Din and the other Mandalorians flew to the top of the prison, scenes of chaos unfolding around them as they passed level after level. The guards who had not sided with the prisoners were fighting back. At least the killing floor could not be turned against the prisoners. But the Imperials trying to retake the prison above might try to undo that.
A broken window led to the control room and the levels with the guard quarters. The clone Sixty and Burg turned to confront Din and the others as they landed, but lowered their weapons when they saw who they were. "Mandalorians," Sixty whispered.
"Look at 'em all," said Burg. "Who knew there were so many?" But Woves was too busy staring at Sixty to respond.
"More of these damned clones," he said, drawing a glare from Sixty.
"What's happening?" asked Din. On his back Grogu still slept.
"The Imps have taken the hangar and the outer warehouses," said Sixty. "We've barricaded them in, or maybe it's more like we're barricaded in. But I don't know how long we can hold them off." The Imperial-built doors at the main gate were blast-proof up to a point, and the hangar had been carved out of the mountain with solid rock walls. But soon the Imps would bring heavy equipment to break in.
Din made his way to Cara, Mayfeld, and Fazzakkaar. Mayfeld looked up at Din in clear relief. Then his eyes widened when he saw Woves and the others. "Holy shit," he said. "Nice reinforcements. Where the hell they come from?"
"Mandalore, of course," said Woves impatiently.
"We've got a good defensive position," said Cara, giving no signs of being awestruck by the newcomers. "But they just keep coming with landers full of fresh troops. We can't keep this up much longer." They were interrupted by blaster fire as stormtroopers tried to force open a secondary door. Fazzakkaar snarled. "What's going on downstairs?"
"Greef Karga is here with a band of Guild hunters. They're holding the fort down there."
Cara smiled a big, genuine smile. "That old fox."
"Any word from the New Republic?" asked Din.
"Oh, the New Republic is coming to save us," said Woves. "That's rich."
Cara's face hardened. "Great. Sarcastic Mandalorians. Just what I need."
Din sighed to himself. But before he could say anything, a harsh shriek echoed throughout the prison over the announcement system, causing many of the defenders to wince. Grogu woke up with a start. Then a familiar, hated voice spoke.
"Attention inmates, traitors, and assorted scum," said Varro.
"I guess we have to decide which category we belong in," said Mayfeld.
"I speak to you from the Imperial cruiser Justice. Your rebellion in this facility is only temporary. In less than twenty minutes we will reactivate the floors and destroy every living being inside."
"Can she do that?" asked Woves, removing his helmet.
"It's her prison," said Din. "Her people must have enough technical ability to counteract the Engineer."
"Your only chance of preserving your lives is immediate, total, and unconditional surrender. Then you will be treated mercifully—much more mercifully than you deserve—and again be put to work for the glory of reclaiming the Empire."
"Great pep talk," muttered Cara. "Will anyone fall for it?"
"The prisoners are desperate and exhausted, and live in terror of the floors," said Sixty. "It's all very well to say death is preferable, quite another to actually face it."
"To the guards still loyal, I regret this profoundly and urge you to keep fighting. Avenge the murder of our beloved Mr. Merrix and take back this facility from this disgusting ragtag. To the so-called New Republic, consider the futility of your position. You will die, and the factories in this prison will once again help the Empire become great again. To the bounty hunters who have decided for some reason to join this fight, simply leave. There will be no profit in your deaths. To the misguided Mandalorians…" Her voice grew hard. "Expect no mercy from me. You will pay for your murder of Moff Gideon."
Grogu stirred on Din's back. "Baaaaahhh," he said in disgust.
"You said it," agreed Din.
Woves snorted. "I would have murdered Gideon gladly a hundred times and paid for the privilege."
"Gallia Varro out."
"She's bluffing," said Mayfeld. "If she could kill everyone here, she just would have done it."
"Maybe she wants to reclaim him," said Din, nodding at the Isidore, the Gideon clone. The young man sat between the clones One Thousand and Two Thousand, clearly frightened by the chaos and Gallo's voice. Occasionally One Thousand or Two Thousand would murmur something soothing.
