Suggested Listening:
Catwoman - Michael Giacchino (from The Batman) | …a one woman mutiny
Main Title: Nemo Egg - Thomas Newman (from Finding Nemo) | …Grogu
To the Spaceport - James Newton Howard (from Treasure Planet) | …with the windows down
The Ax Games - Michael Giacchino (from Thor: Love and Thunder) | …is that a ship?
Il Bandito Monco - Ennio Morricone (from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly) | …i've been tracking you
Capture the Flag - Ludwig Goransson (from The Mandalorian) | …another ship
The Armor - Ludwig Goransson (from The Mandalorian) | …can yours do that?
"Have you been to this planet before?" I asked Din in a gentle voice as we glided through the hyperspace lane. Grogu was fast asleep in his seat, and the atmosphere was cozy and quiet.
"Never," He replied, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the dash. "I didn't even know it existed."
"And if this 'seeing stone' works, and a Jedi comes for him…" I pondered my words, careful of plunging him back into that sad, vulnerable moment when he thought he was leaving Grogu with Ahsoka. "… if they take him to get his training… will you be alright?"
He let his feet drift gently to the floor and turned in his chair to face me.
"You don't need to worry about me," he said, pointedly.
"I'm not," I deferred, a little haughty. "I'm just making sure you're going to be emotionally stable enough to be the captain of this unit. I don't want to have to mutiny."
"A one woman mutiny," he said, and I could feel the one raised eyebrow burning through his T-visor. "I think I could take you."
"Yeah, maybe in a talking-really-low-and-serious contest," I deadpanned.
"That would be a very odd and specific kind of mutiny."
"Well, I'm an odd and specific kind of girl," I retorted. He considered me for a moment.
"Yes you are," he said slowly, with an amused pondering. My cheeks burned as we stared at each other — I couldn't shake the feeling he was looking me over.
Suddenly, the ship gave a lurch.
"Is that supposed to happen in hyperspace?" I asked, gripping the sides of my seat.
"No," said Din, his tone serious again. "It's not."
Another lurch, followed by a treacherous shudder. The dash flickered and all the lights went out for a second, before coming back on with a loud power-up.
"Dank Farrik, this ship!" He cursed, pressing some buttons frantically. "She's stalling. Can you come hold down these two?"
I unstrapped and rushed to the dash.
"The blue one and the white one," he ordered, nodding to the far-left panel. I found the buttons and held them down, one with each pointer finger, while he played a jazz piece on the knobs and switches scattered across the dash. With an orchestral swoop, the engine noises stabilized and the dash returned to normalcy.
Din let out a breath of relief, and we both looked over at Grogu.
"Still asleep," I observed with a whisper, and we chuckled.
"I knew I was right," he said under his breath, a dry humor potent in his tone. "Bad luck. Ever since you crawled into my weapons store, this ship has been falling apart."
I perched on the edge of the dash and crossed my arms, biting back a teasing smile.
"Excuse me, but at what point do we chalk mechanical problems up to the owner, not the passenger? Because this is getting ridiculous."
"All I know," he said wryly. "Is that this ship flew like a comet in the old days, and now it's more like a Bogwing with scale-rot."
"Well maybe you're not taking very good care of it," I retorted, playfully. A chuckle rumbled through his vocoder.
"You think you came aboard and I suddenly stopped taking care of my ship?"
"Well, maybe you're distracted," I laughed, shrugging.
As soon as I said it, I felt a shift in the atmosphere.
"Distracted by what?" He challenged, staring me down. I opened my mouth to reply, but swiftly closed it again, my stomach suddenly full of butterflies. I knew what I meant, but actually saying it out loud felt impossible. Dangerous.
He stood slowly and moved toward me. My heartbeat quickened and I looked down, suddenly very interested in the metallic pattern on the floor. I heard him come close, and my breath hitched in my throat as I felt a gloved finger touch the base of my chin, lifting my gaze up slowly. He was towering over me, his helmet tilted down so that his dark, mysterious T-visor was only inches from my face. I was frozen, my breathing stopped, consumed by a sudden brazen ache, a need vibrating in my chest and my abdomen that was sending my mind into stasis.
