cara with authority, steadying her hand against his side and pressing onward. But Din either could not hear her or could not control his reactions as his body bucked once again, fighting to both escape the knife and to purchase oxygen. Grogu squeaked in fear as he watched the knife slip in the soldier's hand. "Din, you cannot move right now," barked Cara as she moved to straddle his hips to ground him without a second thought. "I'm cutting right above the barbs and if you move, it could do a lot more severe damage inside you so dank ferrick don't MOVE!" Bracing her left forearm across his collar bone, she effectively pinned him down and mentally drowned out his moaning. She refused to stop, knowing she just had to continue until the deed was done. As long as he was struggling and growling, she knew he had strength and breath. He was counting on her to finish the task at hand. Cara's own breaths were harsh and shaky as she awkwardly leaned close to him to keep her weight balanced while continuing to carve open his chest. Finally, what seemed like a sun's age later, the last stroke was made.

"Okay, done with the knife!" cried Cara gladly and tossed the offending surgical instrument to the side. She quickly slid off him and took a minute to check on him. Grogu followed suit and left the bloody stack of gauze to toddle closer to Din's head. The man's energy was gone, and his breathing was nothing short of thready and wheezing. "Din," called Cara and tilted his face more towards her, ignoring the blood stains her fingers left on his cheeks. His eyes started to roll back into his head as his body fought to black out. "No, no, no, no, no, you will not do this to me," threatened Cara and smacked the man's cheek to get him to wake up. His gaze for a brief second blinked back into reality. "Breathe!" When only a strained gasp was achieved before his eyes slid shut, the shock trooper shot to her feet and bolted back toward her ship.

Unsure what she was doing, Grogu drew closer to his buir. Extremely frightened but helpless to solve anything, the infant frantically patted his father's deathly pale cheek and whimpered.

Wake up, buir! Please, wake up!

Receiving no response either through the Force or out loud, he cried with a wail, wishing Cara would return quickly. Din's breaths were now almost hardly noticeable, his lungs failing to expand and constrict. Very worried he was in fact going to lose his father, Grogu buried his face into the man's neck and sobbed, his little body tremoring with emotion. He was ever so scared to be alone again. He couldn't bear the thought of not having the steady, protective love of his buir always with him. He just couldn't lose him!

Reaching deep into the Force, Grogu mustered any ounce of strength he had left and pushed it towards his father's lungs. The poison had nearly saturated the vital organs, paralyzing them. Similarly, fear threatened to paralyze the child. But he fought to remain awake and focused as he strove to give his buir yet another chance. The poison stung and bit angrily at his fingertips in the Force but receded just a smidge right as Grogu's strength began to crumble.

Suddenly strong hands scooped him up and away from Din. Crying at the separation, Grogu kicked and fussed but was still removed and plunked down a little farther over in the moss. Growling, the child rubbed his eyes to clear the tears to see the offender who had dared to tear him away from his buir. He saw now that Cara had returned and was kneeling beside the Mandalorian, hurriedly fastening a portable oxygen ventmask to his face.

"Come on, Din," urged Cara, a crack of worry penetrating her tone for the first time as she switched on the ventmask. The rhythmic wheeze and hiss, wheeze and hiss of the machine resounded as it worked to aid the struggling lungs, mimicking the sweep and crash of the waves beyond the cliffs. Cara and Grogu both held their breath as they waited for the oxygen to be sucked into his lungs. It was only a minute or two, but it seemed like forever until they noticed Din's lungs expand a little fuller and his breathing even back out. The supplied oxygen and forced ventilation were only a temporary fix and Din continued to gasp, but not nearly so bad as before. His brown eyes fluttered back open and sleepily turned to gaze up at both the woman and the infant beside him.

"You still with me, buddy?" asked Cara, her voice betraying a tremor. Din sluggishly nodded, his eyes tiredly peering over the mask. "Okay, good, cause I need your help for this next part." Grogu watched the soldier turn her attention toward him. "Grogu, I need yours as well, but I need you on his other side by the top of the spear head." Ears perked in rapt attention to obey whatever was needed to help his buir, the infant buried the deep need to sleep and hurried over to the right side. He listened carefully to the plan. "All right," breathed Cara, thinking through the scenario. "I'm going to work on carefully pulling apart the skin around the spear head first. The barbs could cause some tearing so I'm going to try to be as gentle as I can. Grogu, once I've determined I've cleared one side, I want you to hold that away from the spear head, so I don't have to pull it apart again. So, by the time I've cleared both sides, you'll have your hands on either side, holding the skin and tissue back. Can you do that?" Cara instructed hopefully. Grogu gave a single nod with a determined grunt.

