Decisions
Din stared out the windshield of the cockpit, watching the stars pass by. The skies were peaceful today, but then again, there was no one else in this corner of the star system right now. His hands were resting distractedly over the controls.
Something kept nagging at him. Something instinctual. Whatever it was, it seemed to say, Keep going. Don't stop.
Which was ridiculous.
The shootout on Nevarro happened a little over a week ago. They had traveled much farther than necessary and shouldn't be hassled by anyone at this point. Din even doubted that the Child still had a bounty on his head. And even if he did, the tracking fobs only worked over a certain distance.
He shook his head a little to try and clear it. Yeah. They had covered enough ground. They should be fine.
The Child was sitting in the crate, on the passenger seat. Although it provided him with a secure place to sit and sleep, especially if they hit any turbulence, it did little to motivate him to stay in it. Just like how it was with the pram, the Child had absolutely no problem climbing in or out.
Din listened to tiny feet padding across the floor of the cockpit. This was actually difficult, given how near-silent the Child was. Din didn't mind, so long as he was nearby and didn't interfere with anything. Though, Din much preferred he was in the safety of the crate. Also, it should've been expected that the Child would get bored easily. Not like there was anything fascinating on the floor to begin with.
Din heard a coo, and looked down. The Child was standing on his tiptoes, claws dug in to the edge of the pilot's seat to keep himself steady. He was staring up at Din, head tilted to one side. An ear flicked questioningly.
Din also tilted his head, confused and wondering what he wanted.
The Child freed up one of his hands and raised it, as if reaching for something. Din just kept staring at him, not certain what that meant. The Child whined, sounding frustrated. He started teetering a little on his tiptoes, trying to find his balance as he pointed at the control console.
Din thought that kind of made sense. "No," he shook his head. "And you should get back in the crate." He was about to turn his attention back to the stars, but for some reason couldn't in that moment.
The Child dropped to the flats of his feet. He whined again. This time, it was a noise of disappointment. He looked away, down at the floor, and his ears drooped.
Din sighed heavily. Oh what the hell, why not.
As soon as the Child saw movement, his ears immediately perked and his eyes widened happily. He reached upwards, bouncing ecstatically on his feet. Din caught him under the arms, and he cooed loudly as he was lifted. It was a gleeful and carefree note, and the corners of Din's mouth nearly twitched. Din placed him on a flat section of the console. The Child then settled exponentially, almost serenely.
Although Din didn't exactly want him up there, it would only be for a few minutes. And he certainly couldn't blame him for wanting a change of scenery.
They'd been in flight for a few days in a row now, since the marketplace. Normally, Din didn't mind the solitude of the Razor Crest, but even he had to admit that he was getting cabin fever. He couldn't imagine how the Child felt. If this cured some boredom, and if he was being supervised, then what was the harm?
It was probably best to find a destination at this point. Better now than never. And perhaps he could find work to replenish all the credits he spent at the marketplace. His first and reflexive idea would be to do some bounty hunting, but not every planet offered that. He would have to figure that out once they landed. He tried to concentrate on the radars in front of him.
Out the corner of his eye, the Child remained where he was on the console, near the gear shift he was always intent on dismantling. This time, instead of gnawing on the little silver ball, he was gazing around at everything.
Din observed that the way the Child looked at the console versus looking at the stars seemed to be two different types of fascination. One was wonder, at how vast and endless the sky seemed. The other was curiosity, at how technical and shiny all the buttons and switches were.
The Child cooed and murmured idly, mostly to himself. Din didn't think he was actually trying to talk, but he listened anyway. While the Child was still fairly quiet, and Din still didn't understand him most of the time, he was still trying to pay attention to the noises he made. At least that way he could locate him should he trot off to a random part of the ship.
The Child liked wandering around the Razor Crest. For example, the other day he somehow managed to get down into the hull without any help. Just like how he always managed to get a hold of the silver ball. It was all a mystery to Din. Although, he supposed that if the Child could manage to get in and out of the pram or crate by himself, then perhaps ladders weren't impossible for him. That said, he hadn't appreciated the moment of anxiety when the Child had disappeared for that split second.