"Distracted by what?" He repeated in a low, heady rumble.
I searched his T-visor, my eyes flicking from his gaze to where I knew his mouth was, barricaded behind all that beskar. As my breath grew ragged, his hand swept from my chin to cup my cheek before sliding his fingers back into my hair and around to the back of my neck. I shifted back further so that I was sitting on the dash, my knees opening to allow him to press his body against mine. I must have bumped a button or lever because there was a sudden consistent beeping filling the cockpit. I ignored it, placing one hand behind me and the other on his chest plate — it was cold and smooth, and I ran my hand up and over his shoulder, cautiously landing on the side of his helmet. Din's other hand swept up to meet it, interlacing his fingers with mine. The beeping got louder, and louder still—
With a desperate gasp for air, I awoke, coughing and sputtering, my heart racing. I looked around, struggling to catch my breath, and saw Din and Grogu looking over their shoulders at me, curiously. We were in hyperspace, and the now tinny, feeble-sounding beeping was coming from the dash.
"Sorry," Din said, thwacking a dashplate with his fist. The beeping ceased. "This radar's on its last legs, it needs a rewire."
I stared at him and swallowed, certain he could read everything that had been playing in my mind just moments before.
"Did you have another nightmare?" He asked, concerned.
"Yes," I answered immediately. "Yep. Same as usual."
His gaze lingered on me for a beat, as though he was assessing whether or not I was okay. Upon deciding I was, he turned back to the viewport. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, casting a quick glance over at Grogu. He giggled, his ears waggling.
Don't look at me like that, kid, I thought, praying for more reasons than one that his Force sensitivity didn't give him the power to analyze dreams.
I directed my view firmly out at the swirling patterns of the hyperspace lane, willing my brain to snap into the present and forget the flickering but still-playing film of the dream — the feeling of wanting; the urgent, desperate relief of him touching me; the swirling concoction of desire and care and feelings that I didn't dare ascribe names to…
… Shit.
We flew in silence. The air was tense, not only because I was having a full melodrama in my subconscious, but because as we got closer and closer to Tython, I knew Din was steeling himself more and more for impending grief — the very real possibility that the kid — Grogu — might have to leave us was looming.
When we shuddered out of hyperspeed and the stars found their stoic places in the vast black tapestry ahead of us, Din's soft, lilting voice snapped me out of my reverie.
"Grogu?"
The kid cooed in immediate recognition. He was clutching the round metal lever-head like it was the most precious thing in the world. Din chuckled, warmly.
"… Grogu…" he called again, and once more, the child's big dark eyes snapped to attention. Din looked to me and snickered again. I smiled.
"You try," he whispered to me. I looked at the kid and paused.
"Grogu!"
"Doh?" Babbled Grogu, swiveling his head to me. I laughed, softly.
"That's your name," I murmured in a sing-song voice, unable to contain my affection.
Din looked back at the kid.
"Grogu, give me the ball."
He outstretched his hand, but Grogu clutched the silver orb closer to his chest.
"Grogu," he continued, sounding more firm and fatherly. "Give me the ball, come on."
Reluctantly, Grogu conceded. Din took the ball in his hand and held it up between his finger and thumb.
"Okay, here we go."
Grogu tilted his head, curiously.
"You can have it," continued Din. "Just like before."
The kid hesitated, casting a questioning look over at me.
"Hey, it's okay," encouraged Din. "You can have it. Come on."
Grogu squinted his eyes, held out his arms, and with a snap, the ball whizzed into his hands.
"Dank Farrik!" Din exclaimed, slapping his knee in frustration. It was the most agitated I'd seen him, and it made me jump. Grogu looked startled and confused, dropping the ball in his lap. "Hey, no," soothed Din, immediately contrite. "I'm not mad at you, you did good."
I leaned forward a little on my knees, worry flickering in my eyes. Din looked over at me and let out a deep, sad sigh. He returned his gaze to Grogu.
