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The Silver Ball

As it turned out, Tython was a long way off. It was tucked between various other planets of the Outer Rim, practically hiding in plain sight. They used hyperspace minimally, knowing that traversal would get dicier the closer they got. In between asteroid fields and clusters of planets, Din would activate autopilot, allowing for resting and sleeping during those times.

These interludes were much needed, but they couldn't last, given everything reality had thrown at them so far. Still, there was no rush as far as Din was concerned. Though they were still being pursued by the Empire, his radars and maps told him that they were the only ones in this corner of the start system. It was extremely quiet out here. Also, thanks to Ahsoka, they yet again had a solid destination. His quest remained the same, but they could take their time getting there.

Currently, he and Grogu were both in the cockpit, with the stars lazily gliding past.

Din activated autopilot once more. This sequence took a little extra time than usual. The mechanics on Nevarro had done an excellent job, but it was one of the things on the ship that was still noticeably sluggish. He couldn't complain too much, he supposed. His ship was still as resilient as ever.

"Alright," Din said. "We'll be seeing Tython any minute now. Should be smooth-sailing from here on out." When the last switch was hit, he heard a whine from the passenger seat. When he looked back, Grogu was staring at him, ears drooped, head tilted to one side. Din tilted his head at him in return. "What," he asked.

Grogu looked away and pointed in the direction of the console. Or was he pointing at the windshield?

That's when Din saw the gear shift, bereft of the knob. He realized he'd never reattached it to the console. He reached into an ammo bag on his belt, bringing out the little silver ball. For a moment, he analyzed at it, rolling it around over his fingers, still a little perplexed as to why it was so important to Grogu.

Din shifted in his chair to lean closer to him. He opened his palm, holding the ball out for him to take. Grogu had still been staring out the windshield, ahead of them. When he noticed what Din had, his ears perked up, but only a little. And a surprised but happy noise bubbled out of him. Din had assumed that this was what he wanted, but he only seemed a slightly enthused.

Still, Grogu took it from him with little hesitation. His ears gradually relaxed, but remained pointed to the sides. Turning the ball in his hands, he very soon emitted a contented trill.

Din noted that something might've been bothering him, and it clearly had nothing to do with the silver ball. He didn't think it had anything to do with Tython, given its connection to the Force. Whatever it was, at the very least, the kid seemed to have forgotten his worry for the time being.

While Grogu had something to do, Din ran some scans over the various monitors in front of him. He analyzed their destination as best he could from this distance. There didn't seem to be much life on Tython, which unfortunately made sense if there were very few Jedi left in the universe.

Din exhaled harshly, tensely. He couldn't help but wonder how many Mandalorians were left, with the loss of his covert still trying to take over his nightmares months later. And what about Grogu? It seemed that that Jedi weren't a species. Like Mandalorians, it was a title. Was it possible that Grogu was the last of his kind? Din could only speculate.

By this point, Grogu's trills had gotten louder and filled the cockpit. The kid's focus was now completely fixated on the ball. Even Din had to admit how adorable the sight was, and he let go of his grief for the time being. He watched him play with the ball, of which had been his favorite toy from the very beginning. It was incredible, Din thought, how something so small could hold so much significance.

From beneath his helmet, Din's smile was gentle. Grogu. The kid had a name. And he could use it now. "Grogu," he said.

The kid stopped playing, looking up at Din and momentarily forgetting about the ball. The coo he made was unique to almost all the others he'd ever made, an endearing question.

Din chuckled softly.

It was quite possible that no one else had ever heard him laugh before, at least not since he was a child himself. He might've laughed in front of IG-11, but that had been more of a humorless scoff than anything. This, though, was a genuine chuckle that left his lungs feeling lighter, and one that he had no problem reserving for a moment like this. He had no problem with Grogu hearing it.

Grogu's attention span made him focus on the ball again, his nails clacking lightly over its metal surface.

Din couldn't help himself, and his tone turned playful. "Grogu?"

Again, Grogu looked up at him, his ears perking almost imperceptibly more.

