As they prepared to move out from the safe room, Din eyed Mayfeld. He looked ready enough. He too had cleaned up and the bacta had already helped the black eye fade. He was back in the dark guard's uniform, but no longer had its matching armor or helmet.
All of them were well-rested, fed, re-armed, and if not completely healed, much stronger than before. Even Grogu looked grimly determined as he peeked out the sling. Both Din and Mayfeld carried as much water and rations as possible.
"There's one thing I don't understand," said Mayfeld. "Do they still think you're dead?"
"I don't know." Din had told him about his ruse to make it seem as if he was dead and disguise himself as a guard. It seemed a lifetime ago.
"Be nice to know if they think they're up against a couple measly guards or a real live Mando."
"They brought Imps. We might have lost that element of surprise. Let's move out."
"Don't need to tell me twice."
They opened the door and with weapons drawn moved down the stairs to the tunnels. No sound. They moved slowly and carefully in the dark, taking every turn with extreme caution. The night vision function on Din's helmet gave him an advantage. He switched to heat vision at each corner—it could work through walls that weren't that thick. Mayfeld carried a blaster with a lighted sight, the faintest of red glows illuminating his steps. Grogu's little body was tense, sensitive ears and eyes alert.
When they paused at one juncture, Grogu stretched out one small hand towards a jumbled pile of fallen rocks. "What?" asked Din.
"Aaahh," said Grogu, looking up at Din beseechingly. Din could not say whether it was his own senses or Grogu's, but the damp smell here seemed stronger. Some empty, echoing space lay beyond that barricade—but the heavy pile would take too much time to clear, even with Grogu's help, and a charge might collapse the entire tunnel.
"We'll look for another way through," said Din. "But we can't stay here right now." Merrix and his men were probably fanning out around the Arena, checking building and alleys. It was only a matter of time before they moved into the tunnels and the safe room. When would Merrix realize they had the code?
The answer came sooner than Din liked.
Grogu squirmed and pointed when they reached another junction. Din held up his hand and Mayfeld nodded. Around the corner Din could detect a group of warm human shapes. This was not a good place to engage in a firefight. He signaled for them to fall back. They backed up the way they came.
"We need to go to the surface," whispered Din. "We can seize a ship."
"Are you crazy?"
"We'll be caught like womp rats down here soon. We have allies up there."
"Who, more convicts?"
Din stared at him. "What, unlike you?"
"You really know how to hurt a guy." Mayfeld exhaled. "Fine. I just don't feel like running into Burg."
"That makes two of us. Come on."
They jogged to the closest exit, a winding staircase cut into the rock. Mayfeld stood at the door controls and gave Din a countdown on his fingers before opening. Din shifted Grogu towards his back to better shield him, then readied himself to go out shooting. The door opened to a sun-baked street. No one in sight, which was good. No cover, which was bad. They would have to move down the middle of the street until they came to the closest open door. From the distance they heard blaster fire—clearly the Imps had encounters some of the inmates.
"Sounds like the natives are getting restless," murmured Mayfeld.
The Imps in the tunnel could be at their backs any minute. There was nothing for it but to run.
They made it to the doorway and crouched on opposite sides. Din was just about to say something when a voice on a loudspeaker sounded throughout the Arena. It was Merrix.
"Attention!" He cleared his throat. "This thing on? Attention! Mando? We know you're here. We know what you tried to pull. Very, very smart. I've lost my most valuable employee, more than a dozen guards. There's plenty more where they came from. But I'll never, never find a better Warden." He actually sounded mournful. "Never. So as I think you can tell, I brought some extra help. I'm here to take you alive if at all possible, Mando, and for some reason our esteemed human resources chief Miss Varro wants your little pet."
Din inhaled sharply and exchanged a look with Grogu, who lowered his ears.
"That's a non-starter," muttered Mayfeld.
"Also, I know you learned about our tunnel system. The code's changed, and if you have any smart ideas about taking a ship, the energy field controls have been tied back to the Panopticon. Look. Mando. I gotta hand it to you for getting out of the Game Room in one piece. I can still give you a job."
"Guess I've been fired," said Mayfeld. "Mando this and Mando that. Story of my life."
"Shut up," said Din.
"So if you surrender quietly, give up your armor and that…green thing, maybe you'll get to live, maybe even a job." Merrix cleared his throat again. "If you don't, then in ten standard hours everyone in this whole place gets incinerated. The energy field gets turned up to 'roast.'" Again, real regret in his voice. "I hope it won't have to come to that. I went through a lot of trouble to populate my Arena. It's…just, it's always been my dream." Was that a choked sob? "But I'll sacrifice for the sake of being a team player. So to any inmate who's listening…if you can bring me the Mandalorian and his pet, you might get out of here. And all of you will get to live." Static echoed off the mud brick walls. "Ten hours."
