* Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcomed.
Trask
They landed safely on Trask, although that was putting it lightly. Unfortunately, due to its current state, the Razor Crest malfunctioned at the last second. It resulted in them landing in the ocean and being submerged. They were lifted up and out thanks to the help of the local shipwrights, but it was no less jarring. Well, jarring for everyone except the Child, who simply stared at all the water rushing off the windshield with vague interest.
The cockpit was dry, save for a few leaks. However, the hull had been flooded. Some things down there were locked up tight and stayed dry, though, including the inside of the pram. Din placed the Child inside it, and they left through the side entrance. On their way out, they passed the satchel, which was hanging on its hook and soaked with sea water. That was one of the things that had to be left behind today, including the silver ball which needed to remain attached to the gear shift for the time being, just until repairs were finished.
Din never spent much time on Trask. He preferred the open skies, as opposed to unknown waters. Din looked around, observing everything. Everyone on these docks regarded each other with suspicious looks, and chatter was filled with deal-making. It was too early to tell just how lawless this place was, but Din could make assumptions.
Still, in a rather morbid way, he was in his element here. During all his years of bounty hunting, he was used to places like these. Although, that didn't stop him from pressing a button on his gauntlet, programming the pram to hover directly behind him or right next to him.
The Child noticed this and his ears twitched confusedly. He babbled as he looked up at him.
In response, as a reminder, Din pointed to the control panel on the outside of the pram, specifically the button that could close the doors. He made sure that the Child was watching before taking his hand away. The Child hummed thoughtfully, and glanced around closely at their surroundings.
They stopped for a while, so that the Frog Lady could get her bearings. She eventually spotted her husband, and the two reunited. They all but collapsed against each other, chattering and murmuring as they looked at their eggs.
When Din approached, the husband thanked him. Din brought up the reason why he was here, and the husband led all of them to a local inn and restaurant. This worked out perfectly, given how hungry the Child was. On their way to Trask, food ran out an hour ago, which resulted in the Child either grumbling or napping, no in between. There might be more food stashed away in the hull of his ship, but he would look later.
It was at the restaurant that Din was pushed in the right direction for finding other Mandalorians, or at least others who wore beskar. It was vague, but it was better than nothing. At least, that's what Din justified it as.
A Quarren sat down at their table, his words slow but not lazy, and eyeing him sideways the entire conversation. He was saying that he'd seen other Mandalorians, and was willing to bring Din to them, but not for free.
"What do you want," Din asked.
"We can talk about that once we set sail." He pushed away from the table. "We leave in-"
"We can talk about that now."
He shrugged, but didn't sit back down. "Fine. I, uh, never say no to credits. Unless someone's got something more valuable to offer."
Din tossed some money on the table. Without even looking at the amount, the Quarren snatched it and pocketed it. Din's eyes narrowed at this.
"Let's call that a deposit," the Quarren said. "I got a fishing boat at the end of the farthest dock. You got one hour to show up there, before we set sail." He looked at the Child, who was staring curiously up at him. "You don't need to bring that thing along."
Din's tone was clipped. "He's not your concern."
"Suit yourself," he grumbled, and walked out of the restaurant.
The Child cooed with concern, and looked at Din.
"Yeah," Din muttered to him. "I know."
According to the Quarren, it would be a few hours until they reached their destination, which only served to heighten Din's suspicions. He walked across the gangplank and onto the boat, the Child following closely.
The Quarren from the restaurant noticed him and gave him a welcoming wave that also managed to be extremely curt. "I gotta help my men so we can get outa the harbor," he explained. He yet again glanced at the Child, but this time it was with a look and a hum of interest.
The Child's ears lowered.
Din took a single step in front of the pram, until his face was inches away from the Quarren's.
It seemed he had enough sense to not look directly at the visor. He showed his palms. "I just wasn't sure if you were actually gonna bring him. That's all. The more the merrier, and all that. You two, uh, make yourselves at home."
Din unclenched his jaw, though it took effort. He had to play nice until they took him to other Mandalorians, and it wasn't like anyone had threatened them. "I don't know much about sailing," Din said. "But I'm not one to sit idle. I can help." He paused purposefully. "And you did say I owed you more. This can settle our deal."
The Quarren only chuckled. "Our guests don't lift a finger." Without another word, he walked away, almost bumping his shoulder into Din's.
