Stars rushed by the viewport, bright white light illuminating the cockpit. Din stared ahead blankly, his mind buzzing.

Vik's words echoed loudly in his mind, over and over. Come to Mandalore. I can help you find the atonement you seek.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, knocking his helmet against the headrest behind him. Boba's face floated before him, brows furrowed in worry.

I can help you, Din. Just say the word, and I'm with you.

Boba would have come with him, Din knew. Boba would have set all of his other responsibilities aside in a heartbeat to help Din, to accompany him to Mandalore. But this was - I have to do this by myself. Din thought, nerves twisting in his stomach. I have to know, once and for all, if this is - if I can return to the tribe. If I can be redeemed.

An odd emotion flooded him, desperate hope and bitter regret hitting him all at once. I want to return to the tribe. Din thought fiercely. I do. But - what about Boba?

The armorer certainly wouldn't approve of his growing bond with Boba. She would never accept him as a worthy spouse unless Boba too swore the Creed. But that's not something I can ask him to do. Din thought. He doesn't believe in the Creed. I can't ask him to follow it.

And even if Boba did swear the Creed, would Din even be allowed back into the tribe? And if Vik could help him, if redemption was truly possible - then what? What do I do then?

Din was painfully aware that this thing with Boba was still new, still easily broken. It had only been yesterday that he had kissed Boba for the first time, clutching him close in desperation. It had only been this morning that he woke up in Boba's arms, his face tucked into Boba's chest.

What if returning to the tribe means I have to give that up?

The tribe had cast him out, had officially declared him an apostate. According to the armorer, there was no redemption possible, no way for Din to atone for breaking the Creed. No way for him to come back to the covert.

What does Vik know that she doesn't? Din wondered tiredly, burying his helmet in his hands, the beskar cool against his skin. A sudden desire to run took hold of him, a desperate wish to turn the ship around and head straight for Tatooine, to throw himself into Boba's arms.

Why didn't I let him come along? Din thought, feeling suddenly foolish.

The thought of seeing Vik again made him anxious, but the thought of Boba seeing Vik was somehow worse. Vik and Din hadn't parted on the best of terms when things had ended between them several years ago, and somehow Din doubted that the other Mandalorian's opinion of him had improved much during Din's time wandering the galaxy with Grogu.

It's over. Din reminded himself, leaning back against the headrest. I'm never going back to him. Things with Boba had been good, so far. I won't let Vik ruin that.

Guilt pricked underneath Din's skin. Boba had been so understanding when Din had refused his offer of help, so supportive.

I'll be here when you get back. Boba's voice echoed in his mind, strong and sure.

The ship dropped out of hyperspace, the sudden chime of the navicomputer startling him out of his anxious thoughts.

Looks like we're here.

Din steered the ship closer to the planet, turning on the ship's scanners.

"All right, Vik." He muttered, Mandalore growing steadily larger in the viewport. "Where are you?"

The console in front of him began to chime as if in response, signaling an incoming transmission. Jabbing the console a little harder than necessary, Din accepted. A small holo took shape on the dashboard in front of him, a soft crackling noise echoing over the speakers.

"Hello, Djarin."

"Vik." Din said evenly. Anxiety churned in his stomach.

"I was beginning to think you hadn't gotten my message."

"I'm here, aren't I?" He said, pushing down his irritation at Vik's condescending tone.

"Took you long enough." Vik drawled.

Refusing to rise to the bait, Din shrugged. "I'm a busy man."

"Sure. An outcast's life must be busy."

Din could practically hear Vik rolling his eyes, and he tensed, irritation spiking. "What do you want?"

"I just want to help, Djarin. Is that so strange?"

"Strange enough." Din muttered.

"Well, I know a safe spot on the surface to enter the mines. If you follow me on approach, I'll show you."

"Really." Din said skeptically.

"Yes."

Din sighed, uneasy. "Fine. Just make it quick, will you?"

"What, got somewhere to be?" Vik mocked.

"Yes, actually, with my son." Din retorted hotly. Boba had promised he would pick the kid up and watch him at the palace until Din returned, but the thought of not being there to pick Grogu up made guilt prick at his conscience. The least I can do is try to be back with him as soon as possible.

Vik made a vaguely derisive sound, but thankfully didn't say anything about Grogu. "Just follow my path, will you?"

"Fine."

"Sending coordinates now."

The console beeped softly, and Din accepted the coordinates, putting them into the navicomputer. The holo of Vik vanished, a small ship taking shape in Din's peripheral vision. Following Vik's ship, Din steered his ship towards the planet, checking the coordinates on the dashboard.

How does he know so much about the mines? Din thought irritably. He could have mentioned it when I came to see the tribe.

Following Vik's ship, Din steered his ship down to the surface, squinting to see through the thick precipitation that hammered against the viewport. Thick clouds obscured his vision, their color a washed out, sickly yellow.

