"This ferry will leave in seven minutes," said F5-62. A series of lights ringing the hull of the ferry lit up.
"We're NOT going back," said Mayfeld. "Just…no."
Din glanced at the control panel of the ferry droid. Was that its…head? "F5-62, can you just wait for our direction?"
"My programming compels me to begin my trip ten minutes upon detecting passengers in order to stay on schedule. Six minutes."
Droids, Din thought. He looked at Mayfeld. Grogu perched on one arm, studying the boat with bright, alert eyes. He had definitely woken up. Burg looked skeptical and Fazzakkaar was silent, shoulders slumped in sorrow. "Look," said Din. "Can we just get on board and go? We can talk on the boat, but can we at least get out of here, regroup?"
"Five minutes," said F5-62.
"That wasn't a minute!" said Din.
"Oh, fine," muttered Mayfeld. Carefully he handed Grogu to his father, then stepped onto the boat. Burg and Fazzakkaar followed. The ferry rocked, probably not used to the weight of Devaronians or Wookies.
"Let's go," said Din.
Nothing happened.
"Departure in three minutes."
"I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but no one else is coming," said Mayfeld. "Are you sure Merrix and Varro don't know this river thing is here?"
"It wasn't on any of the Merrix company maps," said Din. "F5, time to go."
"My programming will not permit me to deviate from my schedule. And my complete designation is F5-62," it responded prissily. "Two minutes."
Unbelievable. "Boat with an attitude," muttered Mayfeld. Din placed Grogu on a bench. The boy walked to the edge and peered over into the dark water.
"Please keep all appendages inside the boat at all times," scolded the ferry-droid. Grogu drew back guiltily.
"Scooch back," said Din. "You know my feelings about water."
"Maybe I should smash you," said Burg, clenching his fist and staring at the control panel. He reached for the panel but a blue spark popped. Burg drew his hand back with a snarl. After seeing Burg withstanding his flamethrower, Din knew that spark might have killed a lesser being. That was…concerning.
"I am programmed to defend myself against interference from unauthorized personnel. Please take your seat and prepare for departure in one minute. On behalf of Crellanian Lines, we appreciate your patronage and hope you have a pleasant journey today."
A chugging, rattling sound came from somewhere in the back of the boat. Then even through his filters Din detected the distinctive oily smell of long-dormant engines coming back to life.
But no movement happened.
"Do you have enough fuel?" asked Din dubiously. Everything of value in this settlement had been stripped long ago.
"I assure you that I do," said F5-62. "As I noted, my programming compels me to defend myself from interference from unauthorized personnel. When the docks were closed, temporarily of course, I did not allow my fuel cells to be taken. I repelled all attempts to strip me for parts. After seeing several of my assailants cease to function, the rest prudently left me alone."
"A psychotic boat with an attitude," said Mayfeld. "Should we stay on this?"
"What other option do we have?"
"It is good to have passengers again," said the ferry cheerily.
With a final chug, the boat began to move. A faint white light shone in front, guiding their way. They moved away from the dock and started on their journey down the river. Din sat and Grogu came to his lap.
"Next stop, Stochi Station."
The boat picked up speed, moving silently through the smooth water. Silence fell.
The long journey in the dark was unnerving. Despite the lights on the boat, the tunnel ceiling above them was barely visible. Perfect blackness stretched in front and in back. It felt like being in deep space without a hull. Din wrapped his arms around the child in his lap, and Grogu welcomed the secure embrace. Gloom settled over them all, and not just because of the oppressive dark and their murderous mode of transportation. The loss of Chahras hung over them like a cloud. While Din had hardly known him, he felt the loss of an ally keenly. Fazzakkaar sat with his head in hands.
After some time, Grogu squirmed restlessly and Din released his grasp. The boy wriggled free and toddled across the bench to Fazzakkaar. He placed one tiny hand tentatively on the Wookie's knee. Fazzakkaar looked up and met the searching dark eyes. Then he inhaled and exhaled slowly, deeply. Din understood that no special power was at work here—it was simply a child responding to grief with kindness.
Actually, perhaps that was a special power.
He was never the same after the Battle of Kashyyk, said Fazzakkaar, in a quiet rumble. He saw too much death. He fell into crime and dishonor. Our matriarch banished him. I was the younger. I tried to turn him away from his path, but instead I followed him. Perhaps it is good, little one, that he died honorably, defending you. It is good that I was able to be with him once more, if only for a little while. Now we may be reunited in the great afterlife with our souls cleansed of sin.
