Their trek, or flight, as it turned out to be, back to the surface was blessedly uneventful. A droning sound grew louder the closer they got to the entrance, and they emerged from the cave just in time to see a small, nondescript shuttle land next to the N-1, its clunky and somewhat boxy design almost comical next to the sleek lines of his Naboo starfighter. His hand hovered near his blaster, ready to draw at a moment's notice. The engines sputtered into silence, and then a moment later the ramp lowered and three figures- two men and a woman- descended. They didn't seem threatening, the leader of the trio even wearing a partial kit of worn-looking beskar'gam, but Din was still wary of anyone he didn't know arriving on Mandalore so soon after their victory.
Grogu gave a squeak of curiosity, but Din quieted him with a gentle hand on his head before he drew his cloak over his shoulder, shielding the child from view before he slowly approached the newcomers. The leader was a man who looked to be only a handful of years older than himself, and the physical similarities between the three of them left little doubt that they were related. The younger man trailing even had the same smooth but purposeful stride of the elder.
"Su cuy'gar, friend," the man greeted. It was jarring to hear Mando'a spoken with such a distinctly Core World accent, but the fact that he spoke it at all was a reassuring sign that he was indeed Mando'ad. "I hope it's alright that we landed here. Your ship is the first sign of life we've seen since arriving."
"Did you not meet the patrols outside of orbit?"
"We came out of hyperspace in the southern hemisphere a few hours ago and have been scouring the surface for the camp we heard about," the younger man offered. "Though we didn't expect to find you all the way out here." His gaze skimmed over every inch of their surroundings as he spoke rather than focusing on Din, as if he had never seen such a place in his life. Though considering his accent, it was entirely possible he'd never set foot on Mandalore. The woman, however, was staring straight at him, and he fought the urge to fidget as she studied him with intense, blue eyes that were almost…familiar.
The younger man's words finally registered in his mind and he turned his attention back to the man clad in blue and gray beskar, his defenses beginning to creep up once again. He'd heard stories of Mandalorians in the past who had betrayed their people by aligning themselves with the Empire; Manda help him if he allowed such traitors into their ranks so soon after their victory. "How did you hear about us?"
"Forgive me," the older man spoke up. "I should have introduced myself from the start; I am Konrok, of Clan Kryze. You may call me Kor, though most would probably know me by my childhood nickname, Korkie. These are my children, Adonai and Lyra. My father was Itimar Kryze, brother of Duchess Satine and Bo-Katan Kryze." Din swore he felt his heart stop in his chest. Bo-Katan herself had told him that she was the last of her line during their first meeting on Trask. The grave tone in her voice confirmed she believed it with every fiber of her being. Had she simply not known that her nephew was still alive, or was he some sort of masterful pretender? As quickly as the theory formed it was blown apart; one only had to look at the three of them and know he was telling the truth: they had the same angular features and fair complexion, the same slender nose and keenly observant eyes that he'd come to know in his friend.
Grogu chose that moment to peek his head out from behind Din's cape, burbling curiously at the strangers. He moved his hand to block the child from view- but not before the woman's gaze locked on his son and she sucked in a sharp breath. Her mouth gaped as her gaze flicked back to Din and she stared at him with the same look of incredulity Ahsoka Tano had worn the first time she'd laid eyes on the kid.
"You're him," she breathed.
"I'm who?" He didn't bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice; he'd very nearly had his fill of cryptic conversations for one day.
Bo's nephew held up a placating hand. "Please, let me explain. We didn't mean to alarm you. My daughter has a very strong connection with the Force, and from the moment we made it through the storms she's been able to sense the presence of your companion."
"His son," she corrected gently, her azure gaze never leaving him. He felt Grogu push his fingers aside and he chirruped happily, which brought a slight smile to Lyra's downturned mouth. He suddenly got the impression that the two of them were sharing a conversation that only they could hear, and he moved his hand to allow the kid an unobstructed view of his new acquaintance. Leaving them to it, he repeated his question to Kor.
"How did you know that we were here, that we retook Mandalore? No one was involved except for my covert and a platoon of Nite Owls, and communication from the surface is still impossible." Not to mention that they had all agreed to wait until they were certain of their security on the planet before attempting to contact any other clans or tribes in the greater galaxy- apart from their own on Nevarro of course.
