Disclaimer: I made the Bo-Din fanart but otherwise, I own nothing here.
Two more Stars
AN: I feel the need to mention, although this is a standalone story from my Take my Hand divergent collection, I do intend to take a number of my headcanons from that collection and re-purpose them into this story. I'm sorry if this seems repetitive at some points, but I NEED some of those headcanons. XD
Urgency
Two weeks later. (A month from departing Mandalore)
The weather on Adelphi seemed to always be sunny and pleasant as Din landed the N-1 on the Republic base's dusty pad. If only his own mood reflected as much.
Tucked into the crook of one arm, Grogu whimpered weakly as Din readjusted him before debarking.
"Hang in there, kid," he said softly and strode towards the lounge bar. He tried to hide his slight limp, but his most recent imperial bounty had left a deep blaster burn on his left shin and he had yet to treat it properly; Grogu's new condition took priority, however.
Glancing down at his adopted son, Din couldn't help but sigh in dismay. Grogu hummed with what seemed like constant misery, his big ears were drooping, his normally curious brown eyes were dull and downcast. But what was most worrisome was the kid's highly irregular loss of appetite.
He had to get him to a medic of some kind, or someone that could communicate with him properly, Ahsoka or Luke maybe.
Rushing into the lounge, he quickly located Teva at the bar and wasted no time in slapping the tracking fobs down in front of him. "I'm in a hurry, the kid is sick."
Teva's brows furrowed in response and he regarded Grogu with genuine concern. "I see. Anything I can do to help?" He reached into his jacket and produced a hefty stack of credits in exchange for the fobs.
"Not unless you know the current or most recent locations for Ahsoka or Luke." Din collected his pay and waited impatiently as the other man thought carefully for a moment.
Sighing with a frown, Teva shook his head. "Skywalker has been off our radar for awhile now. Not sure what he's been up to." He tipped his head with a hint of promise. "As for Ahsoka, I do have a recent location report, but no telling if she's still there."
"I'll take whatever you can give me," Din replied and prepped his vambrace comm for the coordinates. "I'm guessing she's changed comm frequency?"
"Location is Lothal," Teva supplied and nodded as he rattled off the new frequency code. "Word is, she's visiting old friends. You might catch her if you hurry."
"Thanks." Din nodded back and strode for the door without hesitation.
Teva blinked after him. "You don't want your next target?"
"The kid takes priority," Din replied over his shoulder. "I'll be in touch."
"Good luck!" Teva called. "Hope the kid gets better."
Din waved his free hand in farewell as the door closed behind him. Grogu whined and squirmed with discomfort in his hold. "You'll be ok. Ahsoka will know how to help."
Din wasn't positive, but it seemed like the child perked up a bit in response.
In the Great Forge camp, the sounds of hammers striking and welders sizzling at durasteel was a constant background buzz during daylight hours.
Listening absently to the incoherent chatter outside, Bo stood inside her tent quarters, equipping her gear for the morning. Her hand lingered on her final piece of armor, the silver pauldron that never failed to remind her of the man that had changed her life forever.
She took a moment to wonder how he and the kid were doing, though with Din's last correspondence being two weeks prior, there was really no way to know for sure. She thought about reaching out herself, just to check on him, but always managed to talk herself out of it, convincing herself that no news was good news.
She frowned with concern, thinking that surely, he would call for help if he needed it. She had to fight the urge to feel annoyed though; the least he could do was drop a recording that he was alright.
Sighing in frustration, she tucked her helmet under one arm and swept out of her tent, as if attempting to get away from her endlessly circling thoughts.
She quickly made to distract herself by pondering over her long list of duties for the day... Checking in with the Armorer on the project she had left with her the other day. Then there was fleet patrols to organize. Not to mention the construction of the communications satellite needed her attention at some point.
There was also combat training that she had been skipping out on lately. Axe and Koska were going to hassle her terribly if she didn't at least show up for an afternoon spar soon.
She watched with mild suspicion as an unfamiliar shuttle passed overhead and flew towards the makeshift landing site at the rear of the camp; odd... She'd need to check in on that later.
Members of all three tribes passed by, each offering varying levels of reverence. Her own Nite Owls offered curt, respectful nods. Those of Din's tribe simply dipped their heads with a quick tap of their fist to their chest.
Finally, the Survivors, those that had somehow remained on Mandalore even through the bombings, made a whole production out of pausing and thumping a fist to their chest with a slight bow.
Bo wished they would just adopt the greeting from one of the other two tribes, but they meant well and she couldn't bring herself to correct them. She returned each greeting with a polite smile and a nod as she weaved her way through the tents.
Although the open chasm round about the Great Forge had been turned into a temporary camp, more permanent structures were under constant construction nearby. Using any existing, solid pillars or stone walls was proving effective, and it was everyone's hope that they would have proper living quarters within the next week.
Living in tents for a month hadn't been ideal, though they had enough ships with freshers to keep everyone... civil.
In all honesty, Bo would have happily used her ship as her quarters, but she felt it was important to live and work right along with her people, rather than closing herself off from them like she had in the past.
The hammering of construction gave way to the hammering of Beskar as she neared the Forge's steps. The Armorer worked diligently at her craft, though she was alone at one of the three stations, her two new smith apprentices yet to arrive for training.
Bo approached, careful and quiet so as not to distract, but even with her back turned, the Armorer had a way of knowing who approached. "I have bad news," she said, pausing in her work to give Bo a sidelong look. "I cannot repair it. Though I was able to craft certain components."