Din chuckled once more. But this time, his tone was somber.

He never viewed emotions as weakness, but as vulnerability. There was a difference between the two. Enemies saw it as both, which meant that he had kept a tight rein on these matters for all these decades. It was to a point where stoicism became involuntary instinct. When they had first found each other, Grogu had seemed to operate the same way. Those days were nearly distant memories now.

It was something that Din had always been glad about. The fact that Grogu felt secure and happy enough, in the presence of a stone-cold bounty hunter, to finally be himself. To finally be a kid. No, wait. Din wasn't just glad. He was proud. He was proud of everything this kid – his foundling – had accomplished.

Din's smile faded. Ahsoka was yet again right. It was almost startling how attached they'd become to each other. Startling. And sad when it certainly shouldn't be.

Not wanting to be distracted by such a realization right now, not in this peaceful moment at least, Din reached towards Grogu. He opened the palm of his hand. "Give me the ball," he requested.

Grogu didn't lean away or anything like that, but he moved his hands out to the side. He burbled slightly, not too keen on giving it back just yet.

Din wasn't at all offended. He remembered his youth, all those sleepless nights and bad dreams that caused him to wake with a terrified jolt. He would clutch the mythosaur pendant tensely against his heart. By next morning, he would always feel the harsh indentations the beskar trinket had made against his skin, even with his robe protecting him. The pendant kept him grounded, a reminder of his new life, his new people, and possibly a lighter future.

While this situation wasn't fear based – thankfully – this was definitely something that Din understood. This ball was important to Grogu, and he wasn't interesting in stealing it whatsoever.

Which was why he was asking, not demanding. His voice was clear, but still gentle, allowing it to be a choice. "Grogu," he encouraged with a single nod. "Give me the ball." He waited. "Come on."

Grogu looked down at his hand, and then back up at him. His ears were dropped a little with uncertainty. It was possible he knew what Din was going to ask next.

…Was that how the Force worked? How telepathic was he exactly?

After staring at the ball for another second, Grogu grunted and held it out for him.

Din took it away, and then held it up. "Okay, here we go."

With the ball no longer in his grasp, Grogu fidgeted with the air. All the while, he let out a series of plaintive whines.

"You can have it," Din said. "Just like before."

Grogu held up one of his hands, but did nothing more. Hesitancy had returned as he waited for Din to give it back to him.

Given how brave the kid was, this still seemed so unnatural to Din. He huffed, and shook his head. "Grogu," he said even more clearly. "Come on. You can have it."

Grogu's eyes started to squint. This time, he raised both of his hands.

The change of air pressure returned. And Din could've sworn he felt wind racing over his fingers. "Come on," he nodded in anticipation.

A second later, the ball flew from his grip, landing in Grogu's hands.

And it was still downright amazing! Not only to see magic in front of his own eyes, but to see that his foundling could accomplish it, and wield it at any time. And that he could even overcome some fear to do it. It was insane and remarkable all at once!

Din was smiling from ear to ear. "Dank farrik," he said loudly, slapping his knee.

Startled, Grogu squeaked sharply and dropped the ball by his feet.

Din's smile instantly vanished and he held a calming hand out. "Hey, no, I'm not mad at you," he reassured quickly. "You did good. I just…When the nice lady said you had training, I just…"

Grogu sat there in his seat, his hands clasped together, face tensed. He refused to even look at the ball now, let alone touch it. Din sighed, unable to stand the sight. And unable to get a grip on his own damned inner struggle. Ahsoka was right.

He leaned forward, and picked up the ball. He held it out for Grogu, who eventually took it with a grateful slow blink. His throat was tight. "You're…very special, kid."

Grogu simply put his attention back on the ball.

Din turned in his seat to face the console again. "We're gonna find that place you belong. And they're gonna take real good care of you." A planet approached. "This is Tython. That's where we're gonna try and find you a Jedi." He paused. "But you have to agree to go with them if they want you to. Understand?" He glanced back at Grogu, but only briefly. He heard him trill, so he kept speaking. "Plus, I can't train you. You're too powerful."

