Din woke not with a start but a deep sigh, releasing the tension his body had built up dreaming about the woman he had made dar'manda. He rarely let himself dwell on the memory of her in the ten years since she was declared an exile. The promise he made to be a better person never strayed far from his thoughts. He could be that man now. Din was that man now. Cora no longer needed to serve as his reminder of the things he had done. He could allow himself to forget her face. For the most part, Din had succeeded in doing so.

Cora's face was mostly a blur after ten years. If he saw her in a crowd he would almost certainly not know who she was. Almost. Those amber eyes that burned into his mind and soul with shame were still as clear as the day he had seen them. Shame was a powerful weapon that her eyes wielded masterfully. He had accepted what had come to pass long ago, but those eyes would never let go of him. They would never forgive. Acceptance and forgiveness were two very different beasts.

Din had been dreaming of that moment when her eyes landed on him more and more since rescuing the child. He knew the dreams were just his subconscious trying to process everything that had happened in the last few weeks. Trying to compartmentalize doing what he knew was right by saving the child with the repercussions that the covert had surely suffered. Tribe first, always. But Din couldn't just leave the child in the hands of some imps and their nefarious plans. In a way, he had done exactly what he had done ten years earlier. He put his own wants before thinking of how it would affect the Tribe. But this time, he didn't feel remorse over it. Din did the right thing this time. He saved an innocent life rather than snuffing it out.

Joints in his shoulders popped and cracked as he stretched the sleep from his limbs. He had fallen asleep in the cockpit again, gazing at star charts and plotting their routes and next moves. Sorgan had been a bust and now Tatooine was no longer an option. There were a couple uncharted planets around the Dra'hac System that held promise. But Din would need to stop at a station for a refuel and resupply before charting out that way.

Behind him, the child stirred in his bassinet. Din turned to watch the kid blink and yawn his way awake and cooing contentedly at the rest he had had. It had to have been a much more comfortable sleep than what Din had. He had made sure the kid's bassinet was full of the softest blankets the Razorcrest had to offer. Which wasn't saying much. Having a child on board had started making Din question some of his more sparse living arrangements.

Even Cara Dune had mentioned needed to child proof the ship starting with his weapons cabinet. Din was fairly certain there wasn't anything in there that the kid could really hurt himself with, and Din was responsible with his weapons. Guns locked, ammo stored separately. Although, the vibro blades were loose in a drawer; that was pretty high up and out of the kid's reach. But the kid did do that weird hand thing that could move things if he concentrated hard enough… Yeah, he'd should get a new lock on the weapon cabinet. He'd speak to a someone at the station about that.

"Morning." Din greeted the toddler before turning back to his star charts. The kid babbled incoherently back at him as Din heard the kid climb, slip, and nearly fall out of his bassinet before toddling over to Din's chair. He raised his hands towards his caretaker, impatiently huffing when Din didn't immediately pick him up. After another moment of being ignored, the child took matters into his own tiny hands and clumsily climbed up Din's legs and into his lap. Din mumbled out an apology as he absent-mindedly unscrewed the ball from the thruster and handed it to the kid. The ball was immediately in the child's mouth where Din could hear tiny teeth scrape against metal. Chewing on the ball couldn't possibly be good for the child's teeth, but Din knew almost nothing about the little alien's physiology. Maybe metal filings were good for him. Probably not. Based on the chronometer on the dash, it had been a while since the kid had eaten.

"You want food now or can you wait until we stop at the waystation?" He asked the child, half expecting a coherent answer from the kid. His ears perked up slightly at the mention of food but his attention was solely focused on the ball in his mouth. "Waystation it is." Din sighed, typing coordinates into the ship's computer to plot his hyperspace jump. With the ship's course set, Din shifted the now ball-less thruster. The pair sat in silence for the briefest of moments before the Razorcrest shot off into hyperspeed. Din watched at the toddler in his lap stopped chewing on his ball momentarily to watch the stars streak past in brilliant blue lines. Every time, every jump, without fail, the child sat mesmerized by the streaks of starlight for a few moments. The bright light reflected off the child's large brown eye. Watching the starlight seemed to magnify the child's already overly large eyes in a sense of awe and wonder. Din couldn't help but smile at the sight. He hoped the child would never grow tired of watching the stars streak past their window. He knew that eventually even the stars would loose their appeal. Eventually it would be just another jump, just another mundane thing in the child's life. As it had for Din. As it had for nearly all spacefarers. But right now, the kid's awe was nearly contagious.

Din shifted back into his seat, propping his legs up on the dash. The child immediately took advantage of expanded space on Din's lap, sprawling out across his legs. Using the slight incline of Din's legs, the child tossed the ball towards Din's ankles and let his favorite, albeit only, toy roll back towards him. Din had to admit, he enjoyed watching the child entertain himself. It reminded him of some of the children and foundlings in the covert and made him just the tiny bit homesick.