"I owe him, and you, a life debt," said Din. Wookie courtesy demanded this. "For his sacrifice protecting my son." But Fazzakkaar waved his hand.
And I owe you a debt, because they would have tortured me to death back on the transport ship if you had not intervened. These debts cancel each other out. We are bound to each other as comrades. He turned his gaze fully to Din. My human partner has long been missing. His name is Boxer. We stole a yacht but our fence was an undercover New Republic agent. Boxer was sentenced to the chop yards, but he vanished. Think you he is at this Panopticon?
Mayfeld stirred. "Yeah, I know a Boxer, he worked on my floor. Decent guy."
Then I will go with you, Mandalorian, to free him.
"Hold on," said Mayfeld. "We never agreed to anything. We need to focus on just getting off this damn planet. Didn't you say the New Republic is coming to the rescue? Leave it to them. We've done enough."
"I don't know when they're coming or if anyone even got my message," Din said. "The energy shield will be in their way. We have to do what we can."
Mayfeld just shook his head.
"They're going to kill everyone in the Arena," Din reminded him.
Burg just shrugged. "Wow, what a shame," muttered Mayfeld.
Din couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't be serious."
"That bunch of scum tried to kill us! And deliver your kid to the damn Empire!" said Mayfeld. He raised his voice and it echoed throughout the tunnel. Unsettled, they all looked up, then resumed their talk in low voices just above whispers. "I just don't know if I want to risk my life and my chance at getting back to my wife for them." He threw up his hands. "Even if everything works out and the New Republic swoops in and saves the day, what kind of future does anyone have? That guy back at the Arena was right. Get real. Everyone's just going back to the chop fields for the rest of their lives. Don't get me wrong, that was better than this hellhole, but still. And some of these people are just the lowest of the low. Galaxy might be better off without them. Take it from a fellow con."
"They deserve better, no matter what they've done," said Din, and he wondered at the words coming out of his mouth. "They went after us because they were desperate. No one deserves this degrading slavery. No one deserves to be hunted like animals. If people are treated like this, stripped of dignity, how do you expect them to act?"
"Look at you with the speech," muttered Mayfeld.
"Bounty hunters like you put us here," said Burg.
Din was silent, briefly, then said, "I'm not a bounty hunter any more. Not like that, anyway."
"Come ON. Do NOT tell me you feel guilty," said Mayfeld.
"We won't be sure we can get out of here unless we disable that field for good," said Din, ignoring the remark. "And the only way to do that is to destroy the Panopticon." He stared from Mayfeld to Burg. "The Empire is here and they are my enemies. They're YOUR enemies too. They are a threat to my son. I'm stopping them and I'm stopping Merrix and Varro here and now."
"Oh, don't give me that scary Mando stare," said Mayfeld. "I know what you look like under there, pretty boy."
"Really?" asked Burg.
Din stared at Mayfeld even harder.
"You just cannot take a joke, can you?" said Mayfeld.
Fazzakkaar leaned forward. What says the child?
"The BABY does not get a vote," sputtered Mayfeld.
Grogu had watched the entire debate with lively interest. Now he moved back on the bench to stand beside Din and put one hand on his arm. He held his chin up and gazed out at the others with immense dignity, beskar gleaming at the collar of his robe.
"Dat a waaah," said Grogu.
"This is the way," answered Din.
Mayfeld put his face in his hands. "Oh, no."
I will join you, grunted Fazzakkaar. I will free my friend.
"If he's doing it," said Burg, nodding at Grogu, "I'll do it. This I gotta see."
"Oh fine," moaned Mayfeld. "Fine!"
"We will be stopping at Stochi Station in three minutes!" interrupted F5-62.
"No one wants to get off there," said Din. "Keep going to the Mines."
I am programmed for a one-hour layover at Stochi Station," insisted the droid.
"One hour? We can't lose that much time!" Between Mayfeld and the droid, Din really felt ready to smash something. "We don't want to stop and I promise you no one is waiting for us there."
"Two minutes!"
"Unbelievable," said Din.
As promised, in less than two minutes the boat slowed, then stopped, pulling up to another stone and tile dock. Rubble and rusted machinery littered the dock. Old signs with arrows pointed to an exit tunnel blocked completely with stones and broken tile. No other boats were in sight.
They were stuck. And the boat would electrocute them if they tried anything.
"All passengers must disembark. While at Stochi Station, why not enjoy refreshments at Big Azza's Café? Up one level near the refueling station. Please return in fifty minutes for departure."