"It's just… when the nice lady said you had training, I just…" he trailed off, his voice vulnerable. Unable to put the rest into words, he sighed again and picked up the ball, placing it lovingly in Grogu's hands. "You're very special, kid."
A lump appeared in my throat. I cleared it when Din looked over at me.
"We're gonna find the place where you belong," he continued, looking back at Grogu. "And they're gonna take good care of you. Right?"
He was tagging me in, his voice telling me he was trying to be positive.
"Absolutely," I agreed, leaving my seat and kneeling down next to the kid, fixing his collar. "And no matter what, you don't need to be scared, okay? Because we're here with you."
I meant that to comfort Grogu, but I was also hopeful it would help Din feel less alone and afraid, too.
Grogu babbled and grinned, waving the metallic sphere at me proudly.
"That's yours, huh?" I smiled, poking the ball in his hand. "That's not the ship's, that's clearly meant for Grogu."
He made another little noise of recognition and I beamed, looking round at Din. Another sad, soft laugh vibrated through his vocoder. Something beeped briefly on the dash behind him and he spun around to face the viewport.
"This is Tython," Din said, peering out at the approaching planet. "That's where we're gonna try and find you a Jedi."
Grogu grunted, sounding a little unimpressed.
"But you're gonna have to agree to go with them if they want you to," instructed Din firmly. "Understand?"
He made a little raspberry noise.
"Hey," I scolded playfully, poking his belly.
"Don't you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff?" Asked Din.
Grogu grunted again.
"I agreed to take you back to your own kind," said Din sternly. "So that's what I need to do. You understand, right?"
The kid didn't respond. Instead he clutched the ball tightly and gazed out through the viewport. I stood and started back to my seat, but I stopped at the left side of Din's chair. Wordlessly, I placed a cautious hand on his shoulder. His armor was cold — like it had been in the dream — and I didn't know at first if he had even felt it, but after a moment he turned his head, ever so slightly. Without looking at me, he nodded in thanks, and I heard an almost imperceptible exhale, like a held breath being released. I gave his armor one quick, friendly pat and retreated back to my seat, spiraling with all the new information my brain was giving me.
Grogu might be leaving.
Din's heart will break.
Your heart will break.
You're having wildly inappropriate dreams about your boss.
You're developing feelings for a man you've never even seen.
You're awkward and weird and can't show affection like a normal person.
I shook my head aggressively, eschewing the messy tangle of thoughts, directing my focus instead on the rocky, verdant, beautiful planet appearing beneath us.
We swooped lower and lower into Tython's atmosphere, breaking through the sparse clouds and zooming over a sprawling carpet of lush mountains and rock formations. Perched atop a middling peak was a circle of sacred-looking stones.
"Looks like that's the magic rock I'm supposed to take you to down there," muttered Din, and I stifled an amused smile.
He brought the ship low, swinging around the hill in search of a place to land, but it was too treacherous-looking.
"I think we're gonna have to land in the valley and walk up," I observed. He rumbled a knowing laugh.
"Hey kid," he said to Grogu. "Looks like we're gonna have to take the last stretch with the windows down."
I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
We landed on a plateau a ways down the hill from the circle of stones and disembarked. I wrapped the carrier around my back and Din placed Grogu gingerly in the pouch. I heard the little coo in my ear over my shoulder and lifted a hand to gently touch the kid's soft, fuzzy cheek.
"Okay," said Din matter-of-factly. "Put your arms around my neck."
My stomach dropped.
"Wh… what?"
"Come here, put your arms around my neck."
… Am I still dreaming? Because this isn't funny.
I tentatively walked over to him and cleared my throat, nervously.
"Just trust me," he assured, and there was a twinkle of something mischievous in his tone. Gingerly, I raised my arms and wrapped them slowly around his neck. Our faces, though separated insurmountably by his helmet, were inches apart and I looked up at him, waiting to see what would happen next.
"Good," he said. "Now hold on."
"What?"
My question turned into a terrified shriek, and before I had a chance to inquire further he had clamped his arms around my waist and we had shot up into the air at a rumbling speed.
That jetpack, I thought, the obvious dawning on me. I've seen it every day for weeks and it never occurred to me that the thing actually WORKED.