"Oh shit," said Mayfeld. "What were you saying about allies? Think they still feel that way?"
"They're Wookies. They're honorable people."
"Honor has a limit."
Din knew that more than anyone. "We can't stay put here." He risked a glance out a window sill. Some shouts down the street—the inmates were figuring they should band together and hunt for Din and Grogu, not take potshots at stormtroopers. Great. And now they had a time limit.
"Back door, maybe?"
They edged through the room towards what looked like a kitchen. Clearly this had once been a cantina or restaurant, although all fittings and furniture had been stripped away here down to the brick. A door led to a courtyard. Another door led to a narrow back alley. More shouting came from the front of the building. Still bad—who could be on the rooftops waiting to shoot them like rats in a canyon? They could head to the roof themselves, but who could see them? He could try the jetpack again, but he might as well send up a rocket announcing Mandalorian This Way. And they would have to leave Mayfeld behind. The jetpack couldn't take the weight of two grown humans. No good options.
"We have to keep moving from building to building," Din said.
"And keep away from these maniacs and Imps? And then get fried to a crisp? Not loving our options, Mando."
"The New Republic will come." Din hoped his voice carried conviction.
"Yeah, really known for their rapid decision-making."
"The tunnels are probably shielded. This place was set up for rich tourists to hunt and watch fights."
"And incinerating guests isn't part of the revenue strategy. But how do we get back in if the code's changed?"
"I have one more grav charge. Come on."
They ran from the gate through the alley to the next doorway. Mayfeld backed up against a doorframe, then squawked. A sinuous purple tentacle wrapped around his neck and lifted him off his feet. Here on the surface, the heat vision in Din's helmet did not function as it should—perhaps interference from the energy shield. And, to his regret, it did not detect cold-blooded species very well. Like Altraxians.
"Hello Mando," Kalax said. "Who's your buddy here?"
"Let him go," said Din.
"No, I don't think so," the Altraxian answered. Din aimed his weapon directly at XXX's head, and Grogu glared ferociously. But there wasn't much to do if the tentacle was one moment away from snapping Mayfeld's neck. His face turned red as he struggled for air. Kalax pulled Mayfeld to the door and grinned. "Think I got the last laugh," he said. "Come with me to Merrix or I'll rip his head off."
"You'll rip his head off anyway," Din pointed out. Mayfeld's eyes bulged.
"That's a risk you'll have to take."
The light dimmed as a massive figure blocked the open door. A huge, red-skinned arm closed around the Altraxian's neck and snapped it like a stick. The tentacle uncurled from Mayfeld's neck and he fell to the floor, coughing. The massive purple body collapsed in a heap.
"Burg," said Din.
Burg bent down and pulled Mayfeld to his feet. "Oh, it's you."
"Small galaxy, right?" gasped Mayfeld.
Then Burg turned his attention to Din and Grogu. Din leveled his weapon at Burg. He really wasn't in the mood to fight him a third time. But Burg was focused on Grogu. "Tiny," he said in his deep, bone-shaking rumble. The boy's eyes widened, but he seemed calm. "I know you're the one made me sleep. That was real embarrassing. I lost face. My old crew don't follow me no more." He took one heavy step forwards.
"Don't come any closer," said Din. But there was something very strange in Burg's face. And it reminded Din of Greef Karga for some reason.
"Haven't slept like that for years. Years." He lifted his hand and touched his forehead with his palm, just in front of the horns. "because of the pain. Always the pain in my head since that crash years ago. Here, always. You slamming that door on my head didn't help." He glared at Din, but only briefly. "But it's gone now. The pain…I woke up and it was gone. Just…gone."
Now Din understood. Karga had worn exactly the same expression on Nevarro when Grogu had saved his life, as he watched the poisoned wound clear and vanish.
It was the same look of wonder.
"He can do that?" asked Burg.
"Yes," said Din.
"When he's so tiny?"
Din shrugged. "Don't judge him by his size."
"But why? Why did he do that?" Burg seemed gently puzzled now. Grogu's ears tipped up in a friendly way.
Din lowered his weapon. "He's very special," he said quietly. It wasn't really an answer and it wasn't quite adequate. But it was the truth.
Burg and Grogu locked gazes for a long moment. "Come with me," said Burg. "I got some other friends."