The Child eventually got bored of looking at the sky, and turned his complete focus to the console, and all its lights. He flicked one of the switches. Its green light went out, and there was a hissing noise. He looked around, wondering what it did.
It wasn't anything too important for the moment, just an automatic stabilizing switch for the landing gear, which Din preferred to do manually anyway. Din pushed a few buttons on his side of the console, just to counteract things if they got off balance from that. However, the Child's curiosity had clearly been piqued, so Din watched him carefully.
Reaching forward, the Child flicked the same green switch again, turning it on. There was a dramatic whirring noise, causing his ears to perk and analyze the sound.
"Stop touching things," Din instructed evenly.
The Child instantly turned to face him. His face scrunched slightly, and his ears went up and down in contemplation. Then, he looked right up at Din, expression neutral. He reached behind himself, and slowly leaned backwards.
Without breaking eye contact, he flicked a completely random switch.
The Razor Crest began to shake and jolt.
Din flicked the same switch, making everything stabilize. Without any hesitation, he picked the Child up again. Though the shaking had stopped, he still felt the need to hold the Child against his side, in the crook of his arm, just in case.
Din wasn't mad, at all. He didn't have a reason to be. Even as he watched him push the switches, even as he swiftly removed him from the console, he felt no anger whatsoever. This was, after all, a child, and he couldn't fault him for that. If Din could have the stoic patience for a universe filled with annoying chaos, then he could certainly have the same patience for an infant. Especially one who seemed to unknowingly attract a portion of that chaos.
Gripping one of the controls with his free hand, he analyzed the radar in front of him. "Let's see," he muttered, observing a nearby planet. "Sorgan. Looks like there's no star port, no industrial centers, no population density. Real backwater skug hole. Which means it's perfect for us."
He looked down at the Child, who he still held securely in his arm. "You ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple months, you little womp rat," he asked. He looked at the radar again. "Nobody's gonna find us here."
The Child made a sound of naïve affirmation, and stared at a random spot on the console.
As they flew overheard, Din carefully observed the woodlands, homesteads, and marshes that made up this part of the planet. It was a gorgeous place, really. Peaceful-looking.
He landed his ship in the middle of the forest, out of the way of any prying eyes or residents. He looked down to see the Child grabbing at one of the controls. Quickly, but gently, he stopped the little hands. The Child babbled and smiled up at him.
"Now, listen. I'm gonna go out there and I'm gonna look around." He stood up, taking the Child with him. Spinning on his heel, he set him down in the pilot's seat. Not like he would stay seated in the crate anyway. "Shouldn't take too long."
Realistically, the Child couldn't follow him everywhere, especially during more dangerous times. Din had to get used to leaving him on the Razor Crest. So long as the ship was landed and locked up properly, there shouldn't be too many problems with doing so.
Once he was out of Din's arms, the Child's smile faded. Din still didn't exactly know what all he was capable of understanding. This was a fifty-year-old baby, so who knew what he had learned during all those decades. Sometimes he understood simple direction, but most of the time he would do the complete opposite, or nothing at all. Or was that typical of all children?
The Child certainly wasn't unintelligent. Din could see that clear as day. Naïve and stubborn, yes, but that was to be expected due to how young he was. Or, at least young for his species. The Child was also attentive and observant, brimming with curiosity and analyzing every little thing he saw.
However, what still resulted from all of this was a language barrier that Din didn't know how to navigate. He had no idea how to communicate whatsoever.
"Now," he began firmly. "Don't touch anything. I'll find us some lodging, then I'll come back for you." He paused, and then pointed towards the floor. "You stay right here. You stay. Don't move. You understand?"
The Child made some sort of huffing noise under his breath.
Din then pointed at him approvingly. "Great." He turned away to go down into the hull. He was fairly confident that the Child understood, to some degree.
He scowled to himself, though. He at least hoped he had properly conveyed that he would definitely be back as promised, and quickly. He didn't want to be gone for more than fifteen or thirty minutes.
He opened the side entrance of the ship, revealing a vast forest, sunny skies, and a pleasant climate. Just as the door was coming down completely, he felt a presence. Right next to him. He looked down.
He and the Child made eye contact at the exact same time.