Grogu paused.

He glanced back again. "Don't you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff," he asked, but even he had to admit that he was barely listening to his own words.

Grogu continued trilling again, almost hastily, and worried. But that could've been Din projecting his own emotions, which wasn't fair to the kid.

He jabbed a button. "I agreed to take you back to your own kind," he said, self-aware enough to know the neutrality in his voice was utterly forced. "So that's what I need to do. You understand, right?"

This was about completing his quest. It was one of the highest honors in their culture, to rescue and help a child in need. Din was fulfilling the Creed. This wasn't about him.

This was about Grogu.

And very soon now, their journey would come to an end.

Grogu turned the ball in his hands over and over again, but only halfheartedly. He couldn't exactly focus on it right now. His father was upset. Although Ahsoka had suggested it, it seemed to have something to do with Tython.

Grogu was also unsure about going there. They were supposed to find another Jedi, and he was supposed to…go with them. He wasn't quite sure what that entailed, why it was important, and why his father seemed to want that for him. Actually, 'want' was putting it lightly. It seemed that his father didn't want it at all, yet he couldn't voice it for some reason.

Apparently, a Jedi was supposed to help him hone his abilities, the same thing that Ahsoka had considered doing. He clutched the ball a little tighter. If it meant that he had to go with them, whoever they were, then he wasn't sure he'd like that. That said, if he was to have anything to do with a stranger, then it was safe to assume that his father would be with him the entire time.

Well, actually. That didn't sound too awful, provided the routine stayed the same. Go on an adventure, and then return to the Razor Crest when all was said and done. Only, instead of an adventure, it would be training. Yes, not awful at all. But he got the sense that it was more complicated than that, which was possibly the cause of his father's anxiety. Grogu wished his father would give more details, but there was no way he could actually ask for that.

They entered Tython's atmosphere, and soon the Razor Crest was flying over the land.

Grogu burbled tensely. This planet…exuded something. It almost felt like hyperspace, but without the icy blue skies, and it contained a lack of energy in contrast. The planet was empty, it seemed, made of trees and rocks and shrubs only. The Force was supposed to be teeming with life. But it felt like this place was made of desolation and loneliness. Like a year of one's life long forgotten to aging and time.

His father spoke up. "Looks like that's the magic rock I'm supposed to take you to down there."

Grogu merely grunted, trying to keep focus on the ball. His father circled the ship over the mountain, and he suddenly found himself unable to ignore it. Through a low window of the windshield, he spied a mountain, where a circle of rectangular stones rested atop its peak. At its center was something round.

He stared closely at it, not necessarily transfixed, but not able to look away from it either. The Force was definitely prominent here, on this mountaintop especially. He felt it, like the background hum of the Razor Crest. But instead of feeling cozy and homey, it felt like a being in hibernation that didn't want any disturbances.

He cooed with uncertainty. And he finally was able to look away from it.

The decision was to land a great deal of distance away. There wasn't a lot of flat land here. Though Grogu sensed no danger anywhere, he also didn't know what was going to happen here. Still, his father had a zest for adventure, one that he easily emulated. If his father was not concerned, then he wasn't either.

The ramp opened.

Though lonely, the landscape was pretty nonetheless. For what it was worth, the low calls of insects and birdsong reached his ears.

His father readied the jetpack. Without needing any prompting, Grogu held his arms up and bounced on the balls of his feet. Speaking of which, they had to leave the silver ball in his hammock, not wanting lose it while here. If they dropped it, it would land amongst the rock formations, most likely never to be found again.

His father chuckled, which was a recently new sound that Grogu thoroughly enjoyed hearing. He knelt down, picked him up, and tucked him in one arm. The hold was solid, which told Grogu they would be flying high, and possibly fast.

"Alright, kid," he said. "You ready for this?"

He babbled loudly and smiled, giving the gauntlet an impatient pat. Even though his hand was in the way, his father still managed to push the necessary button to send them skyward.