A few other Quarrens walked by at that moment, and Din watched as they dragged the gangplank away. The boat's engine was a dull roar once started. Soon, they began drifting away from the dock. Din exhaled slowly, and raised his gauntlet. He pressed the same button as earlier, until the pram was almost bumping into him. This time, the Child didn't question it whatsoever.
They stuck to the edges of the boat, keeping out of everyone's way for the time being, until the activity died down. The crew were busy getting the ship out of the harbor. Once they were out in open water, with the harbor fading in the distance, Din wandered around to get a better look at everything. It was a standard fishing boat, with barrels, cargo, lines, and netting. At the center of the deck was a large pool covered by a heavy and durable metal grate.
For a brief time, rain scattered over them with slow and heavy drops. The Child mumbled and shook his head a little, flinging the rain from his ears. Seeing that he wasn't going to close the doors, Din draped his cape over the pram, partially covering it to keep the Child dry. It also acted as a wind-breaker. The rain had caused the temperature to drop a few degrees.
At some point, his cape shifted. The Child had moved it out of the way a little. His face was tipped towards the sky, mouth open and catching falling drops.
They reached the other end of the boat, where a Quarren was ladling fresh water out of a barrel.
Din asked, "Can the Child have some of that?"
The Quarren scowled at them. "What for," he asked, and he took a large swig of water until some of it dripped down his face. "There's water in the ocean, and now it's falling from the sky. Take your pick."
Din jabbed his finger towards the barrel. "I pick that. Or am I supposed to ask nicely?" The sarcasm was not intentional. But the Quarren clearly didn't think that giving water to a child was important, and that agitated Din.
The Quarren's eyes narrowed, until a call from the upper deck told him to be courteous to their guests. With an aggravated sigh, he scooped some water out and handed it to Din. "That runt of yours better not spill any," he grumbled.
Din merely shook his head, letting the comment roll off him as he held the rim of the ladle to the Child's mouth. He sipped it just as the rain was stopping. He cooed, staring up at the sky, almost in disappointment.
Din set the ladle back on the barrel.
The Quarren tilted his head. "None for you?"
Din shook his head, and pushed his cape off the pram. "The helmet stays on." And he walked away.
His gut instinct told him to take another lap around the deck. He did so slowly, with the air of a passenger who was calm yet bored and needed something to do.
"Hey, you with the beskar," one of the crew called. "Watch your step! We need to move that!"
Din was currently standing on top of the grating above the pool, and he did as instructed.
"Thanks, beskar," they called again, their voice a mocking lilt that caused him to scowl.
He and the Child went over to the railing to watch the waves. Due to the rain, the seas had turned choppy. A small wave hit the side of the boat, spraying sea foam upward. The Child squealed excitedly. He tried reaching his hand over the railing, but Din stopped him, little claws colliding lightly with his palm. Din didn't want his curious nature to send him overboard. With only a slight mumble, the Child sat back down in his pram.
One of the Quarrens approached him, harpoon in hand, asking Din if he ever saw a mamacore eat. Apparently, that's what the pool was for. Din knew what mamacores were – carnivorous creatures – but he had never seen one. They preferred extremely deep waters, and very few that encountered them lived to tell about it.
Din ignored the Quarren, not sure what the point of seeing it was, or what it had to do with finding other Mandalorians.
"The child might take an interest," the Quarren suggested.
Din's fingers flexed next to his holster.
From beside him, the Child cooed, and Din paused thoughtfully. Full grown adult mamacores weren't known for going out of the water, so the danger here was minimal, provided they kept their distance. Also, he knew that the Child had been bored on the Razor Crest the last few days.
"You should take a look," the Quarren coaxed Din, who finally looked at him and followed. "Come on over here. Get a good view. Let the kid see it."
That's when Din noticed that most of the cargo and supplies were pushed away from the pool, and had been like that for the entire voyage. "Alright," Din said. "Close enough." He stopped him and the Child about a foot or two away from the edge.
The grate slid away, and a net full of fish was dangled over the pool. It was difficult to tell how deep the water was. Did this pool stop at the bottom of the ship, or was it a hole that led straight to the bottom of the ocean?
The fish were released into the pool. A moment later, bubbles formed on the surface of the water.
"She must be hungry," the Quarren commented, and he continued nattering away about their feeding routine with the creature. Din was cautiously focused on the water.
