Eighteen hours and three stopovers later, the swirling blue and white tunnel of hyperspace abruptly gave way to star-studded blackness, the large green orb of their destination straight ahead of them. Something inside Din relaxed for the first time in months, and he couldn't help the slight smile that came to his lips under his buy'ce at the sight of the planet. On their first trip, he had aimed for the first area he could find with a sparse population, but this time he knew exactly where he wanted to go. The village was on the far side of Sorgan, but the N-1's speed cut the otherwise hours-long trek around its orbit in half.

Breaking through the thin layer of wispy clouds, the lush, green landscape stretched out beneath them, and up ahead he could just make out a break in the thick canopy of forest. With his little hands braced against the cockpit cover and nose nearly squashed against the transparisteel, Grogu let out a squawk of delight as they cleared the last line of trees and the village came into view. Din chuckled when the kid banged his three-digit hand against it, suddenly anxious to be on the ground, then gently eased his fist away from the canopy. "Just a few more minutes, ad'ika." The hamlet was larger than he remembered: more huts and outbuildings stood scattered about the clearing, and at least a half-dozen new krill ponds had been dug, but everything about it remained saturated in familiarity and a quaint timelessness.

He glanced down as they flew over, and dozens of curious yet familiar faces peered up at him, shading their eyes from the afternoon sun and its blinding reflection off the ship's hull. There was a small clearing about two kliks past the village more than big enough for the N-1, so he set his navigation for it and began prepping for landing- which turned out to be one of the least eventful in recent memory. As the engines powered down the canopy slid forward, and a fresh breeze laden with the scent of flowers and cedar immediately chased away the stale, recycled air from inside the cockpit. Grogu wasted no time springing off Din's lap to romp in the tall grass amid a flurry of giggles, but Din was much slower climbing out of the starfighter and stretching out the knots in his muscles from sitting so long in one position. He loved the speed and snappy handling of the N-1, but comfort over long distances certainly wasn't a primary factor in its design. It was times like these that he missed the Razor Crest; it might not have been pretty, but at least it had space for him to stand up and move around. And a small kitchenette to store food so he didn't have to rely solely on rations. And a fresher. And a bunk. Kriff, he missed his bunk!

Nothing to be done for it now, he chastised himself. At least he had a ship of his own again and wasn't still dependent on loaners or public transport. Maybe sometime soon he could find a second ship that was better suited to long trips. For now, he flipped up the seat and pulled a small travel bag and his jetpack out of the compartment underneath- whoever thought to add that little feature, he decided, was a genius. Sliding the Rising Phoenix into place on his back and shouldering the bag, he took a moment to flip the display in his helmet to infrared and scan the forest in front of them. Only a handful of familiar animal-shaped heat signatures broke up the canvas of blues; satisfied with no immediate threat of danger he locked down the starfighter then called for Grogu and together they set off for the village.

Spring was in full bloom all around them, which gave Grogu countless opportunities for distraction by the various insects winging through the foliage and small amphibians that lived in the brooke gurgling through the undergrowth to his left and easily doubling the time it took to traverse the mile-and-a-half distance. Din held back a sigh each time his son scampered off after some new discovery but followed along patiently anyway. The whole point of them coming here was to slow down and decompress from everything that had happened; who was he to stand in the way of Grogu having a little fun? And if he was completely honest, it was nice to meander slowly through the forests around the village without constantly looking over his shoulder for kyramude or Klatooinian raiders lurking in the shadows.

Eventually the giggling of children and the low, indistinguishable murmur of the village drifted toward them on the breeze, and a second later they stepped past the last bushrow and into the wide, flat clearing. Din's step faltered as he was ambushed by a sudden bout of nervousness. He had been gone for almost three years with no communication. What if the villagers didn't remember him? Would they even welcome him without the escort of one of their own?

"Eh?" Grogu reached toward the cluster of huts and turned questioning eyes to his father, clearly confused as to why they had stopped so close to their destination. Words of reassurance escaped him; he couldn't rationalize his hesitation in his own mind, much less find a way to explain it in a way Grogu would understand.

Don't overthink it, gar utreekov. Just go. "Yeah buddy. I'm coming." He shoved the doubts aside and forced his feet to move forward, the kid toddling a stride in front of him as they approached the edge of the krill ponds.