When they emerged onto the street, Din spotted a Wookie with a rifle huddled in another door, scanning the street and providing cover. It was Chahras.
"One of your friends?" asked Mayfeld.
Din and Burg both said "Yes" at the same time. "You gotta have friends here or a crew," said Burg, "You're alone, you die."
They jogged down the alley, scanning their surroundings, trying not to bunch up. They came to a more industrial-looking district of warehouses and old refineries. Fazzakkaar's pale fur shone as he came to meet them from a wide door. He growled in greeting.
They come for you and your son, Mandalorian. A group of fourteen gathers two blocks from here, to the north. They are well armed. And Imperials search house to house and down every street, in groups of five.
"Let 'em come," snarled Burg.
"Rather they didn't" said Mayfeld. Like Din, both he and Burg understood Shyriiwook—if you worked in the rough trade in this galaxy, it was foolish not to. They ducked into a wide, bare space with Chahras taking up the rear. The shouts outside grew louder.
"There's a tunnel in that building, according to the map," said Din. "I can get us in with a charge. We'll be protected there."
"It's full of Imps by now," said Mayfeld. "We'll be cornered."
But Din was thinking of Nevarro, the river of lava beneath. "This place is like Nevarro City. They used underground lava rivers to transport ore before the mines dried up, tunnels as part of the infrastructure. Merrix didn't dig all of those tunnels, he just used what was already here. There might be more than in the map."
You are certain? asked Chahras.
"No. But he thinks there might be something." He nodded at Grogu.
"Let's do it," said Burg.
They started for the building's cellar, but a single blaster fired at Fazzakkaar's feet. A group of probably seven convicts cut them off—Rhodians, Zabraks, Twi'leks, Gamorreans. A shriek came from behind them. Another motley group of six inmates. About five carried blasters, the rest bore knives and crude clubs. Their leader was apparently a grinning Zabrak who swaggered in front, pointed teeth gleaming in a sinister smile.
"So you threw in with the Mandalorian, Burg?" The smile widened. "Thought you hated his guts."
"Out of our way," said Burg.
"And who's this?" He nodded at Mayfeld. "Humans can't be trusted."
"Hey, that kind of talk is hurtful," said Mayfeld.
"Especially not one in a Merrix guard uniform."
"I came here as a prisoner. Just like you. Fucking Merrix wants us fighting each other."
"We've got help on the way to bring down Merrix," said Din. He thought it might be good not to mention that this help came from the New Republic, who had arrested and tried most of these people to begin with. "Merrix is going to kill you all even if you bring me in. You can't believe anything he says."
"Why should I believe anything you say? You were a guard on that ship. You and your kind put us here."
"I came here to stop this," said Din. "I can bring Merrix down."
"Oh, and what then? All is forgiven? We all just get pardons and go free?"
Din said nothing.
"We're gonna bring you in along with that thing." Grogu narrowed his eyes. "And then we'll get close enough to kill Merrix and escape."
"Didn't you hear him? The ship won't be able to leave?"
"They will with a knife to his throat. Be reasonable. Just hand over that little weirdo. Why do they want it so much anyway? Does it taste good?"
Burg rushed at the Zabrak and knocked him down. Chahras fired his rifle while his brother roared and hurled himself into the melee. Din and Mayfeld were faster on the draw than the ragged, hungry, desperate inmates and brought down four immediately. A Twi'lek leapt at Mayfeld and almost stabbed him in the back but Din shot out his legs from under him. Burg threw the Zabrak into a wall. He tried to get up, but Mayfeld shot and he slumped over. Din deflected another round of fire with his vambraces and tackled one of the Rhodians, knocking his blaster away.
Honestly, it was a pleasure to fight with his armor on again.
Grogu leapt free from the sling and wove under the legs of their attackers—several tried to grab him but tripped or fell as he bounded away. The Rhodian fought back ferociously. Din wrapped his neck with his whipcord, waiting until finally he slowed, then stopped. From the corner of his eye, Din saw Fazzakkaar rip another hapless Rhodian nearly in half.
The only remaining inmates were the two Gamorreans. Burg and Din each took a step towards them. They looked at each other, squealed, and ran.
"Gamorreans," said Burg.
Din scooped up Grogu and led the group down the stairs, Chahras again covering them from the rear. In his mind Din pictured the map. He switched the light on his helmet on as they felt their way around the cellar. Soon he found the tell-tale sign of the door; once you knew what to look for, the camouflage was easy to see through.
"All right, it's here," said Din. "Stay back. I have one more grav charge." But Burg frowned.