We careened through the air up the hill and I drew frightened and invigorated gasps of air, grabbing at his bunched up cloak behind his neck and muttering to myself.
"Okay, don't look down, don't look down, don't look down!"
I heard a roll of low laughter through the vocoder next to my ear, but he tightened his grip around my waist to give me extra security. Behind me, Grogu giggled with gleeful abandon, clearly loving every second of the flight.
When we reached the peak of the hill, Din landed us down gently. I let out an audible exhale of relief, staggering a little. He caught me by my forearms and steadied me.
"Sorry," he chuckled. "You good?"
"Yeah," I panted. "I just… I think you really surprised the kid, you know?"
Grogu unhelpfully squealed in contented delight.
"Absolutely," agreed Din with a hint of sarcasm.
We looked over at the circle of stones. They were much more mammoth than I had assumed from the birds-eye view — they stretched up to the sky like reaching hands, protectively encircling a perfectly round boulder in the center. We began walking toward it, cautiously.
"I guess this is it," said Din. "You're the expert, does this look Jedi to you?"
I smiled, looking around.
"It certainly looks… special."
We reached the boulder and looked at each other, unsure.
"I guess you sit right here," said Din, picking Grogu up out of his carrier on my back and placing him down on the center of the rock. He took a step back and we waited with bated breath for whatever was going to happen.
… nothing did.
"This is the seeing stone…" Mused Din. "Right?"
"I would be willing to bet on it," I answered, then turned to Grogu. "Do you see anything?"
"… Or are they supposed to see you?" Din looked up and around as though a bunch of Jedis might appear floating above us. I stifled a snicker.
"Grogu…" I said softly, and he looked at me attentively. "See if you can find a way to connect with the stone. Let your feelings guide you, okay?"
He smiled and cooed, but I couldn't tell if he had understood anything I'd said.
Din began circling the stone, examining its base. "Maybe there's some kind of… control or something?"
"Give it a minute," I protested. "This is spiritual stuff, it probably doesn't just happen right away."
"I'm just checking," replied Din. "No harm in being thorough."
Meanwhile, Grogu was sitting happily on the stone, not seeming to be communing with any Jedi spirits. Rather, he was reaching his little hand up, trying to catch a butterfly that was tumbling by lazily. Din sighed, frustrated.
"Oh, come on, kid. Ahsoka told me all I needed to do was get you here and you'd do the rest."
"Will you be patient, please?" I scolded, annoyed at his restlessness. "Don't pressure him, just give him a chance."
He looked like he was going to offer up a pithy retort, but he froze as a distant thrum filled the air. It sounded like…
"Is… is that a ship?" I asked, and we quickly searched the sky.
Sure enough, an odd-looking ship was approaching for landing. It was vertical in nature, almost like a cross, and it glided steadily, accompanied by a swarm-like humming sound. We exchanged a look and jogged to the edge of the peak just in time to watch the ship land, not too far from the Razor Crest.
"Time's up, kid," Din called urgently. "We gotta get out of here."
We turned back to the stone, but Grogu was no longer grabbing at butterflies. He was sitting serenely on the boulder, his eyes closed in deep concentration, his hands resting delicately on his lap, surrounded by a brilliant blue light. It was somehow simultaneously like fire and water together, swooping up around him and up toward the sky in a never-ending column, undulating and flowing in a way that would've been completely mesmerizing — were it not for the imminent danger approaching.
"We don't have time for this," said Din urgently, approaching him. "We've got to get—"
With a mighty pulse of sound, he was violently thrown backward onto the ground by the force field, landing with a pained grunt in the dirt.
"Mando, you okay?" I asked, rushing over to him and helping him up.
"Hey," he called to Grogu, panting. "Snap out of it, kid! We gotta get out of here!"
But Grogu didn't move. He didn't even indicate that he could hear him. He was somewhere else.
Din looked out toward where the ship had landed and pressed a button on the side of his helmet.
"Someone's coming," he said to me in a low voice. "This isn't gonna be good."
We both drew our blasters and looked back at Grogu.