The Quarren took that moment's distraction by swinging the harpoon.
It slammed into the back of the pram, sending it into the water. Upon hitting the surface, the Child gave a startled grunt.
"No!" Din shouted. For an entire shameful second – and a second was all it took – fear paralyzed him.
A mouth lined with fangs surrounded the Child, swallowing him whole. The mamacore dived back beneath the surface, taking the Child with it.
Din let that fear fuel his adrenaline, and he dove in. The water was murky, grey, almost like a swamp. Once down there he couldn't see a thing, let alone know which direction to go in. He tried to activate the thermal imaging, but it must've shorted.
Most Mandalorian helmets were equipped to handle underwater conditions. This included his, but only to a certain degree. The type of pressurization in his helmet could only handle it for a few short minutes, until water started to trickle in.
His nose and mouth were being covered. He swam back up to the surface, only for his hands to grab onto the grating. For him to get adequate air, he needed more clearance than this. His helmet was flooding. Harpoons and spears stabbed at him, and he heard someone mention his beskar and how rich they were going to be.
He lost his grip on the grating, and plunged back down, until his survival instincts told him to try again. The water wouldn't drain out of his helmet, his clothing was soaked through, and his own armor was starting to way him down.
The weapons returned, throwing everything they had at him. His heart hammered against his chest. It wasn't the lack of oxygen that was getting to him. It was the fear returning. Cold and heart-wrenching terror that threatened to rip him apart at any moment.
The Child, his foundling, someone he was supposed to protect with his life, had been eaten in front of his eyes.
He'd been too late to stop it from happening. But he swore he saw the doors of the pram close before he dove in. If that had simply been a trick of his mind, he had no idea what he was going to do.
From somewhere above, just beyond the grating, a black visor on a pale blue helmet appeared.
The weapons stopped their assault. Multiple jetpacks roared. Punches and kicks were thrown. The crew were tossed about like sandbags.
With his remaining strength, Din grasped the grating, forcing his neck at an awkward angle so the water could slowly drain from his helmet. He coughed and gasped for air.
The pale blue helmet returned, and surrounding the visor was a distinct splash of faded white. The Mandalorian leaned over the pool as the grating slid away. "Take my hand," she said.
Din was still gasping for breath, and spots in his vision were coming and going. If these Mandalorians had better technology in their helmets, he hoped they would help. "There's a creature," he wheezed as she helped him out of the pool. "It has the Child."
"On it," one of the other Mandalorians said, and Din heard a loud splash.
"The Child," Din coughed desperately as they helped him sit down. "Help the Child."
That's when the mamacore started to scream.
Blasts were heard.
Din could just barely see the light of a blaster flickering on the surface of the water. Then, silence fell, until all that could be heard was Din's panting. Though his senses were returning to normal, his heart never slowed.
A Mandalorian shot out of the water, up into the air, holding something metal and deformed. She landed next to Din. His heart almost stopped. The pram's doors had been crushed inward, almost flattened. As soon as it was placed beside him, she was ripping one of the doors off. She reached inside the pram.
The coo that Din heard was small and confused, and dank farrik if it wasn't the most amazing sound in the universe.
Din was mechanically reaching towards him, his fingers twitching. He immediately placed the Child in the crook of his elbow. His words had failed him minutes ago, lodged somewhere in his throat, and he didn't have the energy whatsoever to search for them. Gently, he checked the Child over, to reassure himself that he was awake and breathing. Alive.
The Child looked up at him blinking slowly, fatigued, disoriented. And unharmed.
For a moment, Din looked up at his fellow Mandalorians, and thanked them. The Child tried to snuggle against him, resulting in crushing his own ear against his arm. Din moved him a little higher, towards his shoulder. As he explained to the other Mandalorians what his mission was, all his focus was on the Child.
He heard the pressurized hiss of multiple helmets, causing him to cease talking and look up.
Even the Child gave a coo of surprise.
...They willingly removed their helmets. What the hell would compel them to do that?!
Din listened to Bo-Katan. She had convinced him in just a few sentences that their beskar armor did in fact belong to them. But these weren't his people. They did not follow the Way. As far as he was concerned, they were not Mandalorian.
He wrapped the Child in a section of his cape to stave off the cold. Activating his jetpack, he flew away into the evening sky, leaving the apostates behind.