Mandalore is poisoned. The armorer's voice echoed in his mind.

By the time he landed on the planet's surface, Din had to admit that she was probably right. The ground was gouged and cracked, jagged spikes of rock protruding out of the ground. Oily green liquid pooled in rock crevices, sticking to the bottom of Din's boots as he climbed out of the cockpit. The surface was completely barren and still, without even a whisper of wind or the squeak of an animal to break the silence.

Leaning against his ship, Din watched Vik approach, the sound of his boots on the ground a loud echo in the vast emptiness.

"So where's the entrance?" Din demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You always were all business." Vik scoffed. "Aren't you going to say hello?"

He sauntered over to Din's side, leaning against the ship with a cocked hip. Din took a step back, gritting his teeth.

"You said you wanted to help. So help."

"So impatient." Vik drawled, leaning in closer, his knee bumping into Din's. "We'll get to that later."

Jerking his leg away, Din shook his head. "No. You said you knew a way to the Living Waters. So show me."

"All right, all right." Vik laughed, the sound grating on Din's nerves. "Follow me, then." Bumping his shoulder against Din's, he strolled over towards the entrance of one of the crumbling rock caves a little ways away. Clenching his jaw in irritation, Din followed, keeping a few feet between them.

Vik led him into the caves, tapping a button on his gauntlet to turn on his helmet's light. They walked in silence for several minutes, the only sound the echoing crunch of rocks under their boots. Finally, Vik stopped abruptly, holding out his arm.

"Here it is." He announced, looking down. Din stopped next to him and followed his gaze, peering down at the large hole in the rock in front of them.

"This is it?" He asked doubtfully, looking down at the cavernous expanse below them. "How deep does it go?"

"Only one way to find out." Vik said, slapping Din roughly on the back. Flinching, Din pulled away and nodded brusquely.

"Fine. Let's go." Tapping the controls on his gauntlet, he jumped off the edge and engaged his jetpack, letting it slow his descent. Vik followed him, the sound of his jetpack echoing loudly in the vast space. Din landed with a slight stumble, his feet sliding on the crumbling gravel beneath him. Looking around, he shivered, cold sweat dripping down his neck.

All around him were the buried ruins of Mandalore's abandoned capital city. Old metal buildings were covered in rust and faded moss, half sunk into the crumbling ground. Piles of boulders lay everywhere, their jagged edges scoured with carbon burns that spoke of a large explosion. Animal bones were scattered everywhere, crunching under Din's feet as he took a step forward, making his skin crawl. Clusters of tangled, glowing vines growing into the cave walls cast an eerie green light over everything.

"This is it?" He asked, shivering as his voice echoed loudly against the stone walls.

"Yes." Vik nodded, drawing his blaster. Uneasy, Din did the same, casting a wary glance over the ruins.

"Follow me."

"Where are we going?" Din asked irritably.

"You wanted to see the Living Waters. The mines are this way."

Muttering under his breath, Din followed Vik into the ruins, watching carefully for any sign of danger. A few buildings creaked ominously, but other than that it was completely silent, the only sound the soft crunch of their boots on dirt and stone.

Something feels very wrong here. Din thought, goose bumps rising on his arms. He swallowed nervously, every muscle on alert. It's too quiet.

Where were all the animals? Surely the Empire's destruction of Mandalore hadn't killed off all the animals, even if it had buried the city so far underground. Some of the piles of bones appeared more recent, as if they had died only a short time ago. There was no life here apart from the two Mandalorians wandering further into the ruins, no insects scurrying below, no rodents scavenging, nothing. There were hardly even any plants apart from the sickly-looking vines and sparse moss.

It really feels like a poisoned planet. Din thought, his apprehension growing by the minute.

"Where are these mines?" He asked, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt.

"Relax, Djarin." Vik said, turning down another dark pathway between two rusted buildings. A faded mural on one wall boasted a peeling image of a proud young Mandalorian in a battle stance, covered head to toe in gleaming bronze beskar, the words painted beneath her faded and barely legible.

Clan Wren - the best for all your forging needs!

"We're almost there." Vik continued, his tone haughty.

Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet, clutching his blaster so tightly his gloves creaked.

They walked along in silence, as Vik led them through several twists and turns, passing a faded apartment block and a crumbling stone statue. Slowly, the path changed, as buildings were few and far between and the cavern walls became narrower and narrower, gradually becoming a stone tunnel. They followed the tunnel for several minutes, the space so narrow that Din had to pull his elbows closer to his body to avoid bumping into the walls. He continued to follow Vik, his heart hammering nervously in his chest.

Finally, the tunnel began to broaden again, gradually becoming wider and wider as the eerie green glow turned into a brighter, yellow light. Following Vik, Din stepped out into a large, hollow cave.