Din had pretty much lost the fight with the silver ball, that much he accepted. But he really couldn't lose this one, thinking of the Child's safety and well-being foremost. That said, he had a hunch that the Child was just as eager as he was to get off the ship for a bit. Besides, this planet didn't seem like trouble, and he would make sure that the Child would keep up.
Just this once, he would let him tag along for some scouting. He sighed. "Oh, what the hell. Come on."
It seemed that landing here had been a waste of time. Which was a damn shame, considering he needed to make some tune-ups to his ship. However, it sounded like Cara Dune, a previous shock trooper, might have a bounty simply for sticking to her morals. He respected this, and understood that she wanted to lay low without a hunter nearby. If he chose to be stubborn and stayed, he had no doubt that another brawl with her would ensue. He currently didn't want any attention to be drawn to him or the Child.
Before leaving the cantina, he gave Cara his word that he and the Child would leave at daybreak. Those tune-ups had to happen as soon as possible, before departure.
Thankfully, they were pretty minor. Greasing some hinges, tightening some bolts, and double-checking the landing gear. He began working that evening. Just like when he and Kuiil had worked on the ship, he always kept the Child in his peripheral.
The Child stayed nearby, wandering around and looking for something to do. He spent his time picking at some moss or watching the wind rustle the trees. He seemed calm, if a little bored. There was nothing Din could do for him, though.
The sky started to darken. He had no problems working through the night, so he brought out some spotlights and illuminated as much as he could. There wasn't much light pollution on this planet, which made the woodlands hauntingly dark. It was also very quiet, save for the frogs croaking a shrill melody in the marshes.
Din and the Child were sitting down on the ramp, having dinner and watching the night. Soup, berries, and jerky were being eaten. They had gotten all of these things at the marketplace, which Din was mentally patting himself on the back for. Everything was delicious, and the Child was munching away.
The frogs' cries momentarily sounded sharper, but not unpleasant. They were probably just reacting to the shift in air or water temperature. The Child's ears perked up and his eyes brightened. He looked at Din, and then pointed towards the marshes.
Din shook his head. "No. You're not eating frogs tonight." He shoved the bowl of food closer to the Child, and stood up. It was time to get back to work.
As he made more repairs to the ship, he felt a bit of frustration. This was a peaceful place, and could easily be hospitable for anyone who landed here. He perfectly understood Cara's trepidation, but he had a Child to look after. He and Cara were evenly matched. He didn't want to fight her, and even if he did, it would probably just end in another stalemate.
"Dank farrik," he grumbled to himself, resigned. There were other planets after all, and landing here had only been a precaution anyway.
He briefly paused his work when the sound of an astromech's motor reached his ears. After double-checking that his blaster was where it should be, he walked around one of the ship's skids to get a better look. Although, while he despised droids, it wasn't often that astromechs had malicious intent.
There was a tiny light in the darkness coming towards them. Narrowing his eyes, he activated the thermal imaging in his visor. A small droid seemed to be pulling a wagon with two figures inside it. The light attached to it also gave off a heat signature, meaning that it was probably a lantern.
Din relaxed a little. If it was anyone intending to do them harm, specifically anyone from off-world, then they would be a lot more stealthier than this. He was more annoyed than anything. Great. Now they had visitors. Still, it was best to be cautious.
He turned towards the Child, who was still sitting on the ramp and fidgeting with the empty bowl. He had also noticed someone was coming, and was squinting in an attempt to see through the darkness.
"Get inside," Din told him. "Don't come out until I say."
The Child muttered something incoherent, and continued to sit there for a few seconds. Then, he got up, walked inside the ship and stood amongst the cargo. Din would've preferred he hid completely, so he closed the door, with the Child watching, until he was concealed inside.
The two men in the approaching wagon were krill farmers, as it turned out. Just locals. Din went about his work, and they followed him, and they chattered about needing help or protection or something. None of that really mattered to Din, given that he would be leaving any minute now actually. The repairs were done and he was just double-checking. He also needed to run some diagnostics once up in the cockpit. He only vaguely listened to the farmers.
They were persistent. Money in hand, desperation, and a quick sob story. At least they were straight to the point, but they were useless to him. If they found Cara, perhaps she might like the opportunity for money. But it wasn't his job to voice that type of thing, and it was time to go.