Din only had the strength to make minor adjustments, too fatigued for much maneuvering as he flew in the direction of the harbor, which was currently a sliver of land in the distance. In order to fly forward, he had to keep his legs and feet behind him, but he couldn't hold that position for much longer.
He spotted another fishing vessel, this one smaller and with only two crew members. Specifically two Mon Calamari, who were busy mending their nets. They stopped what they were doing to watch Din coming aboard. His boots hit the deck with a thud as he stumbled forward. Involuntarily, he clutched the Child tighter to avoid dropping him.
He panted, and looked at the sailors. "Can we rest here for a moment," he asked them.
The sailors looked at each other with trepidation, but no animosity. One of them shrugged. "We won't hassle you, but nothing in life is free."
Din nodded, dug out some spare credits hidden in the bottom of an ammo bag and handed them over. At first, they refused. "We don't care much for credits, what with other currency around."
"Oh, come on," the other sailor said. "Just last week we coulda used these. You remember? That cantina south of here?"
After a moment, he shrugged. "Well…Alright." He looked at Din. "But don't linger."
Din nodded again and sat heavily on a cargo box. After affording himself several minutes of respite, his lungs no longer burned and his muscles no longer felt like giving out.
His chest still ached, though. It was what could've happened, what almost happened-
There was a concerned murmur, and small hands pushed against his chest. Din had realized how tense his grip had been, and he let the Child lean back. "Sorry, kid," he apologized.
The Child babbled, tilting his head at him.
Din took a steadying breath. The Child was alive, he reminded himself. Completely unscathed somehow. They were both alive. And safe.
…His foundling was safe.
And his heart rate finally slowed.
Saltwater stung at Din's eyes, and he blinked against it.
He held the Child against his shoulder, and he felt tiny claws gripping the pauldron in turn. "Aw, kid," he exhaled. "I'm so sorry. That won't happen again."
He was apologizing for so many things. The boat, the mamacore, the pram's destruction. The way he saw it, he had failed him today.
The Child cooed, burying his face in the cape still wrapped around him, claws clinging to Din.
Bo-Katan and her friends not only saved their lives on that boat, but they did so again upon returning to the docks at nightfall. They were not Mandalorian. They were not family, but without them, he and the Child might not be alive. Din was loyal to the Way, but he was always humble when people would go out of their way to help him. So, he sat down with them at the local cantina, and heard them out.
Trask had problems. Specifically, major Imperial problems. This included the transportation of Mandalorian objects and weapons. They went to the docks, sat atop the Razor Crest, and observed the Imperial freighter. The one they were going to plunder. Bo-Katan needed help, and she drove a hard bargain. If Din helped her, she would tell him where to find Jedi.
The freighter was in the process of being loaded, which meant they had until morning. When Bo-Katan and her friends left, Din and the Child went down into the hull of the Razor Crest to get some sleep. They woke up well before dawn, as Din wanted a couple hours to prepare.
Breakfast for him and the Child needed to be sorted out first. Amazingly, the remaining storage container that held food was still intact. Knowing that a battle would be inevitable, he ate something light. He gave the Child a larger portion, and also left the container open if he wanted more.
Din stood up, needing to find a tool kit for his armor. He had to fix the short in his helmet. Eventually, he heard a worried mumble, and turned around. The Child was looking around the hull of the ship, at all the loose wires, crunched metal, and just how disarrayed everything looked.
Din sighed heavily. "Yeah. I know, kid. Hopefully those shipwrights can fix it up."
"So what happened?"
At the sound of the new voice, Din spun around to face the side entrance. Bo-Katan was standing in the threshold, helmet tucked beneath her arm.
"To your ship," she concluded.
Din shrugged. "Took a few wrong turns on the way here."
She huffed, grinning slightly, but without any humor. "I think we've all had a few of those at some point." She paused. "Me and my friends are gonna find breakfast. You in?"
Din shook his head. "We just ate."
"Can I at least come in," she asked respectfully.
Din nodded once. He didn't like having strangers on his ship, much less those who claimed to be Mandalorian. But he saw no harm in it, and watched her closely.
She walked around the Child, who cooed and waved at her. She chuckled amusedly, and waved back. She walked past the weapons locker which was partially crushed and opened. She paused nearby, in front of the sleeping quarters, noticing the hammock inside. Then, she walked to the other end of the hull, to the carbon-freezing chamber. The chamber had been powered down ages ago, unused.
