"Well?" Din asked impatiently, glaring at 2-1B.

The droid sighed deeply, the vocoder hissing as it released a gust of air. "I can clear you for light activity only."

"Good enough for me." Din said, standing from the bed and walking over to the set of cabinets on the other side of the room. He opened one and found his flight suit folded neatly on a shelf next to his armor.

"I cannot emphasize this enough." 2-1B insisted as Din pulled on his flight suit. "Light activity, nothing that will put undue strain on your leg."

"Fine." Din agreed irritably, checking the buckles on his flight suit. He reached his hands up over his head and stretched with a faint groan, his spine popping.

"Ah?" Grogu looked over at him from his seat on top of one of the medbay cabinets, his ears twitching.

"I'm fine, kid." Din reassured him, reaching for his chest plate and fastening it into place. "Just ready to get out of here."

"I must remind you that it would be wise to rest another day." 2-1B said, rather huffily for a droid.

"You said a week." Din reminded it, putting on his shin guards and thigh plates. "I'm fine, now."

"That does not mean you should rush headlong into strenuous activity." The droid insisted. "You have only just healed."

"I'm fine." Din repeated irritably. "I have business to take care of."

"Ah?" Grogu asked.

"Time to pay the covert a visit." Din answered, affixing his pauldrons to his flight suit. Enough running. He told himself firmly. I have to face them, ask for forgiveness.

The memory of the armorer's defeated tone rang through his mind, her disappointment at learning Din had removed his helmet, her silent grief at realizing he was no longer a son of the tribe. Then you are a Mandalorian no more.

I have to - to try and make things right. He thought, pain heavy in his chest. There must be some way I can atone, some way to return to the tribe. He closed his eyes, grief licking at his ribs. It might never be like it was, but I have to - I have to at least try.

A week spent stuck in Fett's medbay with little but his morose thoughts to accompany him had made it abundantly clear. It's time to face it. The guilt, the shame, all of that weight he'd carried since Morak, the rules he'd broken. He'd let Fett get too close, let his foolish desire for Fett's touch distract him from facing his transgressions head on.

It's time to face it. All of it. The tangle of emotions he'd pushed to the back of his mind since Morak, the pit of guilt in his stomach, the shame of being an outcast, the grief of losing his people, his brothers and sisters - he could no longer ignore it. He desperately wanted to throw himself at the armorer's feet and seek her calm guidance, find some reassurance that he could atone, that he could be forgiven for his sins, no matter how grievous the offense. Breaking the Creed - that's a sin I may never be able to atone for. Maybe I'll be an apostate forever.

The thought of being an outcast forever, sentenced to living in exile among outsiders for the rest of his life, was like a shard of glass piercing his heart, sharp and brittle. Din had never known anyone who was an apostate, had never known anyone who had decided to remove the helmet as he had. It was unthinkable for his brothers and sisters to commit such blasphemy. It had been unthinkable for Din himself, until he had been faced with the choice between the Creed and Grogu, between his religion and his son. Maybe I can never be forgiven for that choice. But - I have to try.

He'd lingered too long on Tatooine, restless and adrift since his last encounter with the armorer and Paz. He'd let this thing with Fett, this tangle of friendship and desire, distract him from facing the consequences of his transgressions. It was time to face the tribe, time to own up to his actions, to take responsibility for breaking the Creed. No matter the anxiety that twisted in his stomach at the thought of the armorer's disappointed gaze.

Get it together, Mando. He told himself sternly.

"Headed out so soon?" Fett asked from the doorway. He was fully armored except for his helmet, which he held tucked under one arm, his scarred face frowning slightly.

Din startled, dropping one of his gloves. Fett walked over and picked it up, offering it to Din wordlessly.

"I must return to my tribe." He said, avoiding Fett's gaze as he put his gloves on, followed by the handguards. "I - I have been gone too long."

Fett smiled crookedly, a shadow passing over his face. "Of course."

"I - I have things to take care of. Business." Din tried to explain, guilt twisting in his stomach.

It's not - I'm not running away. He thought. I just - I need to make amends, to atone for my transgressions. I'll come back. I want to come back.

Fett shrugged with one shoulder. "I understand."

Now fully armored, Din shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, unsure what to do with his hands. "I will return. I - I meant what I said, in Mos Espa. I'm - I'm with you until we both fall."

Fett looked at him for a long moment, his eyes warm with an affection that made Din want to shy away, to hide from the depth of the emotion he saw there. "You really mean that."

"Yes." Din shifted, uncomfortable under the weight of Fett's gaze. "I do."

"I'm honored." Fett said seriously. "There's a place for you here, Djarin. I could use a good hunter around."

Din cleared his throat awkwardly. "I - thank you. I'll take you up on that."

Fett nodded, offering Din a hand. "Until we meet again, then."

Din clasped his forearm, smiling weakly behind his helmet. "See you soon, Fett."

"Boba." Fett said. He smiled, his grip on Din's forearm solid. "Call me Boba."

Din nodded slowly, still holding onto Fett's arm. Neither one of them let go. "Boba. I'll come back, if you - after my business is resolved."