He again opened the side entrance of his ship. The Child was waiting inside, shifting impatiently from foot to foot.
"Now we have to ride back," one of the farmers was griping miserably as they finally walked away. "With no protection, to the middle of nowhere."
At that mention, Din spun around. "Where do you live," he asked them.
There was an irritated pause. "On a farm. Weren't you listening? We're farmers."
"In the middle of nowhere," Din clarified.
"Yes," one of the farmers confirmed, the answer almost sounding like a question.
In that split second, Din pieced together a flimsy plan. Flimsy, because it was a last minute effort and he didn't even know if it would work in his favor. But this place seemed ideal for their situation. He could leave the Razor Crest here, live the next few weeks on a krill farm until the dust settled, and then be on his way.
He asked the farmers to help load up the wagon they'd brought with them, and they did so enthusiastically. Din placed the Child in the wagon. The farmers finally took notice of him, but didn't ask any questions. He closed the entrances of the Razor Crest, and hoped that the trees would be enough to conceal it from any ships that might fly overhead.
After the farmers handed over the credits, he said, "We needed to stop somewhere first."
In order for his plan to work, Cara was the one he needed to convince.
The Child decided that while the wagon was a change of pace, it wasn't an unpleasant one. It glided along smoothly, much smoother than the Razor Crest. However, he much preferred the latter. It was spacious, shiny, and made lots of noises. The moment he had woken up on the Razor Crest from the mudhorn incident, he had liked it immediately. It was so much better than his pram, of which had disappeared at some point, and he was grateful for that.
He fidgeted with the blue blanket, which he also liked. But he pushed it away from his body in order to have something soft to sit on.
"It's cold tonight," the man with the helmet remarked. The Child made a humming noise and some eye contact, but didn't really respond further. He shrugged. "Suit yourself."
The Child was learning names as he went. Names of places, star systems, people, and species. However, he still didn't know the man's name, though he really enjoyed traveling with him. Ever since leaving Nevarro, they had done nothing but travel, and it was the most excitement he'd had in years.
He heard people call him Mando or Mandalorian, but he didn't think those were his actual names. The Child had forgotten many things over the years, and some things he was beginning to remember. But he never forgot his own name, and he wished he could tell it to the man. Unfortunately, he wasn't capable of that type of speech just yet.
They met up with the woman named Cara, who agreed to help with a problem that these two farmers were having. Her and the man talked for a while, and the Child did his best to keep up with the conversation, but ultimately couldn't. Eventually, the talking died down, and the man leaned against the edge of the wagon, relaxed for the moment.
The Child mimicked him, laying down on the blanket and staring up at the stars. They looked different from the ground. They were there, but out of reach.
Though he was very happy to be out and about, he missed the Razor Crest already, and wondered when they would be back. At least the man was close by. Knowing him, they would be back in no time.
A few hours later, daylight broke through the trees, gradually and in no hurry whatsoever. The Child awoke in the same manner, blinking slowly. The sound of songbirds replaced the frogs, which he lamented. He couldn't catch birds, but it was a nice sound nonetheless. From beside him, he heard the subtle metallic shifting of beskar, and another set of armor, as the wagon continued to move. He was up before everyone else it seemed, other than the two farmers who were having a conversation.
He contemplated going back to sleep, when the frogs returned. They croaked and whistled brightly, somewhere nearby! He yawned, stood up quickly, spun around, and placed his hands on the edge of the wagon. He tried to see up ahead, but all the cargo was in his way. As they got closer, it sort of looked like a marsh, but not quite.
When the wagon finally stopped, he could see more. Much more. It was large open spaces and huts, and the ponds here were almost symmetrical. There were people everywhere here. And a lot of them began approaching the wagon.
The smaller ones were the first to get there, and they stopped directly in front of the Child. They smiled brightly at him and giggled warmly. There was fascination in their eyes, and the Child got the sense that they'd never seen a creature like him before. They waved at him, though they were right in front of him, and the Child waved back with both hands. He understood fascination, and he was equally happy to be meeting them.
From beside him, the man and Cara spoke up, having woken up only a few moments ago, but the Child didn't look at them, far too transfixed. Some of the men and women of this village eventually shooed the smaller ones away, much to his sheer disappointment.