"Dank farrik," she muttered. "Whatever mess you got yourself into, this place sure took a beating." She looked at Din. "So, a bounty hunter?"
He was about to reply with a yes, but he realized…When was the last time he pursued a bounty?
While she continued to silently inspect everything, Din decided now was as good a time as any to fix the short. It was a simple fix, given that the mechanism was located on the outside of his helmet. He brought out the necessary tool. It would be easier to take his helmet off first, but he could make do, feeling around with just his fingers.
He could feel Bo-Katan's eyes. "What," he asked neutrally.
"Did the mamacore damage something," she asked.
"No," he responded. "It was the water."
There was a pause from her. "…And you can repair it without taking the helmet off?"
"Yes."
She blew out a puff of air. "That's…actually pretty impressive."
His eyes narrowed, though she couldn't see it. "And yet you think it's odd."
"I think it's unnecessary. But who am I to tell you otherwise?"
Din tossed the tool back in the box, and looked at Bo-Katan. She was sitting down a few feet away, helmet in her lap and leaning her back against the wall. Testing out the repair, he activated and deactivated the thermal imaging. Everything worked fine.
Bo-Katan raised a brow at him. "So? Is your helmet still intact?"
"Seems like it," he said. Then, a thought came to mind. "Do your helmets allow you to breathe underwater? Mine can only handle so much before it gets waterlogged."
She frowned. "Ours aren't waterproof, much as we want them to be on a planet like this. But most of the electrical components in them are protected. We created a seal that forms around it."
He tilted his head, intrigued. "Do you have an armorer in your covert?"
"Most of us are craftsman by necessity," she answered vaguely.
"I take it there are more than three of you."
She paused. "Depends on how you look at it." Before Din could respond to that, she nodded for him to come over. "Come on. I'll show you the seals."
Cautiously, he pulled up a cargo box and sat next to her, allowing her to show him. While she did, he peered at the inside of her helmet, which was roughly the same as the inside of his. As it turned out, the pressurization was a bit different, allowing for a few extra seconds of oxygen when under water. And she showed him how to modify that.
"So," she said, resting her crossed arms over the top of her helmet. "Ready to be a pirate for the day?" He scoffed, causing her to smirk. "Oh, come on. At least we won't be bored."
"I'd rather be on my way," Din said. "But this is Mandalorian related. You need help, and I gave you my word." He paused. "So long as you uphold your end."
She nodded once, determinedly. "We take care of that ship, and you'll have no problems from me."
"Good."
Bo-Katan opened her mouth to say something, until a clatter interrupted them. The Child had dropped his bowl on the floor, and was now munching away on a biscuit. He used to not like biscuits. The first few he'd tried were bland and stale. Until Din eventually found ones that were sweetened. Din stood, retrieved the bowl, and set it on a shelf.
Bo-Katan leaned towards the Child with curiosity. "I've been meaning to ask. Where did he come from?"
"It's complicated," Din said, leaning against the wall, next to the satchel. "He was a bounty. And now he's not."
Her eyes narrowed. "What soulless bastard puts a bounty on a child?"
Din only exhaled, mainly to get rid of some old apprehension. To this day, he still had no idea what the Empire had wanted with the Child. Quite frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. When he rescued him from the client, he vividly remembered him being strapped to a table and a machine. It looked like they were experimenting, or extracting something from him. However, he didn't stick around to ask questions, needing to get the Child out of there.
At least that was all behind them now.
Bo-Katan moved onto something else. She waved vaguely at her own shoulder. "That signet you have. Do you refer to yourself as Clan Mudhorn?" It was a genuine question, but suspicion caused Din to be silent again. In turn, she showed him one of her palms as a sign of peace. "I'm just getting to know you. That's all. I want to know who I'm raiding the Imperials with. Wouldn't you?"
"No," he said gruffly. "After our deal comes to an end, we part ways as if we never saw each other."
Her mouth was a thin line. "Suit yourself. But at least you're honest."
The Child babbled, holding up the biscuit wrapper.
Din took it from him and tossed it in an empty bin. He placed a hand on the storage container, taking a mental note of how much food they still had left. It wasn't much, unfortunately.