"We'll buy you some time," Din said to the kid, his voice thick with worry. "Can you please hurry up?"
Grogu didn't respond in any way.
"Want me to stay with him?" I asked.
"That thing around him will keep him safer than either of us can," quipped Din. "Come on."
We began clambering down the hill, leaping and stumbling over crags and dry brush. We had made it all the way down into the valley, quite far from the peak of the hill, when all of a sudden jets of hot orange blaster rays rained down upon us. Din grabbed me and pulled me behind a massive boulder. We crouched down, trying to take up as little space as possible, when we heard the calm, cool voice of a man.
"I've been tracking you, Mandalorian."
"Is that Moff Gideon?" I hissed. He didn't answer. Instead, he slowly peeked out from behind the boulder. I grabbed at his arm, but he held up a reassuring hand.
Finally, he took a full step out into the open, revealing himself to our mysterious attacker with one hand in the air and the other holding his blaster out in defense. I peered over the boulder and swallowed when I saw an ominous looking older man standing there, cloaked mysteriously. He was armed with both a rifle and a staff on his back, and his abdomen was covered by an ammunition belt.
"Are you Jedi?" Asked Din. "Or are you after the child?"
Wordlessly, the man removed his hood to reveal a weathered, scarred face bearing an expression of stoic danger. He began walking toward us and I drew my blaster over the edge of the rock, training it on him. He froze for a moment, his eyes flicking to me for a quick assessment, then continued his approach.
"I'm here for the armor," he said.
"If you want my armor," replied Din with venom. "You'll have to peel it off my dead body."
The man came to a stop in front of us.
"I don't want your armor," he said, simply. "I want my armor. That you got from Cobb Vanth back on Tatooine. It belongs to me."
My mind raced back to that first fateful night in the desert, when I had first laid eyes on Din — entering the saloon with the Marshal, Cobb Vanth. He wasn't wearing his armor, I thought to myself. He didn't always, especially at the end of the day when he would come by for a solitary glass of nog, so I hadn't thought much of it at the time… did Din take his armor?
I looked over at him inquisitively.
"Are you Mandalorian?" Asked Din in a weary voice.
"I'm a simple man making his way through the galaxy," answered the man. "Like my father before me."
"Did you take the creed?" Din demanded.
"I give my allegiance to no one," grumbled the man.
"The beskar belongs to the Mandalorians," said Din. "It was looted from us during the Purge."
"The armor was my father's," replied the man. "Now it's mine."
"What's to stop me from dropping you right where you stand?" Din growled.
I shot him a wide-eyed look.
"Because," answered the man without hesitation. "I have a sharpshooter up on that ridge with a locked scope that will unload before my body hits the ground."
Din looked over at me, knowing full well that while he was shrouded in beskar, I was a little more al fresco. I raised my hands in submission, taking my finger off of the blaster trigger.
"Let me be clear," said Din in a dangerous voice. "Anything happens to my friend here and you'll both be dead within minutes."
"I didn't mean she was going to shoot her," said the man, a knowing smile playing around his lips. "My friend's locked onto that little companion of yours up on the henge."
My stomach dropped. Din's head snapped around to the hill where we had left Grogu.
"And if you'll remember," said a woman's voice, making me jump. "I don't miss."
We followed the sound to where a helmeted woman was laid on her stomach on a rock above us, training a long, thin sniper blaster toward the column of light on the hill.
"Fennec?" Exclaimed Din in surprise.
"Friend of yours?" I asked in disbelief.
"You have a keen ear, Mando," replied the woman with a smirk in her voice.
"You point that gun away from the kid," called Din, raising his blaster to threaten the man once more. "Or I'll drop you both where you stand."
I pointed my blaster up to the ridge where the woman lay.
"… technically she's lying down…" I muttered, glancing over at Din. He sighed and I could feel an eye-roll in his body language. He tilted his wrist and something powered up on his forearm — I didn't know what it was but I assumed it was something nobody there wanted to mess with.
"Let's all put our weapons down," called the man, lifting his hands cautiously. "Have a chat. There's no need for bloodshed."
"Tell her to drop the gun," commanded Din.