More and more villagers gathered around the wagon, taking cargo and supplies. They all regarded their new visitors with welcoming energies, not derisive or cautious one little bit.
Cara disappeared, presumably to find a place to store her belongings. The man stood some ways away from the wagon, rifle propped against his shoulder, and staring out over the farms. The Child noted that he seemed a little guarded, especially as some of the villagers nearly bumped into him, but there was no danger here that he could see.
The man eventually came back to the Child, to lift him up and over the edge of the wagon.
"I wouldn't put him down here," a woman approached, causing the man to stop in his tracks, yet again guarded. "The ground is boggy," she explained calmly. "And his feet might sink. The paths in the village are sturdier."
"Oh," the man responded, and tucked the Child against his side. "Thanks."
She smile a little, introduced herself as Omera, and nodded for them to follow. He slung the rifle over his back. Reaching into the wagon, he grabbed the Child's blanket, stuffed it into a cargo box, and took the box with him.
From this vantage point, the Child could see a lot more of the village, especially as they walked. The smaller ones were nowhere to be seen. He shouldn't feel disappointed, but he was. At least he could distract himself by observing everything around him. The air around the ponds was refreshingly humid. The village itself was dryer and smelled of chimney smoke coming from the homes. These were all good things. He wondered why they were here in the first place, but couldn't complain one little bit, even as he was set down on sturdier ground.
Omera led them to one of the barns and they went inside. The Child wandered around. There wasn't much to see, other than whicker baskets and other such storage containers. But it felt cozy, and there was an underlying smell of food. He went between some baskets, hoping to find some breakfast. All the while, a conversation happened at the entrance of the barn, but he didn't pay any attention to it.
Stacked high above him were some fresh vegetables. Well, either way, he was hungry and it was better than nothing, but he wasn't tall enough to reach. He stared at the food, raised one of his hands, and concentrated as best as he could. Their green leaves rustled, as if a breeze had blown through.
A familiar set of boots came closer to him, searching for something, and the Child stopped, already feeling a bit of fatigue.
The man pushed his way towards the back of the barn where the Child was. "What're you getting into," he asked.
The Child pointed upwards.
"I'm hungry, too," he said. "But we can't eat that. It's not ours. Come on, I brought the jerky."
The Child perked up at that, and quickly followed him. Jerky was almost too chewy for him, but it was much better and tastier than vegetables. He was hungry enough that he didn't realized that the man had given him his share.
Omera lent them a crib, and she smiled at the Child as she placed it beside him. It was quite old, but not rickety. It had been repaired many times over the years, and they saw enough value in it to keep mending it. Though the Child didn't like being contained, he thought it was cozy and took a quick nap. He was still a little tired from when he had tried to get those vegetables. When he woke up, he found that the blue blanket was beneath his body, its softness comforting against his ears.
He stood up in the crib and stared out the entrance of the barn. He gripped one of the wooden bars and stood on his tiptoes in an effort to see better. The man was beside him, cleaning and doing routine maintenance on his weapons. His head was bent downwards in order to focus on his work, not paying any mind to the goings on of the villagers. The man was easy to read, or at least the Child thought so. For whatever reason, being in this place both calmed and unnerved him, and the Child couldn't understand why.
Omera returned, this time with a meal, and set it down on the windowsill.
One of the smaller ones was with her! She not only had food as well, but also wanted to interact with him. She sat down in front of his crib and watched him eat, and she asked the man a question. The man agreed.
Much to his delight, he lifted the Child out of the crib and onto the floor.
The smaller one started trotting away, beckoning for him to follow. He babbled excitedly, and ran as best as he could. Thankfully, she stopped every few steps to ensure he was still keeping up. They didn't have far to go. Close to the barn, in an open space, were the other smaller ones, waiting for them to arrive. Their smiles brightened.
They all took turns chasing each other, giggling and shouting. They also took turns looking down at the Child, making sure he was there, and having fun with them. They were similar to the ones from the marketplace, only they didn't point at him or run around without him. Now that he thought about it… It made him realize that they were just like him.
Well, not precisely like him. They didn't look anything like he did, but they were small like him, and they ran around and smiled and…played. That was a word he remembered! Had he ever played before? Surely he must have if he could at least remember how to define it.