"I look forward to it." Fett - Boba - replied, his gaze steady.

Din swallowed nervously, curling his fingers around Fett's vambrace, the beskar digging into his glove. He felt as if he stood at the edge of the canyon cliff again, staring down at the drop below, the wind whistling in his ears. I've never - I've always just been Mando, or sometimes Djarin. First names were kept within the tribe and rarely used, as fiercely guarded as the location of the covert. There were those who knew his name, now. Greef Karga, Cara, Fennec Shand, and even Fett himself, who had known since the attack on the Imperial cruiser, but none of them ever called him Din, as if they sensed his discomfort with outsiders knowing even his surname.

Din wasn't supposed to give his name freely to those outside the tribe. That was an intimacy shared only with clan, in the safety of the covert. Out in the galaxy he was just Mando, one of many.

Our secrecy is our survival. The armorer's firm conviction rang through his mind.

But - Fett had given his name freely, even when they had first met. He too seemed to prefer that most call him by his surname, but now he freely offered Din the use of his first name. The intimacy of the gesture, its implied familiarity, wasn't lost on Din. Fett - Boba - was offering him something more than simply being allies.

Din took a deep breath, and stepped off the cliff. "I'm - you can call me Din."

"Din." Fett repeated softly. "Safe travels, Din."

Din nodded, finally releasing Boba's arm and turning towards Grogu, who still sat on top of the cabinet, chewing his mythosaur pendant.

"Ready to go, kid?"

"Ahhh." Grogu agreed, reaching up with both hands in an unspoken request to be picked up. Din obliged him, tucking the kid snugly into the crook of his elbow. Grogu curled a little claw around Din's vambrace, making a contented snuffling noise.

Din nodded to Boba, curling his free hand into a fist and pressing it to his heart. Boba returned the gesture, his eyes warm with an affection that made Din's heart race.

I'm coming back. He reminded himself as he turned and left the room. This isn't - it's not goodbye. I swore an oath, and I'll keep that oath.

He'd sworn loyalty to Fett in Mos Espa, and Fett had reciprocated that loyalty tenfold, had offered him work, shelter, comfort, even. I might be an apostate, but that doesn't mean I intend to go back on my word. Din thought determinedly. Abandoning his word would be dishonorable, would be to break the Creed anew, adding one more sin to his list of transgressions.

I still have my honor. Din thought, heading down the palace halls. I won't abandon Boba.

He pushed open the heavy palace doors and emerged in the courtyard, flipping a coin to the human guard on duty.

"Headed out?" The guard asked companionably, pocketing the coin.

"For now." Din replied, settling Grogu in the ship's droid compartment. The kid cooed eagerly and set about exploring the unfamiliar space, his ears twitching with excitement.

"Well, I'll keep a spot free for you."

"I appreciate that." Din said, handing Grogu his ball. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble. Boss seems to think you're joining the crew."

Din shrugged, flushing a little behind his armor. He was suddenly very grateful that his expression was hidden, so the guard couldn't see the thrill that went through him at the thought of being a loyal hunter at Boba's side, standing guard near the throne. "Pay's good."

The guard snorted. "Yeah. You around in Fortuna's day? He paid even worse than the old slug. Good riddance, I say."

"So I've heard." Din answered, settling into the pilot's seat. "Seems like it's better for everyone to have Fett around."

"Business is good." The guard agreed happily, before clearing his throat. "Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you, eh? Safe travels. May the Force be with you."

"I - thank you." Din gave him a nod, not quite sure what response was customary. Among the covert, no one had ever called on the Force to wish another good luck, but among others old enough to remember the Republic, it seemed to be a standard goodbye. It still took him off guard, sometimes, even after months living more or less permanently among outsiders. A goodbye among the tribe was a keldabe kiss, helmets pressed together, or a slightly more formal warrior's handclasp. Before finding the kid, Din had never even heard of the Force, much less invoked it as a goodbye.

"And - and with you." He replied, a little awkwardly.

His response seemed to satisfy the guard, who nodded back genially as Din closed the cockpit of the ship and turned his attention to the controls.

"Well kid, what do you think of the new ship?" Din asked, starting the engine and beginning his pre-flight checks.

"Patu!" Grogu cheered.

Din smiled. "What do you say, time to take her for a spin?"

"Ahhh." Grogu agreed, giving Din a toothy smile.

Din checked to make sure Grogu was safely secure in his spot before taking off and steering the ship towards Tatooine's atmosphere. Grogu chirped happily as they rose higher and higher in the sky, tapping his little metal ball on the glass.

Din smiled, trying not to look down at the palace below. Ignoring the sadness heavy in his stomach, he took them out of the atmosphere and into space, tapping the ship's readout as he programmed their jump.

"All right, kid." He said. "Ready?"

"Ahh!" Grogu squeaked happily, pressing his little nose to the glass. "Eh!"

Din smiled and engaged the hyperdrive, stars streaking past the viewport as they launched into hyperspace, leaving Tatooine far behind.