"After you put down the jetpack."
"… Same time."
The man considered this offer, then turned his head up to the ridge.
"Stand down!"
The woman stood, lowering her weapon. Din released the charge-up on his wrist, and I lowered my blaster — though my gaze still followed the woman with laser focus. The man unstrapped his rifle and placed it on the ground, and Din did the same with his jetpack. I came out from behind the rock and stood at Din's side, holstering my weapon. The woman appeared at the man's side, her helmet at her hip, her face beautiful and fierce-looking.
"You look like you've just seen a ghost," she said to Din.
"You were dead," answered Din.
What melodrama have I stumbled into exactly?
"She was left for dead," corrected the man. "On the sands of Tatooine. As was I. But fate sometimes steps in to rescue the wretched."
"In my case," said the woman — Fennec — pulling open a strap over her abdomen to reveal cyborg parts. "Boba Fett was that fate."
I gasped, unable to look away. I had seen a lot of mods in my day, and I instantly had a million questions.
"And I am now in his service," she finished, looking over at her boss with pride. She turned her attention to me, her eyes flashing with something as she took me in — Interest? … Recognition? "And what about you? When did he pick you up?"
I didn't know how to answer. I glanced over at Din, who nodded toward me.
"I have a sharpshooter, too."
The corners of her lips curled ever so slightly in an approving smile.
"I want my armor back," said Boba Fett firmly.
"It goes against the Mandalorian creed," replied Din, shaking his head.
"The armor was given to my father, Jango, by your forebears. In exchange I guarantee the safety of the child, as well as your own."
"The bounty on your little friend has risen significantly," said Fennec. "You can buy ten suits of armor for the price on its head."
My blood turned cold. Something about the way they were speaking was awakening all my recently-placated fears. Who are these people?
"I'd say we're offering a fair deal under the circumstances," said Boba Fett.
Suddenly, a sound caught all of our attention. Unbelievable, I thought.
I looked up and an Imperial troop carrier was flying overhead — heading straight for where the Razor Crest was parked. Din and I exchanged a look and the four of us began hurrying up the hill.
When we reached the peak, Grogu was still perched on his stone, enveloped in blue light and deeply focused on something Din and I would probably never understand.
"Time to go, kid!" Shouted Din, but the child didn't move. He braced himself and dove into the column of light.
"Mando, don't!" I called.
It was too late — he was immediately thrown backward, crashing into the craggy ground with an exclamation of frustration and pain.
"Kid," I pled, calling through the waves of light. "Grogu, please, we've got to go, please come back!"
"Dank Farrik," cursed Din, and I followed his gaze down to where a mess of stormtroopers were flanking the hill, exchanging blasts with Boba Fett and Fennec.
"We've got to fend them off," I said. "We can't make him snap out of it, we're just gonna have to keep them at bay."
Below us, Boba Fett took out two guards with his staff.
"We might not need to," quipped Din, sounding impressed.
"Uh…" I breathed, pointing up at where a second troop carrier was swooping down. "I think we're gonna need to tag in."
Din looked around frantically, trying to figure out what to do.
"Let me try one more time," he said, making for Grogu yet again. Before I had a chance to roll my eyes, he had been shoved back by the light. I caught him, holding him up.
"You okay?" I asked. He panted in frustration and nodded.
"Okay," he called to Grogu. "Okay, we're gonna protect you."
"Just stay there," I shouted. "We'll be back soon!"
We scrambled down the rocks toward the skirmish, arriving to Fennec's holdout just in time to hear a stormtrooper shout to her, "We don't want you, we want the child!"
Hearing it made my heart freeze in my chest.
Not gonna happen, I thought, gripping my blaster.
Din arrived before me and hit a button on his forearm sending a swarm of little rockets out into the fray, making contact with several troopers. I leapt down behind a large boulder and propped my arms on the top, shooting several more with precision and speed. I saw Fennec snap her head around to find the source, and when her eyes landed on me, she gave me an impressed look. I took the opportunity that the lull in retaliation provided to scramble down and join them.