The marshal then turned her attention to the Mandalorian. "Din, I'm sorry to have to ask you to do this, but in order to work and remove the spear head I'm going to need both my hands. So, I need you to pull your skin apart around the rest of the area so I can work to pull it out." The exhausted, discouraged look was visible even through the ventmask. "I know, I know," sympathized Cara grimly. "You don't have to do it until I ask you to, and I'll try to be quick, but I also don't want to tear up your insides more or leave barbs buried in there. The more you try and relax, the looser your muscles will be and the easier it will be to pull apart and extract it." Din closed his eyes tiredly but nodded as he loosened his grip on the moss. Cara guided his shaking hands to his midsection and positioned them—one palm flat above the wound on his chest and the other palm just below, low on his belly. She noted that his skin was now hot to the touch, meaning only one thing—infection.

"One thing at a time, Dune," she commanded herself and regained her focus on the task at hand. Pulling the muscle tissue and skin layers away from the barbs was tedious but thankfully not as difficult as she feared. Cara was ever so grateful that this portion of the surgery didn't involve as many nerves, so Din didn't feel quite as much. Meanwhile, the man had found a workable rhythm for his gasping; it was rather pathetic sounding, but at least the additional oxygen was helping. Cara carefully freed the upper portion of the wound from the spear's barbs, and Grogu obediently placed his hand on his father's chest and pulled the flesh out of Cara's way. He felt his father shift uncomfortably beneath his tiny fingers and grunt at the pain.

"Okay, so this bottom half is in a little deeper, but I think this side should go faster now that I have more control over it," Cara narrated as she was encouraged at her earned mobility. Unfortunately, a couple of barbs had previously broken off at some point and were imbedded in Din's flesh that she'd have to come back and remove. His muscle looked a bit rough and inflamed, but luckily there was no significant tearing. Cara thanked the heavens for small mercies. However, one particular clump of barbs was embedded deeper, a little closer towards his skin layers. Shifting her stance so she could lean in and see a little better, Cara tried to carefully untangle the flesh from the metal. Grogu worriedly eyed his father and watched his breathing pace pick up and his facial expressions contort sharper and faster in sync with Cara's movements.

"Try and relax, Din. You're tensing up," advised Cara, freeing another sharp barb. Grogu swallowed and noticed his buir wasn't relaxing. Eventually it must have been too much or a particularly sensitive nerve was struck as Din suddenly shot sitting up. The man grunted loudly and curled inward to try to ease the pain, his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. Grogu frowned in trying to keep the skin pulled away even as his father changed positions. Burningagonysharp.

"WHOA! No, no, Din, please, no," begged Cara but sympathy flooded her tone. "I know it's very painful, but if you move, you'll undo all of the work I just did to try to separate and free it. C'mon, let's lay back down. I promise, I'll be done soon." She gently positioned her hands on his chest and back to slowly coax him back to the ground. Din's body remained tense for a minute more before relaxing once again from exhaustion. After giving him a second or two to breathe, Cara checked on her progress. Luckily only two barbs got rehooked and only one tore free so there wasn't much to redo. Din didn't jolt again but his breathing remained audibly unsteady from behind the breathing mask. Finally, Cara let out a short huff and prepared herself.

"Okay, Grogu, put your other hand there and get ready. Din, get ready to pull. You don't have to do much, just enough so I can get my hands in and get a grip on it," instructed the shock trooper, her tone growing more excited at seeing the finish line.

"Okay…" Din whispered tiredly and readied his palms.

"Patu," echoed Grogu and waited for Cara's signal. The woman continued to maneuver the spear head gingerly with both hands to free the remaining barbs until finally…

"Got it! Okay, now pull the seam apart gently and we'll get this sucker out of you," breathed Cara eagerly. Both Grogu and Din pulled and separated their sections of the wound, one's face scrunched in worry and the other's face in strained pain. "That's good, that's good…keep it up. Almost there," stated Cara as she eased the piece of metal—slick with blood and poison sludge—out of the cavity in Din's body. "DONE! I got it!" she cheered and deposited the foreign object victoriously off to the side. "Wait, don't ease up, there's a couple of barbs in there that were underneath I need to extract…"

"N-now…you t-tell me…" grumbled Din and resumed his duty of widening the crevice in his midsection. His hands and whole body quivered from the effort.

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," assured Cara as she delicately removed each lingering barb one by one. Not having tweezers made the task very difficult with her fingers. The blood was beginning to pool a bit and making it hard to see. "There, I think that was the last one! You can let go."

Din instantly sighed at the ease of pressure, but his hands continued to shake at his sides. All three of them were covered in blood. Cara unknowingly brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, sending a smear of red across her skin.