Fending off a disappointed frown, Bo drew beside the other woman to marvel at the many small, silver components all lined up on the workbench. "They look like they could fit together... What's the problem?"
The Armorer's black visor turned to her, as if assessing her knowledge (or lack thereof) in an instant. "Only a Force wielder, Jedi or otherwise, can construct a lightsaber. I can only forge certain components. Those that I can't, will need to be acquired elsewhere. As for a willing Jedi, perhaps little Grogu can help you the next time they visit?"
"Who knows when that will happen," Bo muttered out impulsively, not realizing how sulky she sounded until the words hung in the air, like a murky, guilty cloud.
If it was even possible, the Armorer's stare seemed to bore into her even more. It was all Bo could do to not shift or fidget like a child under a parent's suspicious scrutiny.
In the end, the Beskar smith either decided not to comment or she was waiting for a more opportune moment to address the matter. "A word of caution," she said, seeming to continue her explanation. "Even if you are able to rebuild it, because of the extent of the damage, the Darksaber will never be the same as it once was."
"I understand."
"Do you?" the Armorer pressed. "The blade itself will be reborn, but so too, the significance it carries."
"I've left off relying on a weapon to lead our people," Bo replied, raising her head to feign confidence. "I will lead for however long they choose to follow."
"So you say," the smith replied with a dubious lilt as she turned back to her work. "And yet, I get the sense your heart wanders elsewhere at times."
Bo's gaze narrowed and snapped to that gold helmet. She preferred it if people didn't sneak around a matter, but she wasn't about to admit to something until she knew she was well and truly caught.
She only wished she had her helmet on for a game of verbal Sabacc such as this; putting it on now would be like admitting defeat before the cards were even dealt. She raised her chin and tipped her head, a ploy at being defiant yet perplexed. "I don't know what you mean."
"If that's true," the Armorer scoffed softly, not looking at her. "Then you alone are unaware of it." Her tone took on a strange lilt, like she was explaining something very complicated to a small child.
Bo opened her mouth to counter but was distracted by the sound of a jetpack.
"Bo-Katan," a male voice called from the bottom of the steps. Bo turned to see Axe, her second in command, remove his helmet and approach with a hurried stride. "A shuttle just arrived. This droid was the only passenger but it has an urgent message."
Bo looked to the small droid that she hadn't even noticed until Axe knelt down and extended his arm, allowing it to crawl from his shoulder and onto the floor with a few beeps.
Bo was not especially familiar with every droid on the market, but this one appeared to be of the explorer class. With a white and green color scheme, it had a square, flat head with two round photoreceptors, a tiny neck to a box-shaped body and two thin legs.
For the most part, she understood binary, though it seemed like every type of droid had its own little variation, like an accent. She nodded when it paced in place and chirped up at her inquisitively, probably asking for permission before playing the recording. "Let's hear it."
With another affirmative chirp, the droid's left photoreceptor clicked and spun before a blue holoimage appeared above its head. Bo instantly recognized the woman as the Duchess of Plazir-15.
"No time for pleasantries. This message is for Bo-Katan Kryze of Mandalore. My planet has been attacked by pirates and without proper mercenary protection we are helpless to fight back. I implore you to send immediate aid by any means necessary, with ample reward as incentive, of course... Also, please take care of Tee-ay for me, he's a good little droid."
There was a palpable silence after the image faded, with only the sound of Tee-ay's gears whirring as he shifted on his tiny feet and glanced around, as if anxious.
Bo thought carefully for a long moment. Obviously, the droid had been able to sneak away unnoticed, whereas a lifeform would have been detected by the pirate's scanners and shot to pieces.
In any rate, the matter seemed dire, and Bo did feel some sort of odd camaraderie with the Duchess and her planet. Still, there was much risk involved and they would need to send a scouting party to survey the situation first.
She looked to Axe for his opinion and he blinked back with the slightest smirk; having known him since childhood, she knew that look well. "You want to help them too."
"Well," he drawled with such a boyish grin, that, had they not been related, Bo would have found attractive. "They do pay well."
Bo had almost forgotten the Armorer stood behind her until she spoke up. "We are in need of funds, considering the many projects you have planned."
Bo turned and glanced between her two councilors, nodding in agreement. "I will take a scouting party then." She sent Axe a sober look. "You and Koska will have to stay behind and prepare the fleet for my call."
"I will stay and keep the peace with those that remain," the Armorer put in carefully. "The tribes will be anxious when you leave."
Bo nodded again, a surge of excitement pumping through her veins at the prospect of a mission; rebuilding Mandalore was a priority, yes, but she would be lying if she said the politics of it all wasn't driving her mad.
She turned to leave but paused abruptly when she felt tiny metal claws latch onto her leg. She looked down to see Tee-ay peering back up at her with such a pitiful look that she found it hard to believe it didn't posses a soul.
"Well, since that's settled, I'll go rally the troops," Axe said and took off with a burst of his jetpack.
Bo didn't really mind having the little droid tag along, in fact, most droids proved useful more often than they didn't. She just wasn't sure she could keep him safe if they were headed into a war zone.
It beeped at her pleadingly. Something about the way it chirped made her think of Grogu and there was suddenly nothing she could say to deny him. "Ok, but only until we're on the ship." She reached down and let him crawl up her arm to her shoulder, where he seemed to perch with a happy chortle.
"Good hunting," the Armorer said, drawing Bo's attention for a brief moment. If she didn't know better, it seemed like the Beskar smith was amused by something...
Mentally shaking her head, Bo smiled complacently before donning her helmet and taking off with her own jetpack. "Pirates are always good hunting."