A gleam came to the other man's eye, one that bore a hint of boyish mischievousness. "Never let it be said that Mando'ade take defeat lightly. We've had people working undercover at nearly every level of the Imperial remnant system since the Night of a Thousand Tears- gathering information, stealing weapons and supplies, committing sabotage. Anything to weaken their power and prepare for taking back our world. When one of our spies heard rumors that Mandalorians had returned, I came from Dressel as soon as I could to verify that it wasn't just an Imperial hoax. There is a secret council of warlords and former officers who are determined to resurrect the Empire- including Moff Gideon, who is responsible for the genocide of our people. We have agents ready to eliminate all of them as soon as they receive confirmation that Manda'yaim is truly back in our hands."
A plan for multiple assassinations should have bothered Din more than it did. He preferred an outright fight to subterfuge and clandestine plots, but recent events proved that leaving Imperial leaders alive would only lead to more problems. And not just for them, but for the galaxy as a whole. If this man already had things poised to be set in motion, there wasn't much he could do to stop them. "I know about Gideon. We had several encounters with him after I went back on a bounty deal and rescued the child from experimentation." He glanced down at Grogu, who peered up to look at him then leaned into Din's side. He rested his hand against his son's back and smiled slightly at the way his small body vibrated with happy purs. "I can't say I feel any remorse for the fate that befell him." Kor raised a brow, prompting Din to expound. "He was killed when one of your aunt's Nite Owls crashed a stolen light cruiser into his base near the Great Forge. The demagolka was cooked alive in his own armor."
The other man made a face that was somewhere between a smirk and a scowl. "Serves him right after the destruction he inflicted on our people. I imagine my aunt was the first to dance on his grave?"
Din's stomach dropped at the mention of Bo. He knew would have to tell Kor about her death- he just wished it could be later rather than sooner. "I'm sorry, she was killed during the battle. Gideon stabbed her just before the cruiser crashed, and it was only because of the kid's abilities that we survived the inferno. She died a few minutes later."
The storm that had been brewing in the Kor's expression suddenly vanished, replaced with a look of forlorn heartbreak that Din was intimately familiar with. It was the same pain that he had carried with him since the loss of his family on Aq Vetina and then was later compounded by the death of Eitan Moresh. "She's buried near the remains of your family's castle on Kalevala. I can take you there later, if you wish."
"Vor entye. I would like that very much." Din nodded in reply. They lapsed into a stilted silence until the son, Adonai, spoke up.
"Shall we show him what we've been working on, Father?"
"Of course." Kor gestured toward their ship with a sweeping motion of his hand, inviting Din to walk with him. Adonai and Lyra hurried ahead and disappeared up the ramp into the hold, while the older adults and Grogu followed at a more leisurely pace.
"Bo-Katan once told me that she was the last of her line. If that isn't true, where have you been all this time?" He didn't mean the question to sound brusque or accusatory, but he struggled to understand why Kor hadn't at least reached out to his aunt to let her know she wasn't alone.
"Ah, I can see why she would have thought that." For the first time Kor averted his gaze, a pained expression turning his features. "My aunt Satine was killed during the Clone Wars. Loyalists that broke away from Death Watch, including Aunt Bo, provided support when some friends and I helped her escape after her prime minister betrayed and imprisoned her during a coup by Pre Vizsla." His voice became thick with suppressed tears. "I was knocked out trying to protect her; when I came to she was gone and the rest of my friends were dead. Later on, Aunt Bo and a Jedi led Republic forces against the darjetii that killed her and stole her throne, but no one knew what became of any of them after the Empire rose to power and the Jedi were massacred.
"After our rescue attempt failed I snuck off-world and returned to home to Chandrila, finished my education there, and then did what I could to help my father with the research he was conducting on how to reverse the damage done by all the wars on Mandalore. Eventually he heard rumors that Senator Bail Organa was sympathetic to the Rebellion, so he pledged Mandalorian aid and access to the research once it was completed for use on other planets in exchange for the necessary finances. He was on Alderaan collecting the funds when it was destroyed by the first Death Star. The only reason his research survived was because I had a copy that I then took with me when we went into hiding after the Purge. We've all been living under assumed names for the past nine years, pretending to still be loyal to the Empire while working to perfect what he started." The haunted, mournful look in his eyes was finally replaced by a glimmer of hope. "And now, we can finally put it to use."