Solus

T'ad

Ehn

Cuir…

The chatter from the village took on an excited tone, and a few seconds later a small group of children came running toward them, with three or four adults trailing closely behind. A lovely teenage girl led the charge, dark hair tousled by the breeze and a broad smile across her face. She almost looked like-

Winta? It seemed impossible, but there was no mistaking that it was Omera's daughter. The last time he saw her she had been a little girl of eleven, barely coming to his waist but already with a vibrancy that defied her small stature. Now she was a beautiful young lady on the cusp of womanhood and looking more like her mother than ever. A lump suddenly lodged in his throat at the prospect of seeing Omera again.

"Mr. Mando!" she called as she skidded to a stop in front of him, the gaggle of children crowding behind her with equally ecstatic smiles on every face. "You're back!" Her gaze bounced from his visor to Grogu and back again, ping-ponging back and forth until he finally realized she was restraining the desire to scoop Grogu into her arms until he gave her permission.

His son, however, felt no such compulsion to wait: he scampered toward her, arms outstretched and chattering out a stream of gibberish much like when Ona greeted him, then vaulted himself into her embrace. She staggered back a step, as much in shock as to compensate for his sudden weight in her arms, her smile morphing into a look of surprised delight when she looked back at Din. "He didn't do that before!"

"He's… learned a few things since we were here last." He took a small step forward and scanned the group, deliberately including the adults standing a few feet away. "It's good to see you all again. I hope you don't mind that we're visiting unannounced."

"Of course not," one of the women declared with a reassuring smile. She was the only red-headed woman in the village, a good friend of Omera's who had connected surprisingly well with Cara Dune- but for the life of him he couldn't remember her name. "You're always welcome here." She tipped her head in invitation then turned and started back toward the huts, the matter apparently settled. The children peppered Din with questions as he allowed himself to be swept along after her, and if he thought the kid capable of such a thing he would have sworn Grogu was smirking at him from the fold of Winta's arms.

Far from the aloof reception Din expected, nearly all of the villagers left their work and crowded around them as the procession reached the center of the huts, greeting him like a long-lost son. He did his best to respond in some way to the flurry of questions sent his way, but the words died in his throat and everything else seemed to fade away when a dark-haired figure, one that had haunted his dreams more nights than he could count, stepped into his line of sight, flashing a dimpled smile in his direction.

Omera.

If it was possible, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. She still wore the same knee-length dress, apron, and leggings all in the distinctive bluish-gray and dark teal of the Sorgani natives, with her dark hair partially pulled back from her face- and it was still enough to make his mouth go dry. He wasn't the type to wax poetic about such things, but seeing her again was like a ray of sunshine bursting through the clouds after days of rain. He was thankful for the buy'ce covering his face that hid his slack-jawed look of awed speechlessness. What was wrong with him?

She slowly closed the distance between them, sunlight glittering in her fathomless brown eyes. "Welcome back."

He mentally shook himself, swallowing hard and focusing on her words. "Thank you. It's good to be back." He turned his head to survey their surroundings, studying the trees, huts, and ponds with more focus than was truly necessary- anything to keep his mind distracted from the intoxicating effect of her nearness. "The village looks good; it's grown a lot. Any more trouble with raiders?"

"Not a single one- thanks to you." The comment brought his gaze crashing back to hers. Big mistake. His heart gave a strange skip in his chest at the wholly trusting expression filling her face. She took a step closer to him, a blush staining her cheeks as her eyes fell to his right pauldron in shy avoidance. She glanced back at his visor as if to gauge his reaction before hesitantly reaching out and brushing light fingers over the mudhorn aliik fused to the beskar plate. "This is new."

"A lot has happened since our last visit," he said simply. The biggest change was still clipped to his belt at his left hip- but now was not the time to tell her that he was the presumed ruler of an entire civilization of people. Eventually he would have to tell her everything though, and the "always prepare for the worst" part of him dreaded how she would react to his story. Would she understand the gravity of the decision he was facing? Would she think less of him when he told her the things he had to do to protect himself, Grogu, and his Tribe?

"So I see." Her smile returned, this time with a hint of teasing as she tipped her chin toward the tattered edge of his cloak draped over the edge of his jetpack. He really needed to replace that thing. "I look forward to hearing all about it later. But for now, you're more than welcome to stay in our barn again if you wish."

"You might have to fight some of the others for the privilege." He glanced over his shoulder at the handful of villagers clustered around Grogu and Winta, entertaining the kid with silly faces and one of them even grabbed a few fruits from a basket on the ground and began juggling for him. The teen wore a predictable look of barely-concealed annoyance, but Grogu chortled and clapped his little hands together in delight. Din turned back in time to see Omera's dismissive shrug.