"That's got to feel better, right?" She was pleased to get even the barest of smiles from behind the mask.

"Yes…t-thank you, Cara," Din responded with a very fragile cough. Cara patted her friend's good shoulder.

"Take a minute to rest. I'm going to see if I can find some clean water to flush out the wound as much as I can. We'll still have to get you an antidote or something but the more we can remove while we have you open, the better," she explained. Rising to her feet, she paused to ensure Din was stable enough before heading back to the Crest.

Grogu busied himself with trying to mop up the excess blood leaking from a small tear somewhere. Thankfully the flow had begun to slow as it coagulated. He tried to keep his focus on his hands and his task; otherwise, he was sure he would either pass out from exhaustion or burst into tears. He settled for a sniff and a blink to keep himself awake and reached for another wad of gauze.

"Hey, b-bud."

Grogu looked up, surprised to see Din's attention. The man looked like death, his hair thoroughly soaked through and his voice barely more than a whisper. But his tired eyes were able to maintain focus.

"Meh?" Grogu cooed questioningly, taking a step closer to his father's face. He watched the moisture from his father's breath fog up the medical mask.

"Have you eaten anything s-since all this happened?" Din asked worriedly, his gasping strained. "I just realized I never g-got you anything when we landed here."

Grogu felt both love and exasperation for his selfless father. Food was really the absolute last thing on his mind at this point.

I'm fine, buir. Taking care of you.

Din sighed and gave his son a soft smile. And you've been doing a wonderful job. Thank you, ad'ika. I'm not sure what I would have done if you had not called Cara to come sooner. You saved my life.

Still saving, Grogu thought back, his lip trembling a bit. Din must have sensed his fear rippling back and gingerly raised a shaking hand to gently stroke his ear once.

We're a lot closer to the finish line now, pal. I'll be back on my feet in no time, you'll see, promised Din just as Cara was heading back toward them. Grogu rubbed his face into his buir's palm and held his father's hand close a moment more before the silence was broken.

"All right, I was able to find some sealed water bottles," shrugged Cara and held two bottles up for Din to see. "I assume these are purified?"

"If it's safe enough to drink, it's safe enough for my insides," wheezed Din and waved his hand apathetically.

"Okay, well, I figure I'll flush the wound, clean it, and then wrap it. I've decided I'd rather not use the dermal regenerator until you've been looked at by a doctor," admitted Cara as she knelt beside him. "I'm going to need you probably on your side so it can drain. I figure on your left side, so you don't injure your bad shoulder…"

The shock trooper helped the Mandalorian to roll over and steadied him with her hip as she worked to unscrew the bottle. The angle was awkward, and Cara eventually had to resort to helping flush out the leftover sludge with her hands some, but the wound was at least much cleaner afterward. With Grogu's help, Cara managed to clean up the blood and mess from Din's chest and abdomen. Reaching for the jar of bacta, she carefully applied the cool gel around the wound and was thankful Din relaxed under the soothing numbness the cooler temperature brought to his hot skin. She then heaved him up to a sitting position and wrapped him securely with fresh bandages.

"Not too tight?" she questioned as she made sure she could tuck her fingers between the wrappings and his chest. The last thing she wanted to do was make it even harder for him to breathe. Din simply shook his head no. The last series of efforts had officially worn him out. Cara could now easily feel the heat radiating off of him, and he looked like he could fall asleep any minute. "All right, one last thing…I need your help to haul you into the Crest and then you can rest, but I don't want you to fall asleep, okay, Din? I'm not sure what all that poison is doing in you. So, until we get you to a doctor, I need you to stay awake, okay?"

Din offered no visible response that he heard her.

"Hey! Mando! You hear me?"

"Don't fall asleep…got it," the man whispered, his voice sluggish and exhausted, thick with fever.

"…and unless you want me to carry you bridal style or drag you, I'm going to need your help getting you inside. So, on your feet, Mandalorian!" urged Cara, knowing the command would cause him to move. Her authoritative tone perked up his attention and he raised his hand for help.

Grogu watched Cara heave Din to his feet. The man wavered unsteadily but he thankfully found his footing on the soft, flat moss. The shock trooper shouldered most of the weight and was careful around his wound, wrapping his good arm around her neck. Grogu hurriedly cleaned up the supplies and scurried after, his arms full. The trio trudged up the ramp with Din setting the pace, leaving the salty grey marble behind them. Inside the Crest's hull, Cara deposited Din onto the pull-out cot from the side wall that she had already setup for him. She personally hated his cubby hole of a bunk and never understood why he didn't just always use this cot. The wounded patient all but collapsed onto the bed and sighed at the relief of a softer mattress under his body.