Journeying to the waystation wouldn't take long, a little over an hour to the stop for a refuel and resupply. He needed to get more dry rations for the kid. How the tiny toddler was bottomless pit of hunger and went through the tasteless bricks like candy baffled Din. Blowing through rations at warp speed was becoming costly. It used to take him weeks, if not months, to run through a standard supply. If Din didn't get any new rations soon, the kid probably would actually eat his little, metal ball. Din hoped he'd be able to track down a decent job while at the waystation. There was no guild presence on the station, which was why he picked the place, but that made finding decent credits just that much harder.

The thought of taking on merc work floated through his mind a few times since leaving Navarro. But Din stopped those thoughts as soon as they entered him mind. The small child teetering on his lap, so dependent on Din doing right by him, meant he couldn't take just any gun-for-hire job. The more illicit jobs of smuggling and spice running were out of the question. And taking on bounties with no one to watch the kid left a sour taste in his mouth after Tatooine. It worked out well enough thanks to that mechanic, Peli. But she was unknown variable that could have caused a lot of trouble for him and the kid. Din was certain Peli was a fluke, a stroke of luck that she had a soft heart.

No, Din needed something easy. Something safe, low profile. Hells, he needed something legal until he found his way to Dra'hac. The Crest was no freighter, but a decent sized cargo transport job could get him enough to last a while.

Gods, what had he become? Xi'an would die of laughter looking at him now. No better than some New Republic apologist taking safe jobs because he had a kid to think about. But the thought also made him smile. When he was on Sorgan, Din fully intended on leaving the kid behind. Omera was a good mother and would have raised the foundling like her own. But now? Now Din couldn't imagine leaving the little thing behind. The child was his to protect; he was Din's foundling now. He had rationalized saving the child a thousand times – it was the right thing to do; it was the honorable thing to do; the child was an innocent in harm's way. But watching him now? As he sat on Din's lap, playing with his toy and babbling contentedly? Din liked this. He liked how easily the child trusted him and found comfort in being near Din. Hells, he even had to admit the kid was cute in his weird, alien way.

Sensing Din was watching him, the child turned to look at his caretaker. His ears perked as he climbed across Din's lap and up his chest. Resting one tiny hand against Din's helmet, the child leaned in close as he tried to peer through the helmet's visor. He squealed with delight as his other tiny hand banged the metal ball against the side of Din's helmet. It wasn't hard enough to hurt either Din or the helmet, but it was unexpected and just loud enough to make Din recoil with a groan.

"What was that for?" Din managed to grab the ball laden hand before he could be hit again. Peals of high pitched giggles the only answer he got. "No hitting." Din pointed his finger at the child to reinforce the order. It was met with more giggles. "Wamp rat." Din chuckled as the Razorcrest dropped from hyperdrive.

The station was only a few kilometers out as a crackle came from the Crest's comm unit. "This is Station Draulere One, we're tracking you. Head to bay E-35."

"Copy that. Locked in for E-35." Din responded as he busied himself prepping the ship to land.

The outpost was little more than a glorified watering hole boasting a less than ideal number of hanger bays, a single cantina that serviced the entire station, and a limited number of rooms for travelers that needed to stay for longer than a standard refuel. It was surprising how small the station was considering how deep into smuggling routes it lay.

A bored Rhodian dockworker slowly scrolled through a data pad containing Din's papers and manifest. "20 credits per day for docking. Refuel for an St-70's gonna be another 45 credits per kilogram of fuel. Resupply of rations and other goods have to be ordered directly from the cantina. Shipment of purchase goes directly to your docking bay. Delivery of goods is contingent on the cantina's schedule; May take an hour, may take a day. Docking authority cannot speed delivery times. Go out the hanger doors, take a right to the lift. Two floors up and the cantina is on the left." The administrator gave him the rehearsed spiel without looking up at Din. He understood from their bored tone they weren't the type of dock administrator that could be bartered or bribed for a reduced fuel price.

The two talked standard maintenance and upgrading the lock on the weapons locker while the child floated in his bassinet a couple meters behind Din. He watched curiously as the docking crew went about their business working on the Razorcrest. Most of them were humanoids, but there was one droid walking about the bay. Din kept an wary eye on it as he talked with the Rhodian. The child watched it because the droid was carrying a rather large circular container and he wanted that ball.

After a moment the bassinet was trailing behind Din as he made his way out of the hanger bay and toward the lift. The lift's doors took a minute to open. When they did, he was met by a man towering over a small, human woman cowering in a corner. Her eyes immediately shot passed the man to Din. She was a child, a teenager of no more than 16 years. And she was terrified as she clutched her arms around her torso. Sneering, the man looked over his shoulder at Din.

"This doesn't concern you, Mandalorian." He spat, turning back toward the girl.

"Please…" She whimpered to Din as the other man's attention was back on her. The man had never met a Mandalorian that didn't value a credit more than business that wasn't his. Turning his back on Din, expecting the Mandalorian to walk away, was a mistake. He didn't hear Din stalk behind him. It didn't even register that Din had joined him until it was too late. A gloved hand fell upon the other man's as he reached out for the girl.

"Leave her alone." Din warned him. Sensing Din's shift in demeanor, the child quickly leaned out of his bassinet to press a button to close the pod's hood.