Din didn't know whether he liked this place or not. It was as peaceful as he needed it to be, and he could deal with the raiders who sought to terrorize this village, but it was also realistic. There were plenty of places in the galaxy that were like this, free from war, famine, and destruction. For Mandalorians struggling to survive, this was just a concept. It was always a culture shocking landing in places like this.
Hoping nobody would see him, he removed his helmet to eat the meal that Omera had brought him. The children of the village were playing, with his kid being at the center of it. They included him in their games as much as possible. Though they acknowledged how young he was, they still didn't want him to feel left out. The Child babbled loudly, ears going from relaxed to perk, but never down. He was enjoying himself.
Din took another bite of food, still feeling apprehensive. At least someone was taking this in stride. This actually helped him, though. He didn't have to watch the Child so closely while he got the raider situation resolved.
Boot-steps from outside the barn approached and he swiftly put his helmet back on. He had eaten enough and would save the rest for later. Cara stopped in the entryway, ready to scout the woodlands surrounding the village.
Before leaving completely, he flagged down Omera and asked her if she would keep an eye on the Child. She accepted, no questions asked. Din was almost taken aback. These people were kind and welcoming, and had no problem accepting a bounty hunter and a strange-looking kid into their village.
These people were strange to him. But he knew they were genuine, and he didn't want to appear ungrateful. He also didn't want to jinx the hospitality. Without another word, he left to join Cara.
Raiders were no problem. An AT-ST sure as hell was, though. It didn't help when more and raiders suddenly swarmed the village. It took timing, grunt work, and preparation, but these villagers were stubborn and wanted to defend their home. Din didn't know if that was the reason why he was motivated to help, but he helped all the same.
The battle comprised of one spontaneous plan after the other, which was what Din was used to anyway. Thanks to Cara's quick thinking, they took out the AT-ST, causing the raiders to scatter like rats. They ran, sparing the village, leaving it in peace.
The villagers celebrated over the next few days, playing music, drinking as much spotchka as they could stand, and taking a break from farming for this short time. Din and Cara were welcomed to partake, and also welcomed to stay as long as they needed. Cara needed that invitation, and would stay until she felt the need to move on.
Din's situation was different, though. He still intended to stay for a few weeks, but knew that he and the Child would have to move on eventually.
For the first week or so, the Child mostly followed Din around the village, or through the surrounding woods. Though the danger was over, he had been originally hired to protect this village, so he thought he should continue doing so. Omera saw this and put a stop to it. Or at least she convinced him not to go scouting. He did however go hunting – for food, that is – with some of the farmers at some point.
The Child now stayed in the village completely, and could mainly be found playing with the other children. He was fascinated by them, Din knew this, and he never stopped him.
At some point, Din came back from another hunting trip and went looking for the Child just to check in on him.
An ecstatic babbling was heard, and he looked in the direction of the Child's voice. The other kids were trying to teach him how to jump, which he wasn't exactly able to do. That didn't seem to sour the Child's mood though, and he giggled louder, attempting to start a game of chase instead. The other kids immediately caught on, much to the Child's delight.
Din didn't want to interrupt whatsoever. If the Child saw him returning, he might come over to greet. So, hewalked away, back to the barn. Something else started to nag at him in that moment.
It was the realization that the Child was happy here. And he didn't want to take that away from him.
It was their last day on Sorgan, and Din watched the Child from a distance. He hid behind some reeds as if he were a mighty hunter, and pounced on an unsuspecting frog. From beneath his helmet, the corners of Din's mouth twitched into something that almost resembled a smile, but it was a weak one.
The children suddenly started laughing and covering their eyes in disgust as the Child attempted to swallow the frog whole.
Omera had stopped by for a visit, and asked with a slight chuckle, "Is that normal?"
"For him," Din asked. "I suppose it is."
At some point, Omera commented that he looked very happy here. In a strained voice, Din agreed. Hell, it was the only thing plaguing his mind these last couple weeks. It was a decision he had to make, and one that he wouldn't make lightly.
Before walking away, Omera smiled at Din. "Fits right in."
Din's frown deepened, and he was happy that no one could ever see a shift in emotion from him.