The land was a beautiful green blur. The wind whipped his ears, and the air was refreshing against his face. A speeder bike was thrilling. Hyperspace was mystical. But nothing compared to the absolute wildness of flying with a jetpack. The same freedom was comparable to the Razor Crest.

He hollered exuberantly as they circled around the mountain. His father's arms shook, a chuckle that couldn't exactly be heard.

Grogu's laughter faded away as soon as they landed atop the mountain.

His father gave a swift glance around before stepping towards the center of the peak. There was a round stone just ahead of them. The background buzz of the Force was all around. His father couldn't exactly sense it, but Grogu still wondered if he could feel how obvious this was.

"Well," his father supposed. "I guess this is it." He paused. "Does this look…Jedi to you?" He walked closer to the stone, and Grogu brought his hands in close to his chest apprehensively, wishing he had the silver ball to cling to.

His father placed him on top of the stone, taking care to make sure he was centered and wouldn't fall off. As soon as Grogu felt the cool surface beneath him…the background buzz stopped. All the energy and activity in the air fell silent, allowing the sound of the wind and insects to stand out more.

Grogu looked down at the stone. Could the Force vanish?

"Okay," his father said with anticipation. "Here we go."

Grogu cooed at him. While he didn't feel anxious anymore, he still didn't quite understand what he was supposed to do here.

"This is the seeing stone," his father reminded. "Are you seeing anything?"

He remembered Ahsoka's words, that he had to be placed here and then choose his own path. He was supposed to be seeing or looking for something. He glanced around, but saw nothing.

His father paced forward a little, also looking around. "Or are they supposed to see you?" He activated something on the side of his helmet, and he focused on the ground and sides of the stone. "Maybe there's some kind of…control or something."

Grogu also wasn't sure how this was supposed to work, or how to use it to find another Jedi. A mechanism of some kind only made sense. Something to trigger it. While his father looked, he noticed the blue butterflies flying about. One fluttered over his head, almost skimming his ears. Its wings were pretty and delicate. Raising one of his hands, he reached up to play with it. Unfortunately his arms were a little too short.

He heard his father sigh. "Oh, come on, kid. Ahsoka told me all I had to do was get you here and you'd do the rest."

Grogu lowered his hand and hummed. He would try, but what was he supposed to do? He wasn't even capable of grabbing a butterfly, let alone attempting to contact a Jedi.

Over the valley, the growl of an engine broke the day's serenity.

A ship was soaring forebodingly through the sky.

His father zeroed in on it, not looking away. His hand hovered over the holster of his blaster. Judging by how close it was, whoever the pilot was knew they were there. His father jogged a few feet away to follow its flight path. It circled around them, moving imposingly through the sky until landing not too far from the Razor Crest.

While his father saw to whatever threat this was, Grogu was contemplative. He was placed on this stone for a reason and a mission. His father needed him to do this.

In all his years, Grogu never really stopped to consider what he was or wasn't good at. Perhaps he wasn't good at a lot things, like running or speaking. That said, he was good at wielding the Force, with what little he could do with it.

This stone he was sitting on was in the shape of the silver ball.

Palm open, he placed his hand over the stone. He let his eyes relax. The rush of energy slowly flowed over the tops of his claws, gradually picking up speed the longer he kept his hand there.

The background buzz returned. With it came a flash of light, blue lines that were the same shade as the skies of hypserpace and the flames of the Armorer's forge. Its hazy brightness caused his eyes to slip shut completely. He then felt both of his hands turn upwards of their own accord.

The Force was all around him in a way that he'd never experienced before. It was familiar, and comforting, and overwhelming. While he felt no fear, he still wanted to get through this quickly. If the Force connected Jedi together, then perhaps he could truly reach out to them.

It was a goal that unexpectedly consumed him, and he felt his energy sapping far more quickly than usual, but he couldn't stop it. Before the Force flooded his hearing entirely, he might've heard his father say, "Time's up, kid. We've gotta get out of here!"