"Do you want anymore," Din asked the Child, his voice softer, as opposed to the way he was just speaking to their guest.
The Child burped, looked away, and played with the crumbs on his fingers. Din closed the lid, pushed the container back against the wall, and sat down next to the Child.
Bo-Katan frowned. "Please tell me you're not going to bring him with us today."
Din sighed heavily, having already thought about this late last night, when sleep was eluding him for the first hour. He shook his head "I won't," he said, trying to mask the reluctance in his voice. "It would be too easy for him to get hurt."
Even if the pram hadn't been destroyed, and even if the satchel itself was armored, he couldn't justify bringing the Child on this mission. It wouldn't be safe whatsoever. On top of it all, they were dealing with Imperials. Though they no longer pursued the Child, Din still didn't want them anywhere near him.
"Can he be left alone," she asked.
"No," he said. "But I know who I can leave him with."
Probably out of boredom, the Child grabbed Din's cape. He giggled mischievously as he covered his head with it. He did this a couple days prior with the satchel in a similar way. Din wasn't quite sure why the Child found it so fun, but he saw no reason to stop him.
Bo-Katan chuckled at his antics. "What is he doing?"
Instead of answering her question, he said, "I know I've already said it before, but thank you. Your clan saved his life."
"We saw that you needed help," she said. "We didn't hesitate. That's what Mandalorians do for each other."
Din didn't respond to that. The Child continued to play with the cape, until he eventually paused to smile up at him. Then, he flopped sideways, and rolled in order to be wrapped in it.
Bo-Katan leaned forward again. "He's not just a mission or a quest to you."
Din shook his head instantly. "No. He's a foundling." He stared at Bo-Katan, unsure if she even knew the gravity of the word.
She nodded once. "Specifically, your foundling." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," he confirmed, though he thought that went without saying. "Until I bring him to the Jedi, by Creed, he is in my care and under my protection."
She raised a brow. "So jumping into dangerous waters to save his life, without a single thought of your own…That was by Creed." Once again, it wasn't question. In fact, it nearly sounded condescending, as if he was missing something obvious.
From beneath his helmet, Din glared at her. Whatever Mandalorian she claimed to be, how could she possibly know the lengths that another Mandalorian would go to keep their foundling safe? "I don't expect you to understand."
When he said that, Bo-Katan glanced at the storage container of food, then towards the Child, and then at Din. A half-smile appeared on her face. She huffed amusedly, once again as if she saw something that he didn't.
"What," Din asked.
"I think I understand it more than you do," she said.
This caused his glare to deepen. What the hell did that even mean?
She stood up and walked towards the exit. "We wait until the freighter has lifted off. And then we move." She walked out the side entrance, her boots fading down the ramp.
Din sighed heavily. "What the hell have I gotten myself into, kid?" He looked down to see that the Child was burying his face against the cape. Bemused, Din observed him. The kid's eyes were closed, and he was trilling contentedly. Perhaps he felt safe, like how Din used to swaddle him in the blue blanket.
Unfortunately, Din would have to stop his fun soon. Dawn was peaking over the horizon. "Almost time to go," he explained. "I'm gonna have the Frog Lady and her husband look after you while-" The realization caught in his throat.
For several weeks now, the Child had gone with him wherever he went. When situations got tough, he made sure that the pram's doors were shut tight. He could see him and check in on him whenever he wanted to. Today, the Child wouldn't be by his side.
But he couldn't change his mind on this. After all, this mission could possibly give him a lead to finding a Jedi. So long as these other Mandalorians had honor.
Din exhaled, and got back on track. "Do you want to eat something else before we leave?" He didn't anticipate being separated from the Child for more than a few hours. And given how nurturing the Frog Lady seemed, it was doubtful he would go hungry. Still, best to be proactive, given the kid's recent ravenous appetite.
The Child pushed the cape away from his face, and he tilted his head questioningly at him. Then, he stood up. Grasping the cape with both hands, he held it up in the air, standing on his tiptoes, as tall as he could manage.
Din took it from him, though he wasn't sure what the Child wanted him to do with it. Shrugging to himself, he held the cape above his ears, and opened his hand. The cape fell from his grasp, landing over the Child until he was completely hidden.
There was a pause.
Until a series of giggles erupted from underneath the cape.
From beneath his helmet, Din felt the corners of his mouth almost turned upward.