"Only one left? Don't be stupid, little man," he said. "Where is this door?" Din pointed to the disguised data pad that controlled entry. Burg punched it with a fist like a rock. Sparks flew as circuits shorted. The façade of mock bricks fell away and the door opened a crack. Burg pushed, but the door only opened a few more centimeters—too narrow even for Grogu. Then Chahras and Fazzakkaar took turns, but only made a little progress. Mayfeld faced out with both blasters drawn, covering them as they worked.
At last Grogu sighed and frowned. While Fazzakkaar shoved, he closed his eyes and held out his clawed hands, moving them as if he was moving the doors. Something gave, and under Fazzakkaar's great hands the door opened wide enough for a Wookie. He looked surprised but did not seem to suspect that Grogu had any hand in it. Chahras, however, looked closely at the boy, who stared back at him undaunted.
The child, said Chahras. He made the door move with his mind.
"Yeah, he's special. That's why the Imps want him," said Mayfeld impatiently. "We all caught up now?"
But Chahras still stared. This child is Jedi. I saw them when I fought in Battle of Kashyyyk. They fought alongside my people. And then they were murdered and betrayed. He looked at Din. The Empire must not take him.
"You know I will never let that happen," answered Din.
Burg tried to shut the door behind them, but the mechanism was totally broken. "And now everyone can follow us down," said Mayfeld. "We better hope we find your secret tunnel or whatever before we get trapped between inmates and Imps."
They wound down a spiral stone staircase and into the tunnel system once more. After a few twists and turns, the darkness was complete.
"We need to find another opening, like you did before," whispered Din, his helmet close to Grogu's ear. He clutched the boy in his left arm and held his blaster in his right. "It'll be blocked."
"Hmmmmm," said Grogu. He held out a hand. Din could not see his face, but knew he had shut his eyes so he could focus on listening and feeling.
All of them moved slowly, straining to hear anything that might be an advancing Imp. They dared not use a light, but Din relied on his night vision setting. The Wookies and Burg, too, could see well enough in the dark. "Coulda used some fucking night goggles," muttered Mayfeld to no one in particular.
They turned a corner and found themselves at another juncture. One way led into more darkness—the other into a pile of rubble. Grogu squirmed and pointed at the jumbled rocks. Din set Grogu down, stepped forward, and moved a rock. Then another, then another.
From a gap between rocks, a cool, damp breeze blew.
A rock floated out on its own and tumbled down. All of them started at Grogu, who stood with his hands out. Then Din looked at the others. "Help us. This is our way out." Soon Burg and both Wookies joined in, pulling down rock after rock.
A sound of echoing footsteps came from the distance.
"We got company," said Mayfeld calmly, lifting his weapons. "Get a move on."
Blaster fire hit the rocks centimeters from Din's hand. "Hold them off!" he said.
"I'm trying!"
They all worked frantically to clear a passage. When the hole was Grogu-sized, Din looked through, saw nothing but an empty space and a stone floor. He grabbed his son and pushed him through, away from the approaching stormtroopers. Whatever was on the other side was better than Imps. Chahras turned back and joined Mayfeld, firing to keep their pursuers at bay. A few more rocks fell away—on the other side, Grogu was still working. "Mayfeld, get through," said Din. "I'll cover you." He was the next smallest, after all. Mayfeld didn't need to be told twice. He squeezed and wriggled until he was clear. The white-armored troopers grew closer. Fazzakkaar grabbed a massive boulder and hurled it at them. One of the troopers shrieked as his helmet shattered. Burg did the same.
The hole was now Wookie-sized. "Go!" said Din to Fazzakkaar, and the Wookie struggled through. "I'll cover you and Burg, go!" said Din to Chahras, but the Wookie snarled.
No! Go to your son! The Wookie looked once at Din with soulful brown eyes. The Empire will enslave and destroy him, even as they enslaved our people. I saw with my own eyes what they did to the Jedi. Then he turned and fired at their attackers. Reluctantly Din crawled through the hole. He turned awkwardly, kneeling on the rubble, and fired at the troopers through a crack in the rock pile. How many did Merrix bring with him, anyway? Now it was Burg's turn, but it was taking him too long to squeeze through—he was not as tall as a Wookie but certainly wider.
"Pull him!" yelled Mayfeld. Fazzakkaar and Mayfeld each took an arm and yanked as hard as they could. "The fuck you been eating here?" Mayfeld groaned.
"Hole too small!" yelled Burg.
"Well, obviously!"