"F5-62," said Din desperately. "This settlement was abandoned probably seventy-five years ago. The tunnels are blocked. That café is long gone. No one is here. No one will ever be here."
"Please disembark in one minute or I will be forced to activate my self-protection mode."
They had no choice. One by one they clambered out onto the slick, wet dock, the only light coming from the boat. Din heard small scuttling sounds from behind rocks. Grogu's ears twitched. They needed to make a plan, Din knew. But after the tension of the boat ride, through unspoken agreement, they came to crouch or sit on the crumbling benches near the blocked exit to rest and eat. Burg and Fazzakkaar carried a little food and water but not much. Din and Mayfeld shared ration bars and sips from their canteens. Then Din gestured at Grogu to move a little away from the others with him.
"You need to eat," Din said, opening a bar and holding it out to Grogu. But Grogu shook his head and pointed back at Din. "Don't worry, I will." Back turned on the others and partly concealed by a pile of rusted metal, Din lifted his helmet enough to eat the open bar and drink some water. He was still healing from the trauma his body had endured in the Game Room—his arm and his ribs still ached. He needed to keep up his strength so the bacta in his system could continue its work. He held another bar out for Grogu but the boy's attention was elsewhere—he seemed to be listening for something in the rocks. Well, he'd eat when he was ready, that was for sure.
Din went back to join the others and rested on the bench near Mayfeld, one eye on the untrustworthy water. Grogu prowled around the pile of loose stones around the exit.
Suddenly Grogu went very still. His ears tipped down.
A tiny, pale creature like a multi-legged salamander emerged from a crack about five meters away. It had no eyes, just a gaping mouth. Grogu held out one clawed hand, beckoning. Din sat up and focused on what was happening. The small creature walked towards the boy, slowly, reluctantly. It was a meter away when Grogu pounced, if that was even the right word for the lightning-fast movement. One moment Grogu's hand was empty, and the next it gripped the salamander. Quickly he shoved the still wriggling creature down his throat. Then he sighed in satisfaction.
"Good boy! Did you see that?" Din asked Mayfeld excitedly.
"Uh, yeah. Great," said Mayfeld with a grimace.
Din was honestly thrilled at this latest display of Grogu's hunting prowess and self-sufficiency. He was proud of his son's ability to survive in the prison tunnels. The boy had certainly played with—and eaten—plenty of frogs, spiders, and other creatures. But Grogu's skills had clearly grown, because of both his growing mastery of the Force and his own innate nature. Grogu was clearly trying to fend for himself and save the rations for the others, which was both noble and sensible.
Lately Din had been trying his best (mostly successfully) to keep any squeamishness about Grogu's love for extremely fresh meat to himself. The kid was a carnivore, after all—what did you expect? As long as Grogu didn't eat intelligent species or their offspring (including eggs) it was all good.
"Nice work, buddy!" Grogu preened a bit at his father's praise, smoothing his ears with casual nonchalance. Din didn't know much about Grogu's species, but he knew one crucial thing: they were hunters. And, to Din's great satisfaction, so was Grogu. In a galaxy teeming with small creatures, his son would never go hungry.
He thought too about the Jedi master Ahsoka had mentioned. It made sense that Grogu's species would have such great abilities with the Force. Din imagined a tiny people—carnivorous, intelligent, and hungry—living perhaps in swamps or the edges of ponds and lakes. Their lives must have been very hard, living as both predator and prey. They would have to be clever and skillful to survive in a hostile galaxy. They had keen hearing and eyes adapted to the dark. So naturally other powers might evolve, become more advanced so they could defend themselves from larger predators and control the tiny brains of the simple creatures they fed upon.
Both hunter and prey. That sounded familiar.
"He's really improved," marveled Din.
"I'll take your word for it," said Mayfeld.
Fazzakkaar seemed to find the whole display a little distasteful—Wookies after all were among the most refined and well-mannered peoples in the galaxy, with a complex, elegant code of etiquette. But Burg was tickled. He guffawed as Grogu lured and devoured several more hapless amphibians.
"Look at him go! Haw! Can't wait to see what he can do to Imps!"
Grogu's weakness was playing to an audience, so Din decided to put a stop to this before he overate and had an unfortunate incident. "Buddy, that's enough. Remember when we moved into the cabin?" Grogu looked up Din with wide-eyed innocence, but he knew perfectly well what Din was talking about. On their first night in their new home on Nevarro, Grogu had overindulged on the local wildlife, with messy results. Not to mention those damned cookies.
With a burp the boy shuffled over to Din and crawled back in his lap. Soon he dozed off. Mayfeld studied the kid thoughtfully.