They reached the base of the ramp just as the younger Kryzes emerged from the hold, each with a large crate loaded on a hover skiff. Kor unlocked the lid of one of the boxes with the press of a button on his vambrace then helped his son remove the heavy cover. Nestled inside were half a dozen round objects that looked like some sort of explosive or incendiary device. Din looked skeptically at the older man. Kor didn't attempt to remove any of the items- they looked far too heavy for any one person to move alone- but instead rested a hand on one, which caused Din to involuntarily flinch behind the safety of his visor.
"It's taken many years to perfect these. We've done extensive testing on the trinitite that forms after the use of fusion bombs, including what it takes to break it down into its basic mineral composition. It's a very complicated and technical process to explain, but we discovered that while it's not possible to exactly reverse the reaction caused by the bombs, we can force a new reaction that instead breaks down the trinitite and sand to form a moderately nutrient-rich sort of soil."
"Meaning… plant life could begin to grow on the surface again?" The thought of lush, green plants or waving fields of grain in place of the desolation and lifelessness surrounding them was almost more than he could wrap his mind around. Was it possible that perhaps, one day, their descendants would have the chance to run in fields of flowers or play among trees as strong and verdant as those on Sorgan? That they would no longer need to sequester themselves in domed cities?
"Exactly. All we have to do is crack a few inches into the crust of the trinitite, set the mines, and get out of the way. Each one of these has a reaction radius of at least ten square miles, depending on the thickness of the fusion. And we have nearly a hundred more of them being assembled back home right now." Adonai's face was bright with eagerness as he answered- clearly he shared his buir's enthusiasm for the project. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet in a bit of youthful exuberance and turned to his sister, who was still eyeing Din as if he held some important secret and she was determined to discover it. But in a way, it could be argued that he was."We finally have our planet back. Now if we could just find the one who wields the Darksaber."
Din froze at his words, and Lyra's gaze sharpened on him at the infinitesimal stiffness that immediately came to his body. But before she could call him on it, Grogu babbled out a string of chirps and squeaks, his claws clacking audibly against the hilt of the weapon. Two more pairs of eyes locked onto him like heat-seeking missiles, the elder Kryze's gaze snapping down to the saber and then back to Din's helmet again before his mouth fell open.
"How- where- I… you're the Mand'alor?"
Din fought back the resigned sigh that would have slipped out if someone had asked him that even a week ago. Things were different now; he had accepted his duty and everything that came with it- even if he still didn't like the near-constant attention that was inevitably directed at him. "I am." He was almost shocked by the sound of his own voice; the confirmation was two simple words, but rather than uncertainty or begrudging his tone was level, firm, and sure.
Within a second all three of them fell to one knee, heads bowed in deference with fists to their hearts. Kor lifted his eyes, resolve still mixing with a hint of disbelief in his expression. "Clan Kryze is at your service, my lord."
"Please, stand." Adonai and Lyra exchanged a hesitant look but joined their father in obeying. Din held out his hand. "I'm honored to know you, just as I was honored to know your ba'vodu and fight alongside her."
After the briefest hesitation Kor's hand grasped Din's vambrace and Din clasped his in return, his grip strong yet deferential. "Thank you…" He trailed off then huffed a self-conscious chuckle. "I'm sorry, I never asked your name."
"I am Din, of Clan Djarin, and this-" he placed his hand on his son's back, nudging his carrier slightly forward to make a proper introduction- "is my ad, Grogu." As Kor nodded a greeting to the child, Din found his attention drawn to the skies above them. When they'd entered the caves it had been early afternoon; now the sun was sinking near the horizon and shadows had begun to fall. "Night is coming; if you follow me in your ship, I can take you to our camp."
The man's answering nod was as sharp as any Fighting Corps cadet's. "Lead the way, Mand'alor."