He swiveled his ears forward, but he could've imagined his voice. Soon, he couldn't hear anything whatsoever, as he felt himself consumed by a trance-like state.

Din had to leave Grogu there, if only for a few minutes. A Firespray touched down not too far from the Razor Crest. At first, he had no idea what the hell it was doing here. That type of ship was normally used to guard prisons. Upon closer inspection, from what he could see on the ground, its metal surface was worn, faded, and had plenty of scuffs and battle scars.

This told Din that the pilot was possibly a renegade, or a vagabond. This was dangerous, for both Din and Grogu. They were more than likely here to collect a bounty. And so he left Grogu's side, ready to cut down anyone that would potentially threaten them.

The warrior's name was Boba Fett. And all he wanted was beskar armor, a set that Din had been given from Cobb Vanth that apparently he thought he had claim to. Din was infuriated by this audacity. This man didn't seem Mandalorian whatsoever. With the gaderffii stick slung on his back, and the pride in his neck and shoulders, he seemed more Tusken. Din wanted no quarrel with him, but with his blaster in hand he wouldn't hesitate.

Boba had Fennec Shand working with him, who had somehow been alive all this time. Her scope was aimed directly at Grogu.

Din activated the whistling birds in his gauntlet, more than ready to kill her and Boba if they didn't stand down.

Boba was hell-bent on negotiating for the spare armor, and Din saw that Fennec was simply the hired gunman. There was an agreement, for everyone to lay down their weapons, including Din's jetpack, in order to make things more peaceful.

Dubious and alert, Din agreed. Neither he nor Boba wanted bloodshed on either side. Boba explained a bit of his lineage, and that the armor rightfully belonged to him. Handing it over would ensure everyone's safety. Din stood there, stiffly, still enraged that anyone would have the gall to aim a scope at his foundling. But he listened anyway, allowing the reasonable part of himself to take charge, if only for the moment. He could always reactivate the whistling birds at a moment's notice.

Fennec informed him that the price of Grogu's bounty was rising, causing a sharp chill to stab at his nerves. It was enough to snap him out of his quiet rage, but it wasn't enough to address the deal quickly enough.

An Imperial ship shattered the negotiation, landing in the valley.

Din immediately left the area to return to Grogu, leaving Fennec and Boba to deal with whatever troopers showed up.

Grogu was still in his trance, surrounded by that wispy, blue…whatever the hell it was! It acted as a type of shield. Din reached his hands through it. The moment his fingers pushed against it, jolts of static coursed through his veins. It was a sensation that was freezing and burning and so horrifically unnatural to him. It shoved ruthlessly against his body, and maybe even against his willpower.

He fought it every step of the way, digging his soles into the stone floor beneath his boots. His shoulders hunched against the onslaught. Finally, he breached through it, the blue light streaming around his wrists.

Before he could gather Grogu into his arms, light and wind shot him backwards. He plummeted through the air, landing on his shoulder and ribs many feet away. Oxygen was sucked out of him as he struggled to remain conscious.

When he got his bearings, he groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He couldn't recall ever being tossed like that before. The Force had executed a simple throw that somehow managed to almost cripple him. He stood up, and he stared at the light that beamed all around his foundling. Grogu was still in a state, unable to respond or even open his eyes for whatever reason.

This was the Force's doing. Somehow, it had taken him over. While he didn't appear to be in any type of distress, he was still vulnerable. From the valley, Din could hear Imperial blasters, Fennec's rifle, and a gaderffii stick striking against armor.

Another Imperial ship soon landed nearby.

Din had to get Grogu to safety. They had no other choice.

He tried again to break through the barrier, but the wind was already against him. He couldn't even get close enough to touch the light. It shoved him backwards. He stumbled to keep his feet on the ground, grunting and gasping at the energy that fought him. Still winded from the first try, Din stared at Grogu frantically. But he couldn't breach the shield that surrounded him.

He was Mandalorian, not Jedi, after all. He couldn't use the Force to get the kid out of there. But he knew how to fight whole platoons of Imperials, and the Empire kept sending more. He needed to keep his foundling safe.