"Was the Wookie right?" he asked in a very soft voice. "Is that kid really a Jedi?"
"It's complicated." But that wasn't enough for Mayfeld. He looked bothered.
"Enlighten me. We're kinda stuck here in this waiting room."
Din felt an odd urge to talk. "I met a Jedi who told me he was raised and trained on Coruscant by the Jedi. The Empire attacked their temple and killed them all but he was hidden, somehow. It's not clear what exactly happened." Why was he telling all this to Mayfeld? Din looked down at Grogu—he was hard to rouse from his post-lunch nap and did not seem to be disturbed by the conversation.
"There were always whispers," said Mayfeld. "When I was in the service. Crazy rumors from the old-timers, not that there were many of them left. Wild stories about Jedi."
"I never knew," murmured Din. "I never knew anything about Jedi until I met Grogu just two years ago or so. And even then it was just legends passed down by my people."
"I think they must have kept themselves really under wraps," mused Mayfeld. "Except on a need-to-know basis. And then, you know, the Empire is really, really good at erasing history. Even recent history. That's like their biggest skill. Trust me."
Din only nodded. Mandalorians apparently had that ability as well.
"But here's the thing," continued Mayfeld. "That stuff about the temple. From I gather that was years ago. More than thirty years ago, maybe?" He studied the boy. "Was he really there? He's just a kid."
"His species lives for hundreds of years. Lots of species age differently. Those Wookies are probably twice our age."
"I know, but what happened to him all that time?"
And there, plainly spoken aloud, was the question that Din couldn't bear thinking about. He remembered the words from his vision in the Game Room. After his many cruel years in darkness…
Din had first found Grogu shoved in a corner, clearly just considered nothing more than a valuable object. And that's what I thought at first, thought Din with bitter self-loathing. He must have been passed around by one unsavory group after another, neglected at best, at worst mistreated if not abused outright. Probably in a constant state of fear, suffering from grief and loneliness. Maybe even hunger and pain.
For years. For years.
It explained so much about Grogu—why he hid his abilities and intelligence, why he was slow to speak, why he seemed even younger than maybe he should.
Helpless, impotent rage gripped Din, so powerful it sickened him. But who was there to fight? This was why he tried not to think about his son suffering alone all that time. There was nothing to do for both of them but to go forward, to forget. Wasn't that what Din himself had always tried to do?
"I don't really know," Din managed. "He can't remember. He can't tell me." He wanted to stop talking now. But Mayfeld kept talking.
"Well, if it was the Empire involved, nothing good. I bet he'll tell you eventually, one way or another. It's like poor Winta. You know she wakes up with nightmares about those raiders, still? About once a week."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Din, dismayed. "I didn't know." Why should he know?
"Yeah, well, I'm glad you and Dune got those fuckers. Omera sits with Winta until she gets back to sleep. Lately she's been letting me join her, the kid likes us both with her, I guess. I don't know what to say but Omera says it's good just to sit there. I mean…I mean this was before I got arrested and all this shit. I wonder how she's doing now." Mayfeld trailed off and looked away.
The two accidental fathers sat together in somber silence, Grogu snoring.
"This ferry will depart in ten minutes," announced F5-62. "Please proceed with boarding."
"Let's go. Let's get these assholes," said Mayfeld brusquely, getting to his feet. Din rose as well, as did Burg and Fazzakkaar.
"We will," said Din. He couldn't do much but be the best father possible. Like Mayfeld. To think I would be commiserating about fatherhood with Migs Mayfeld of all people. And he could fight the Empire. He could fight Varro and her tool, Merrix.
Grogu opened his eyes as Din carried him onto the boat. He began to squirm wildly and point at the water.
"What?" asked Din in alarm. "Something's there, in the river?" Grogu nodded vigorously. I just knew it. "If he says something's down there, he's right," he told the others. Weapons drawn, they all faced the water. At least they had spare blasters for Burg and Fazzakkaar now, even though they weren't ideal weapons for such huge hands.
"Seven minutes until departure," said F5-62.
"Hey, F5-62," said Mayfeld. "I think we can get going now."
"I may not deviate from my schedule," replied the ferry.
"What's down there, anyway?" rumbled Burg.
The ferry perked up. "While on Riello 6, why not learn about the local wildlife? Visit the Stochi Regional Park Nature Center, just one level up."
"F5-62, just tell us!" said Din. Grogu squirmed some more, as if he wanted down. "No way, buddy."