With a last yank they pulled Burg all the way through and they collapsed on the other side of the pile of rubble. Fazzakkaar roared at his brother to join them, but just as Chahras turned, multiple bolts of blaster fire hit him in the back. He screamed and fell. And the Imps advanced over his body.
Fazzakkaar bellowed and turned to go back through the rock passage, but Burg held him back. "Buddy, he's gone! We gotta go!" yelled Mayfeld, returning fire at the Imps who were now at the wall. Fazzakkaar shook himself free and put his hands on his pale head.
"We have to block the way behind us," said Din. He put a hand on Fazzakkaar's arm, met his pale eyes. "I'm sorry. But we don't have a choice."
Fazzakkaar turned away. Do as you must.
The others fell back around to the other side of the room as Din placed the charge in the rubble—his last one. The countdown chirped. Din dove away and braced himself over Grogu's body, covering his ears. The kid might be able to shield himself, but Din wasn't taking any chances. The explosion in the enclosed space was deafening. The hole they had dug collapsed, as did the roof above it. A shower of rocks and broken bricks rained down. On the other side, the Imps yelled as the tunnel collapsed.
Then a hollow silence fell, broken only by a distant drip, drip, drip of water.
"We're stuck here now," said Burg. His voice echoed—they must have been in the middle of a larger space.
"No," said Din. "There's another opening. Feel the movement of the air? This opens to the outside."
They all struggled to their feet. Din risked a light. They were in a massive underground room with a vaulted ceiling lined with smooth brick and tile. The floor below them, paved with slabs of dark stone, was slick and damp. Grogu held up his arms beseechingly. His ears drooped with sorrow for the fallen Wookie as well as weariness—he had lifted rocks, escaped from enemies, and opened doors. Din picked him up and cradled him while he looked around. "You did good," he whispered. "You did good, buddy." The boy nestled into his shoulder with a sigh.
"What is this place?" asked Burg. Din led them away from the smoking rubble and towards the center of the tunnel. The floor ended in an abrupt ledge. A black river flowed below through another tunnel lined with brick, stretching away seemingly into infinity, about a dozen meters wide. Stonework docks and rusted machines like old cranes lay on either side. Several flat barges rested in the still, dark water.
"Fuck me but you were right," said Mayfeld.
"Language," murmured Din, patting Grogu's back. Din led them down a ramp to the docks and they got a closer look at the barges. The first two were badly damaged and half-sunk, but the last, although pitted and rusty, looked like it was floating. "Maybe we can get this to move."
"I'd be surprised if that pile of junk has an engine," said Mayfeld.
"We find poles," said Burg, looking at the metal wreckage around them.
"Here," said Din. He handed Grogu to Mayfeld, who looked startled. It had not gone so well the last time he held the boy. But Grogu seemed comfortable enough in Mayfeld's arms. Din stepped gingerly onto the barge, waiting for it to sink under his weight. But it stayed afloat. There was some water inside, but it did not seem too badly damaged. This one had benches—at one point maybe it had actually been a ferry? He brushed some grime off the pitted, corroded control panel. "Maybe I can—"
"This ferry will depart in ten standard minutes," announced the distorted, vaguely female voice of a droid. Din flinched and looked all over the boat but saw no droid.
"Droid?" he asked. "Where are you?"
"I am here."
So typical. "Be more specific."
"You stand on me."
Reflexively Din looked down at his feet, but he grasped it now. The boat didn't just have a droid pilot—it was a droid. He had heard about things like this, but they had fallen out of favor probably in the time of the Old Republic when freestanding droids became standard. A dim yellow light now shone from the control panel. "How far do you go?"
"My final destination is the Crellanian Mines, with five stops in between. This ferry departs in eight minutes. Please take your seats."
"Droid, where are the mines located?"
"My designation is F5-62," said the voice, a touch frostily.
"Good, I like a boat with an attitude," said Mayfeld.
"F5-62," said Din, working hard to keep his tone polite. "Please give me the coordinates of the mines."
The ferry-droid responded with a binary code. Din captured it with the data function of his vambrace and compared it against a map downloaded back in the safe room.
"That's the Panopticon," said Din. "Merrix and Varro turned the old mines into the Panopticon."
Fazzakkaar shrugged, clearly numb with grief. Burg looked confused. "Panop-what?" he asked.
"No way," said Mayfeld. He was patting Grogu's back now too—you just couldn't help it. "No fu—no way. I know what you're thinking, you crazy Mando. No, no, no."
"We're going back to the Panopticon," said Din. "And we're bringing it down."