"It's not your business, Mandalorian." He tried to pull his arm free of Din's grip, but he would not let go. Din edged around the stranger and positioned himself between the man and the girl.

"Leave the girl alone." Din threw the man's hand back at him.

"That slave's master cheated me and I'm not leaving 'till I get what I'm owed." He tried to bypass Din to yell directly at the girl, pointing his finger past Din to touch the girl. Din matched the man's movement, blocking the girl from view and swatting his hand away again. "She's just a slave" The man tried to reason with Din, as if that mattered to him at all.

"She's a child." Din corrected him, stepping forward to push the man back.

"Who gives a fuck? She's a slave." He tried to sound brave, but the extra step he took to back away from Din betrayed his false confidence. Din said nothing in response except take another intimidating step forward. Din was taller than the man by a miniscule amount, but the sight of the fully armored Mandalorian made the man feel like Din was towering over him. He took another step back out of instinct to stay out of the Mandalorian's reach.

"Last warning." Din took one more step toward him.

"I… I deserve what's owed. Her master-" He back backed away again stepping just outside of the lift's door. Din immediately closed the door, cutting the man's argument off with the whoosh of gears.

"What hanger is your master's shipped docked?" Din asked, finger hovering over the button panel.

"I… Will he… My master… What?" She was afraid and confused as she tried to process the helmeted man before her. Din turned to level his gaze on the girl which only seemed to reinforce her fear.

"What hanger?" He asked again, softening his voice and trying to relax his stance so she could see he was no threat to her.

"G-16."

Din pressed the button for G level. "Go back to his ship and tell him what happened. Tell him if he plans to send you out on errands again, he needs to send a guard."

Hew rapped lightly on the child's pod with his knuckle before releasing the hatch. Confused, the child popped forward to take in his surroundings, looking for signs of a fight. When there was none to be found, he looked back at Din even more confused.

"Eh?" The child seemed to ask Din what happened. Din shrugged just enough to appease the child. Convinced nothing more would come to pass, the child relaxed and sank back into his bassinet.

"My name's Hana." She stated after watching the strange helmeted man interact with the strange alien child. The fear had subsided from her eyes, but her arms were still wrapped tightly around her body to protect herself. Though she was obviously still in a fight or flight mode, she waited patiently for Din to give his name.

"You can call me Mando." He finally replied.

"You're a Mandalorian and your name is Mando?" She asked suspiciously like he was playing some kind of mean joke on her.

"I didn't say it was my name. It's what you can call me." Din carefully and patiently explained trying to coax her down from her flight response.

"Why can't I know your name?" She asked, her arms finally letting go of her sides. "Are you some kind of wanted criminal or something?"

"No." Din smirked at how close to the truth she was.

"Is that your kid?" Hana pointed to the child.

"He's under my care."

"Why don't you like answering questions?"

"Have I not answered every question?"

"Not satisfactorily." Hana huffed, leaning against the lift's wall. She was much more relaxed now that she had gotten some answered. Even if they weren't to her liking. Din couldn't help but smirk. Most people assumed they had offended him when he won't give them his life story within a matter of minutes of meeting him. Leave it to a teenager to get snippy with him about it.

"My master will want to thank you for helping me." Hana stated as the lift doors opened. "He's nothing like what that man said. Garrick is a good man."

"Garrick?"

"Garrick Sha." Hana answered proudly. Din's shoulders involuntarily squared at the mention of Din's old acquaintance. The Garrick Sha that Din knew was every bit the cheat and liar that the man a few levels up claimed him to be. It couldn't have been the Garrick Din knew. That man could barely rub two credits together, let alone feed and house a slave or afford to own and manage a ship.

Entering the hanger bay, Din was met by a massive luxury yacht that sat out place in the small hanger bay. No, it couldn't have been the Garrick Sha Din knew. He would have had to pay off more debts than Din could count to buy and keep a ship of that size and grandeur. Multiple guards sat around the hanger bay, watching the dock workers as they worked on the massive ship. Din stopped at the bay doors, taking in the sight of numerous guards.

Hana walked a couple of steps ahead of him before she realized he wasn't with her. She stopped, looking back at him confused why he wouldn't come into the hanger bay. She waved him in as two of the guards noticed his presence.

"Oi, boss." One of the guards shouted towards the ship. After a moment, a large, muscular man sauntered his way down the ramp. There was no doubt the big man walking towards the guards was Din's old acquaintance. He'd aged slightly since the last Din saw him; his hair was much longer and starting to grey much in the way Din's was. The guard that called out to Garrick motioned in Din and Hana's direction.

"Hana?" Garrick asked, walking briskly towards her. "What are you doing back-" He cut himself off when he saw Din standing a few meters back from the girl.

"I'm sorry, sir." Hana walked towards him. "There was a man, and Mando helped me."

"Haha!" Garrick barked out a harsh laugh. "Shiny new armor, but I'd recognize that bucket anywhere!" He stepped forward, clasping a hand on Din's shoulder and giving him a friendly shake.

"Garrick." Din replied pulling out from under Garrick's grasp.

"Fortune smiles upon me." Garrick laughed. "Have I got a job for you."