"I'll just have to tell them I offered first." She held out her hand to him, and after several beats he finally realized she was offering to take his travel bag. He started to object but quickly fell silent at the quirk of her brow and no-nonsense look she sent his way and relinquished the satchel with a sigh of annoyance at himself. Dank farrik. Only two minutes in her presence and already he was putty in her hands. She smirked at his dramatics, clearly pleased with herself for making him comply with so little effort, then called for Winta, who waved Grogu's hand to the others in goodbye before trotting over to where the adults stood. The four of them turned and began the walk across the village to Omera's home.

It didn't take long for Grogu to squirm and fuss in Winta's arms to be let down then predictably toddle off after a blue frog the second his feet hit the grass, the teen a step behind him.

"Looks like some things never change," Omera observed quietly, and Din hummed in agreement, allowing a fond smile to take shape. It was nice seeing his son interacting with other children in such a normal way- no training or fights, just pure, innocent fun. In his head he knew that Grogu understood what the life of a Mando'ad was when he chose to return to Din, but the idealistic father in him, the one rooted in his own peaceful upbringing, still wished at times that he could give his son a life more like this.

He was suddenly aware of her gaze upon him, making him wonder exactly how long he had been lost in his own thoughts and simultaneously preparing himself for the questions he could sense coming.

"What do you hear from Cara these days?"

Okay; not what he was expecting, but still safe. "Not much. She helped capture a high-ranking ex-Imperial officer a while back and now the New Republic's got her on special assignment most of the time." Again, his involvement and winding up with an ancient symbol of rulership on the other side of it was a conversation for another time.

"Well, whenever she's in contact again, tell her to stop for a visit the next time she's in this sector. I know Pasia misses her visits."

Pasia- that was the redhead's name. "I'll see what I can do," he hedged, knowing better than to make promises he might not be able to keep. It was unlikely that Greef still had the channel for Cara's comms- if she even had the same one- but maybe Carson Teva would have a way to pass the message on to her.

Speaking of past acquaintances, Din suddenly realized that there were two faces missing from the crowd who welcomed them and that he still hadn't seen throughout their walk across the village. "Where are Caben and Stoke?"

"They went to town with Jos and Darek for supplies. They'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Who's Jos?" He remembered Darek, a village elder who also functioned as the closest thing they had to a baar'ur, but the other name was a complete mystery to him.

"A newcomer who arrived about eight months ago. He's been a lot of help with maintaining our mechanics. I think the two of you would get along quite well." Her expression shifted slightly, taking on a hint of something he could only describe as coy, as if she held a great secret she was determined not to divulge. Before he had a chance to cajole the information from her they arrived at her hut, the children reappearing at Omera's side. Grogu broke away from Winta almost immediately and scurried toward Din, who knelt to scoop him up and tuck him into the crook of his arm. Despite his time on his own training with the Jetii, it was still common for Grogu to be more clingy after a confrontation, to the point he would scarcely leave Din's side for days if the danger had been great enough. This, however felt different, like he came to Din simply for the feeling of being near his father. Father. The word still sent a surge of warmth through his chest, and he tucked the kid just a little closer into his side.

Omera smiled and ran a finger over the curve of Grou's ear. "Why don't the two of you go get settled? Winta will bring you some blankets, and I'll have supper ready shortly. It won't be anything too elaborate, but I'm sure once the men return they'll insist on a big feast tomorrow night to celebrate your arrival."

"That really isn't necessary-"

She waved away his protest like it was a pesky insect as he took the travel bag from her. "Nonsense. It's been too long since we've had something to celebrate. Besides, I have some new recipes I've been waiting for a special occasion to try out." She threw him a wink before mounting the steps and disappearing inside with her daughter on her heels, leaving Din and his feeble protest outside. He knew a losing battle when he saw one, so he turned with a heavy sigh and started for the barn that sat a stone's throw away from the hut. He wished they wouldn't make a fuss about his arrival; as much as he would like to see and visit with everyone again, the thought of being the center of attention made his palms itch. He had spent the last decade as a solitary hunter whose only use for a crowd was to cover his tracks and disappear- as much as one could while wearing one of the most distinctive styles of armor in the galaxy- and that wasn't something that would change overnight.

Better to start here and now with people you know than with a banquet hall full of politicians who prey on modesty and mistake it for weakness, a soft voice in his head whispered. Consider this your first test.