"Here we are." Vik said smugly, gesturing at the space around them.

This cave had clearly been around much longer than the crumbling caverns that held the ruins. Its walls were a smooth, sturdy stone, covered in faded but highly detailed paintings. Gaping at the sheer number of colorful images, Din holstered his blaster and walked over to one wall to inspect them more closely. There were paintings of Mandalorians large and small, young and old, some in full beskar and some wearing only a few pieces of armor. There were humans and Twi'leks, Rodians and Toydarians, even Wookies.

So this is what Mandalore was like, once. Din thought, gazing at the intricate brushwork in awe. It wasn't like the covert at all. It was - all this. Humans and non-humans, traditionalists and modernists, all of them Mandalorian in a different way. There were so many of us. Din thought, tracing the lines of a painted yellow helmet, the texture smooth and cool even through his gloves.

Stepping back from the walls, he looked around at the rest of the cave. A large mythosaur skull decorated one of the walls, the bone yellowed with age, its tusks covered in a thick layer of dust. He walked over to the water's edge, his footsteps echoing loudly in the vast space. The stone under his feet was almost as smooth as the walls, sheets of shimmering black rock that slanted downwards to the large body of water at the edge of the cavern. The water was dark and still, its surface hardly shimmering as Din toed the water's edge and looked down at his reflection. A silver beskar helmet stared back at him, its visor cool and expressionless.

This was once an important place - a ceremonial place. Din thought, looking up from the water. Looking around the room, he tried to imagine what it had looked like before Mandalore's destruction. Had the paintings been regularly touched up, their colors bright and beautiful? Did the mythosaur skull once shine proudly on the wall, a beacon for their people? Were ceremonies conducted here? Adoptions, weddings, a foundling's first baptism into the tribe? Had the room been filled with Mandalorians of all ages and Creeds, all gathered to celebrate?

I hope so. Din thought, crouching down by the water's edge and reverently dipping his hand in the water, watching as his reflection rippled in the low light.

"Well?"

Din startled as Vik's impatient voice broke the silence, almost falling face first into the water. Blushing, he stood up and nodded.

"This is it."

"Excellent." Vik drawled, sauntering over to Din. "What did I say? I told you I knew the way."

Din nodded, skin crawling uncomfortably as Vik threw an arm around his shoulders. "I - yes, thank you."

Din shook him off and made to take a step towards the water, but Vik took hold of his arm, making an impatient noise.

"C'mon, Djarin. Aren't you going to thank me properly? I showed you the mines, didn't I?"

Mouth dry, Din shook his head. "I don't - what do you -"

Vik tightened his hold on Din's arm and pulled him closer, pressing their hips together. "I think I deserve a little thanks, don't you? "

"I - no." Din shook his head again, shuffling as far back as he could. "I'm not interested." He ripped his arm out of Vik's hold, taking another step back.

Vik scoffed derisively. "C'mon, Djarin, haven't you missed me? I can make it good for you, you know I can."

"I said no, Vik." Din said angrily, curling his hands into fists.

"Don't be like that." Vik stepped in closer, forcing Din to take a step backwards, water sloshing over his boots. "Don't you want to return to the covert?"

Din shook his head, clenching his fists so tightly his joints ached. His own heartbeat was loud in his ears, galloping in his chest.

"It's the least you can do for me." Vik insisted. "I helped you get here."

"Stop." Din said weakly, the sound of his own voice distant through the rushing sound in his ears.

"You'll like it." Vik pressed, leaning in and grabbing Din by the hips, his grip tight and painful through Din's flight suit. "I promise."

"No." Din gasped, shoving Vik backwards roughly, causing the other man to stumble onto the ground. Heart racing, Din drew his blaster and headed for the tunnel.

"Fine." Vik snarled behind him, beskar clanking as he stood. "Go on, go! See if anyone else will ever want you again."

Din ignored him, his legs trembling, and continued his fast walk down the tunnel.

"You'll be an apostate forever, you know! No matter how many baptisms you have!" Vik shouted angrily, his voice echoing against the stone walls. "You'll never be one of us!"

Din picked up his pace, running through the tunnel as fast as he could, his chest burning with every breath. He didn't dare look behind him, focusing on the tunnel ahead of him as it opened up into the ruins, and sprinted through the old city, Vik's shouting still ringing in his ears. He reached the ship and leapt into the pilot's seat, jabbing at the controls with trembling fingers. Watching as the planet's surface grew smaller and smaller beneath him, Din steered the ship into the atmosphere and programmed the hyperdrive coordinates for Tatooine, his hands still shaking violently.

Din took a deep breath and engaged the hyperdrive, watching the stars streak past the viewport.

"That went well." He muttered, resting his head in his hands, the beskar of his helmet digging reassuringly into his forehead.

Now what?