Cara was a little more adept at being social than he was, but not by much, and was not afraid to speak her mind when wondering about something. "So what happens if you take that thing off," she asked, referring to his helmet. "They come after you and kill you?"
He was both grateful and annoyed to be distracted by his own worries. "No," he said. "You just can't ever put it back on again."
There was a pause. "That's it?"
Din turned to see her staring confusedly at him. "So you can slip off the helmet? And settle down with that beautiful young widow and…raise your kid, sitting here sipping spotchka?"
He only stared at her in response.
Cara pulled a face of minor disbelief, but didn't press the matter.
"You know," he told Cara, trying and failing to change the subject. "We raised some hell here a few weeks back. It's too much action for a backwater town like this. Word travels fast. We might wanna cycle the charts and move on."
Cara nodded in the direction of the children. "Wouldn't wanna be the one who's gotta tell him."
The other kids were waving some krill in front of the Child's face. The blue scales shined brightly, and he walked around to each one to get a better look.
Din took a resigned breath. "I'm leaving him here."
Cara was silent, but he knew she was listening.
"Traveling with me, that's no life for a kid," he continued. "I did my job, he's safe. Better chance at a life." Perhaps if he said these words aloud, then it would be enough to convince himself that this was the best decision. The decision that made sense.
"It's gonna break his little heart," Cara muttered sympathetically.
Din didn't agree nor disagree. "He'll get over it," he said. "…We all do." The Child had only been traveling with him for around two weeks now. It was doubtful he had begun forming any type of attachment.
He had work to do now, if he wanted to get back to the Razor Crest by nightfall. He packed his belongings into the cargo boxes, which passing villagers noticed but didn't question. They knew he was a Mandalorian, that was why they had originally hired him. And they knew it was in his nature to move on. Omera hadn't noticed this yet, though, as she was out by the ponds for more krill harvesting.
Din found himself dragging his feet, and before he knew it, it was late afternoon. Dank farrik, the sooner he left, the sooner…the sooner he was gone. It was a simplistic thought, a goal, and yet his throat tightened.
He shook his head. He needed to move on to the next task. Which was checking in with Omera. She wasn't exactly the leader of this village, not like there seemed to be one anyway, but she was certainly respected as such. He could easily slip away without anyone noticing or missing him, but this was her village.
As he walked between the ponds, he also knew that he needed to see the Child before leaving. That would be the final thing to do. He needed to explain to him what was going on, no matter how much or how little he understood. The Child deserved that much.
"Excuse me," he asked when he finally found Omera. "Can I have a word?"
"Of course," she smiled a little.
He wasn't used to goodbyes. He breezed from planet to planet, collecting bounties, running into trouble, causing a great deal of it himself, and repeating all of that all over again. Most were all too happy for him to be gone. Goodbyes were a terrible thing, because they actually held weight.
Now that he had Omera's undivided attention, he didn't want to sully it, but he also wanted to be sincere. How does one be social like that?
"It's very…nice here." Not too terrible of a start.
She nodded. "Yes."
Getting straight to the point, to what held priority, he kept his voice professional. "I think it's clear he's…he's happy here."
"What about you," she asked.
Completely not expecting this question, he asked, "…Me?"
"Are you happy here?" When he didn't respond to that, she continued. "We want you to stay." Ah, so she had somehow noticed. "The community's grateful." She glanced at his armor. "You can pack all this away in case there's ever trouble. You and your boy could have a good life. He could be a child for a while." She spoke with pauses in between sentences, waiting for any type of reaction from him.
This offer was unheard of for so many reasons. And although she tried to understand, she still didn't. Not completely. However, it was the fact that she was putting in the effort to understand. This was…
"Wouldn't that be nice," she concluded hopefully.
His voice held uncertainty. "It would."
She reached up, slowly and respectfully, to remove his helmet. The one thing that gave him a place in this entire galaxy. The thing that proudly made him a Mandalorian.
Gently, he stopped her hands. She meant no harm by any of this, and he vaguely understood that this was supposed to be yet another welcoming gesture, but he couldn't. His way of life meant far too much to him, no matter how conflicted he was.
He shook his head slightly. "I don't…belong here."