He glanced down the mountain, at the battle taking place, before looking at Grogu again. "Okay, I'm gonna protect you," he promised. "Just stay there. I'll be back soon." Blaster in hand, he once again left Grogu's side.

He once told himself that when he and Grogu were separated, things always backfired. And that they were safer together, not apart. He still stood by that. In his opinion, that would never change. But in that moment, he thought he was doing the right thing, ready to fight foolish Imperials who even thought about taking his foundling away.

Din thought he was protecting him this way.

Din, Boba, and Fennec fought side by side, valiantly having each other's backs. Boba had snatched his armor out of the Razor Crest, evening the odds. It resulted in the troopers' attempted retreat. Boba shot both ships down with just his weapons on hand. It was the only positive thing to result from this entire damned and cursed day.

From somewhere in Tython's atmosphere, a laser split the sky. It came down onto the Razor Crest. Fire and ash filled the air, followed by vicious black smoke.

Next, more Imperials came, landing atop the mountain, and surrounding the seeing stone. Din's jetpack had been kicked around during the battle, and he had no time to search for it. From the ground, he watched troopers in dark black armor cutting through the sky.

One of these troopers held something small in its arms as they flew away from Tython.

The Empire was back. Those were the words that Boba Fett hopelessly uttered.

Din didn't believe it for a second. Yes, Imperial remnants were here to stay in the Outer Rim, but that's all they were. Remnants. And today…those remnants took everything from him.

The ash beneath his boots was deceptively soft. But if he dug his soles in deep enough, he would feel the splinters of shrapnel. Smoke steamed upwards, but he didn't adjust the air pressure in his helmet. There was no point.

"They've got the baby," Fennec reported to Boba. "Don't let them get away."

"Stop him," Din demanded swiftly. "I don't want the Child hurt."

"Abort pursuit," Fennec instructed. "Disengage. Do not harm the Child."

The smoke that drifted through his helmet burned his throat. His face stung heavily, and moisture escaped from the corners of eyes. His entire body was numb as he bent down to inspect any solid piece of his ship that he found. But it was all junk now.

…It was all gone.

Grogu whimpered sharply, Din knew that much. He'd heard it clear as day as he ran up and over the next ridge to reach him. It made his chest and gut twist painfully. When he and Fennec finally reached the stone, the troopers were already flying away. Din also thought he heard a scream of terror, but it might've been the roaring jets from the troopers' rocket boots.

Staring up at him, horrifically helpless, Din activated the thermal imaging in his helmet. He knew what he was going to see, and he still wasn't prepared for how bone-chilling it was going to be.

Grogu's heat signature was low in comparison to other species, but Din could see him. He was clasped in the emotionless arm of a trooper. His feet dangled in the air, and his claws were dug into the metal armor, hanging on with all his strength.

Grogu looked down at Din. His exhausted eyes showing how petrified he was. They made eye contact, and Din knew that he was waiting. Waiting to be rescued. It was an image that would weave its way into his nightmares for years to come. He was frozen to the spot, and unable to fly after him.

Grogu and the troopers disappeared into the clouds.

Lying deep in the soot was a little sphere.

It didn't shine in the sunlight. What caught Din's attention was how small it was, and how it managed to survive the destruction. It was made out of a simple nameless metal that should've been melted or shattered when the laser struck.

Din ran his fingers over its surface, brushing away the ash. Unfortunately, it was scuffed, and had lost a significant amount of shine. He held it tightly, clutching it in his fist. Then, he let up, and put it away in the ammo bag.

The only other thing to survive the wreckage was the beskar staff. No other weapons, let alone things of value, could be found or exhumed.

His ship, his only home, was destroyed. Reduced to dust from a single blast.

Even worse, his foundling was gone, taken away right in front of him. After he had made all the wrong decisions to ensure his safety.

Din replayed these events. Over and over. They flickered in his mind like cruel glitches on a map's screen. There was nothing he could've done to stop any of it from happening.

…There was nothing left.