"Okay, lets move in," ordered Din, and we headed toward the throng of approaching troopers, the three of us back-to-back, firing at will.
"This isn't looking good," called Fennec over the blasts. A bold ricocheted off of Din's armor with an almost laughable *tink*.
"I've seen worse," he quipped, and I chuckled.
"I'm out," I called as the press of my trigger finger drew nothing. I dropped to one knee and yanked a power-pack out of my boot to reload. Fennec covered me, taking out two troopers right over my head.
"Thanks," I said as I popped back up. "You're an impressive shot!"
"Back at you," she said, and I felt it was high praise indeed. She shot two troopers, and five more appeared behind them. "They're everywhere!"
"Fennec," called Din. "You can get out of here. I owe you from last time."
"We have a deal," she said in a low, powerful voice.
The sounds of bolts hitting beskar was becoming more and more frequent as Din spread himself wide to cover Fennec and me from the majority of troopers that were approaching from the South side. Suddenly, a small blinking cylinder appeared in the grass in front of them. The beeping sped up and stopped, and I braced myself. It exploded, sending troopers flying. As the smoke cleared, we saw a figure that almost looked like Din at first glance — it was Boba Fett, in what I could only presume was the armor he had been seeking. Within seconds, he had flattened the clearing, destroying every trooper that came near him.
"Back to the ship," I heard a remaining trooper yell to his compatriots. "Back to the ship!"
They fled, looking like white field-mice scurrying for a hole. The trooper carriers levitated into the air, hastily making wide turns to soar away as quickly as possible. Before they had the chance, Boba Fett ducked in front of us and a rocket shot off of his back, causing me to jump out of my skin. It arced through the sky, finally making perfect contact with one of the carriers. It immediately crumbled, enveloped in flames, and careened into the second ship, taking that one down with it. They crashed to the ground in a massive fiery cloud.
"Wow," I breathed, in awe. I turned to Din. "Can yours do that?"
"Nice shot," said Din, impressed.
"I was aiming for the other one," replied Boba Fett. I chuckled.
Before we had a chance to celebrate, there was a vague red flash in the sky. We looked up at it just in time to see a huge jet of red light plummet directly into the Razor Crest. Before I could process what was happening, the ship — our whole ship — was gone, reduced to nothing but shrapnel and fire. Gone.
Din ran forward a few steps, and I clapped a hand over my mouth, suddenly unable to breathe.
"Better get to your ship," Fennec said to Boba Fett, and he shot off with his jetpack to find it.
I looked at Din, his shoulders heaving with panicked, grief-stricken breaths as he stared down at the smoking rubble below us. Somehow I knew, without ever having met him, that this — this faceless red light of destruction in the sky — was Moff Gideon. I wheeled around to look up the hill and the blood drained from my face.
"Mando," I called. "The light is gone."
He turned to see that the column of light at the henge had disappeared.
"The light is gone!" I repeated, and the three of us began running up the hill as fast as we could.
We'd made it halfway up when a loud blast stopped us in our tracks. We looked back up at the sky to see an Imperial ship had entered the atmosphere, and that something — some things — were hurtling toward the seeing stone at full speed.
"Come on," stressed Din, and we resumed our ascent. We made it to the peak just in time to see four figures — they looked like droids or cyborgs, but with hateful red eyes and massive metal bodies — grab the kid off of the stone and shoot back into the air, zooming up to the ship above.
This isn't happening. This can't be happening.
As Din and I looked up at the receding beasts, trying to catch a glimpse of the kid, Fennec raised a communicator to her mouth.
"They've got the baby," she said, presumably to Boba Fett in his ship. "Don't let them get away."
"Affirmative," came the tinny voice through the transponder.
Sure enough, the ship swooped into view.
"I've got a lock on them," said Boba Fett.
"No," Din and I said in unison.
"Tell him to disengage," he ordered. "I don't want the kid hurt."
"Abort pursuit," Fennec obliged, holding up her communicator. "Disengage. Do not harm the child."
"Copy," replied Boba Fett. "I'll do a loose follow, see where they're headed."
We stared up helplessly as his ship tailed the four vanishing figures up into the clouds.