He glanced up. At the edge of the village, the Child was with the other kids. They sat beneath the shade of a krill net, taking a break from playing just to talk to each other. He would do just fine here, without him. That was all he could hope for. And he knew he was in good hands.
He looked at Omera. "But he does."
After a moment, with sadness in her eyes, she said, "I understand. I will look after him as one of my own."
He was about to say thank you, a confirmation that the Child was no longer under his protection. He knew this would happen at some point today, but he realized he had never been fully prepared on how to respond.
From somewhere in the trees, the sound of a blaster echoed, causing everyone to instantly stop what they were doing.
As it turned out, it was Cara, who had gunned down a bounty hunter.
A tracking fob was laying on the ground, and its target was painfully obvious.
He and Cara held a quick and tense conversation. He destroyed the fob. He knew well enough that there was something unique about the Child, of which would draw the interest of those with ill intent, but this was downright despicable. According to Cara, this hunter's rifle had been pointed in the direction of the kids.
Din nearly growled. The guild on Nevarro normally didn't go to such efforts, but money was money, no matter how bloody it was. The Empire was the original poster for this bounty. They didn't exactly like to lose, or let things go.
He inhaled sharply. If he had left any sooner, the Child would be dead right now. And he didn't want to think about that for a single second.
Still standing in the woods, staring at the dead body of the bounty hunter, Cara spoke up.
"So what's next for you," she asked. "Change of plans, obviously?"
He didn't look at her. "I can't protect him if I'm not here. And the village would be in that crossfire. The plan is the same. I'm leaving tonight."
"With the kid." It wasn't a question.
He nodded once.
She tried to get a look at his visor. "Hey. I've seen the way you fight. I don't know of anyone more qualified." She took a breath, and looked in the direction of the village. "If you ask me, it'll be the best thing for him."
That's when he looked at her, and she was grinning slightly at him.
The Child sat in the back of the wagon as it was loaded up. He knew in his gut that they would leave eventually, and that sudden shot from a distant blaster confirmed it. He just didn't know when eventually was supposed to be. Almost all of the villagers, including the smaller ones, went to see them off.
On the one hand, the Child was happy. The Razor Crest awaited them, and they would be amongst the stars again. He missed the beeps and lights of the cockpit, and the metallic creaking of the hull. He even missed sitting in that old crate. It was a thrilling place that seemed to exude adventure.
This village didn't provide any of that. However, as one of the smaller ones ran over to hug him, he knew he would also miss this place and these people. They were kind to him and the man, and he would not soon forget that. Perhaps they would come back someday.
It was dark by the time they made it back to the Razor Crest. Din stared at the Child, who never looked away from the village until the last possible minute. He felt bad that they might never see this planet again, but this was for the best. And he hoped that the Child wouldn't be too upset about it.
He wished there was a way he could check in with Omera and her people whenever he felt the need. But this planet wasn't as technologically advanced. Cara had some of that tech, but she wanted to fly under the radar as much as possible.
As soon as the wagon stopped, the Child slid off the back of it. Din instantly jumped out, making sure that the Child had landed safely to the ground. But he should've known better. Unexpectedly, and with a happy little babble, he ran to the Razor Crest as quick as his little legs could carry him. Raising a brow, Din tapped a button on his gauntlet to open one of the entrances and allow him inside.
He didn't think the Child had forgotten about the village and his friends in such a short amount of time. But rather, he seemed genuinely happy to be back at the ship. That was…good. So much so, that a weight seemed to lift from Din's shoulders. If the Child was happy to be back, then…Well, it was a good thing.
He exhaled, shook his head, and started taking the cargo inside. Once it was all put away, he closed the entrance of the ship, and looked down at the Child. He yet again somehow managed to get ahold of the silver ball and was gnawing away. Din picked him up and carried him up into the cockpit.
After placing him in the crate, he sat down on the pilot's seat. Bounty hunters were on their tail, and the Empire presumably, and they needed to figure out their next destination.
There was an ecstatic squeal that almost startled Din, and he looked back at the Child, who was leaning over the edge of the crate in anticipation.
"Yeah," Din said. "I'm glad to be back here, too."
The Child couldn't stay with him forever. He needed a proper home. However, the Child certainly didn't seem to mind traveling as much as they did.
So for now, his home was the Razor Crest.