"The underground river systems of Riello 6 are home to many fascinating forms of amphibious life. Of particular interest are the eyeless river salamanders. You may have noticed them in their small, immature form on the docks. As they reach breeding maturity, females enter the water and become permanently attached to the river bed, developing feeder tentacles."
Was that a ripple in the water?
"How big are they?" asked Din.
"Ferry maintenance crews take care to remove any attached salamanders so they do not interfere with ferry operations. If not for this maintenance, full-grown eyeless river salamanders may grow up to six or seven meters."
The ripples grew. Fazzakkaar growled. "Oh shit," breathed Mayfeld. They all trained their weapons on the water, which now seethed around the ferry.
"Five minutes until departure."
"F5-62…" began Din.
At that moment a sinuous, white tentacle reached from above. It wrapped itself around Mayfeld's waist and pulled him up and off the boat. His blaster clattered to the bottom of the ferry. Understandably Mayfeld screamed.
"However, mature males attach themselves to the cavern roof above the river," continued the ferry.
Din looked up and saw a nightmare. A vast, slimy, living mass of flesh, vaguely salamander-shaped, clung to the tiled roof above the river. A wide mouth gaped, ring by an irregular array of tentacles. Mayfeld's arms were pinned to his sides, keeping him from his other blasters.
"KILL IT KILL IT!" he yelled. The creature seemed to be struggling with Mayfeld's weight, but did not release its grip when Burg hit it with blaster fire.
"They hibernate unless reproducing or feeding," said F5-62 helpfully. "They typically position themselves one above the other so they can catch prey more efficiently in a net of feeding tentacles. How fortunate we are to encounter a breeding pair!"
Din had only got off one shot when a ringing blow landed on the side of his helmet, then another. A tentacle from the water had struck him like a massive fist. His hold on Grogu loosened. Another, more slender tentacle wrapped around Grogu's chest and yanked him out of Din's arms. The child shrieked in surprise and terror. Fazzakkaar and Burg were fighting off more tentacles reaching from above and below. Head ringing, Din activated the flamethrower on the tentacle attacking him. A smell like roasted flesh, and it recoiled away, shriveled and ruined. But Grogu was still trapped.
"Four minutes!"
Fazzakkaar bellowed and with bare hands ripped apart a tentacle attempting to seize his neck. Blaster fire echoed through the tunnel, but the creatures themselves were silent. Din drew his blade and slashed at the tentacle pulling Grogu toward the water, again and again, until he severed it completely. But to Din's horror the severed tentacle landed in the water still gripping his son. He readied himself to dive. But a split second before Din's feet left the boat, something leapt from the water and onto the ferry next to Din. It was Grogu, but the severed tentacle was still squeezing him. His eyes were round and panicky. Din hacked and stabbed the tentacle while Grogu struggled. At last it uncurled and Grogu rolled away, panting.
Meanwhile Burg had kept firing on the creature while Fazzakkaar swatted away tentacles but Mayfeld was still out of reach, tight in the thing's grip.
"IT'S GONNA SQUEEZE ME IN HALF, GET IT OFF ME GET IT THE FUCK OFF!"
But Din was busy fending off the female creature underwater as more tentacles emerged. Grogu had regained his equilibrium and jumped up on a bench. He raised his hands toward the creature above, his eyes narrowing in concentration. All of the tentacles attacking them froze. Grogu frowned. Din could only watch. Was Grogu able to control this animal enough to have it release Mayfeld? The tentacle holding him loosened a little, but not enough. The boy frowned some more.
Then the tentacle holding Mayfeld simply snapped and burst apart. Mayfeld dropped with a yell onto the ferry.
Oh. Well. That would work too.
"F5-62," said Din, "Get us away from here!"
"Departure is in three minutes. I may not deviate from my schedule."
Grogu slumped down, spent. The tentacles began to writhe again. "These animals will prevent you from staying on schedule," said Din through gritted teeth. "They are about to commit unauthorized interference."
A pause, and then blue bolts shot from the ferry, hitting the creature above. The water around them boiled. The creatures made a horrible whistling scream and retracted their tentacles. The ferry's engines started.
Then, at last, they were on their way.
They all just sat, panting and stunned. Shreds of salamander flesh littered the boat.
"I knew it," said Din. Grogu picked up a piece of tentacle and opened his mouth. "NO." Grogu set it down guiltily.
"Why in the shit," said Mayfeld, getting his breath back. "Why in the SHIT didn't you do that at the beginning, you fucking piece of junk?!"
"Next stop, the mines!" said the ferry, as if nothing had happened.
"Next stop, the prison," said Din. Mayfeld just groaned.