"Okay, I'm going to work on trying to patch up the Crest and try redistributing my fuel into yours so we have enough to get somewhere," explained Cara as she worked to make Din comfortable on the cot. "You can pay me back later by giving me a trip back here to pick up my ship."

Grogu dumped the medical supplies and Din's shirt in a crate that he could reach (someone would clean all that up later he decided) and toddled back over to the pair of adults. Tugging on Cara's pant leg to garner her attention, he was soon set next to Din on the bed. He watched Cara brush the back of her hand against Din's cheek and forehead, letting it rest there for a brief second. Her mouth turned downward in a frown before she turned off to the side to wet a cloth and then settled it on his forehead. Standing back up to her full height, she sighed again as her eyes swept over the man.

"Keep an eye on him, Grogu. Don't let him fall asleep. Call if you need me or if his fever gets worse," instructed Cara before grabbing Din's toolbox and heading back outside to fix the Crest.

"Mm-mmeh!" Grogu called out after her in the affirmative and turned his attention to his human. He very much would have liked to have fallen asleep himself, but a job's a job. He wasn't about to let his buir down. He settled himself cozily into Din's side between his arm and his chest on the blankets and folded his hands in his lap, ready to keep a vigilant watch.

Doing okay, buir? Grogu watched Din's closed eyes briefly open into tired slits.

Okay…sleepy… Din's communication through the Force even seemed wearier.

Can't fall asleep, buir.

I know…

Grogu watched Din's eyes slide closed again.

Buir…no sleeping.

I'm not sleeping…my eyes are just tired.

Looks like sleeping, buir, mused Grogu with a grunt.

I'm still talking to you, aren't I? Din peeked a single eye open sarcastically before sliding it shut again. Did you ever eat?

Not hungry.

Yes, you are. I just heard your stomach growl.

Grogu peered down unhappily at his tummy for betraying him.

Go find a snack, Grogu, encouraged Din kindly.

Hungry too, buir?

No, thank you. I'll take some water, though.

Grogu nodded and slid off the cot to search for a snack and water bottle in their pantry. He tugged out a drawer closer to his height and curled over the side, feet dangling in mid-air. Finding a peanut butter protein bar and a small water bottle, he tipped himself back out and shut the drawer before toddling back to the cot.

Still not sleeping, buir? Grogu asked dutifully as he lugged himself and his goodies up onto the bed.

Still not sleeping, ad'ika.

Grogu purred in approval and nudged his father to hand him the water bottle.

"Thanks," Din muttered aloud as he removed the oxygen ventmask for the time being. His face pinched in pain as he stiffly craned his neck so he could drink without choking. Grogu was glad to see him drain the entire bottle before easing back down. The infant turned his attention to his bar when his stomach rumbled again, and he fussed unsuccessfully with the package. "Here," offered Din as he slowly reached over and gently took the snack away from Grogu to open it for him. The father carefully peeled back the wrapper so it was simpler for his son to hold and eat the bar without getting it all over himself (and Din). He then replaced the oxygen ventmask and sighed as he closed his eyes once more, glad to be able to breathe a little easier again. Grogu happily nibbled on the peanut butter and kept his vigil.

Don't sleep, buir.

Yes, Grogu, thank you.


It was another hour before Cara had the Crest patched and the fuel cells transferred so they could take off. They wouldn't be able to go far, but it was better than being stranded and having to wait for help. After checking on Din to make sure he was still breathing and rewetting the cloth on his forehead, she settled into the cockpit to find the nearest spot with a medical station. Pulling up the ship's log, she found that the last logged location prior to the current planet they were on was one called Tolmon. Frowning with curiosity, she pulled up the profile and found that Din had logged in a name associated with this unfamiliar planet into the system: Dr. Micah Stolten. Figuring it was someone Din trusted and noting it was just within range, she gambled and plotted a course. She thanked the heavens the Crest was an older model and not too difficult to pick up and learn as she blasted out into the dark void, leaving the stony cliffs and endless ocean behind.

Now a sea of stars lay before her.

Besides the comforting white noise of the Crest, there was finally peace. Leaning back in the pilot's chair, the exhaustive weight of everything hit her like a ton of bricks. She let out a long, slow breath and allowed herself a minute to rest.

"Mehhhhhh!" came a panicked cry from the hull.

So much for resting.


Leaving a chapter on a cliffie is mandatory, right? No? Well…too late. Extra frogs to those who review!

Mando'a Translations:

Buir = father

Ad'ika = affectionate term for child

Haar'chak = damning curse phrase