"Is that what I think it is?" asked Woves, pointing at the clone, and the hostility in his voice and face made Isidore recoil.
"Leave him alone," said One Thousand.
Was everyone going to keep squabbling? Din couldn't find it in himself to hate this helpless being, but they would need to figure out what to do about him. He put a hand on Woves' shoulder. "Not now. We have to take the fight to them."
"Dad always said the best defense is a good offense," said Mayfeld, nodding in agreement.
"Mandalorian! Are you there?"
"Engineer," he answered. "Did you hear that?"
"Yes. And I know how they can carry out their threat. They're using a sub-relay in the hangar. We must destroy it." Through the comms link she sent a small schematic, which Din displayed in a holo on his vambrace. The others craned their necks to see. It was a simple, gray, boxy item tucked behind ductwork on the cave roof.
"That's tiny!" said Burg in dismay.
"Luckily we have an expert trigger man," said Din.
Everyone turned to look at Mayfeld. He exhaled, but the prospect of using his skillset seemed to put him on familiar territory, so he didn't protest. "Fine," he said. "But you people better fucking cover me."
"Oh, we'll cover you all right," said Cara.
Quickly they formed a plan, then got themselves in place. They would stage a full-on assault into the hangar at a loading entrance where the Imps were stretched a little thin. The distraction would allow Mayfeld to get into position long enough to take his shot from the main gate. Din took his place shoulder to shoulder with Woves and the other Mandalorians. Burg, Fazzakkaar, and some of the other prisoners came next, with Cara and a group of New Republic rangers under her command. Mayfeld, Sixty, and several other rangers stood ready at the main gate.
"This is it, Grogu," said Din. "Ready for a last fight?"
"Oh, esss, boo," he said. The nap seemed to have refreshed him.
"Your head okay?"
Grogu patted the bacta patch. "Grogu hoookey. Dissss da waaah."
"This is the way," echoed Din.
"This is the way," said Woves, giving the boy a grave nod as he replaced his helmet. The other Mandalorians murmured their assent. Woves brought out a flash bomb he had taken from the Imps down at the bottom level. "Nice little toy," he said, turning to a woman with a Nite Owl crest next to him. "Maximum smoke. Maraj, would you do the honors?" She nodded and went to the door controls, opening them barely a crack. Swiftly Woves threw the grenade. Din's fingers rested lightly on the trigger on his blaster in his right hand, a solid club in his left, every muscle in his body tensing as he readied himself. Grogu curled behind his helmet like a tightly coiled spring.
A soft thump.
Then Meraj opened the doors entirely. Din ignited his jetpack and led the way through the door through the smoke, firing at the temporarily blinded stormtroopers. The others followed, some on foot, some in the air.
Din landed in the center of a group of Imperial shock troops, their white armor blending into the smoke. Rapidly he shot three. A fourth sprang up but Grogu raised his hand and the trooper fell back as if pushed, giving Din time to turn and fire. Fighting at close quarters now, almost too close for blasters. Two more came at Din and Grogu now with electrostaffs from opposite sides. Din shot one, Grogu tripped the other and Din turned to club him to the floor. The Imps kept coming but Din was now in a battle rhythm, aches and tiredness forgotten in the rush of adrenaline. He and his son moved together as a perfect team, just like on Mandalore when they had both defeated the red-clad guards.
And it was exhilarating, he had to admit. It was thrilling to work together so closely they felt like one.
The smoke cleared. Grogu swept another stormtrooper off his feet while another tried lunging with a small knife. Grogu gave a small cry of surprise, but the knife snapped off harmlessly against the beskar mail and the hapless Imp was tossed against a stack of crates. Around them their friends struggled and fought. From the corner of his vision he saw Cara shoot two Imps in rapid succession, then turn to crack another in the head with the butt of her rifle. Fazzakkaar and Burg roared as they cut through stormtroopers. Woves swooped overhead, firing.
"Mayfeld, might be a good time to take your shot," panted Din over the comms channel. No answer. "Mayfeld!"
"Hang on."
"You mudscuffer, what the hell are you waiting for?" growled Cara as she blocked another trooper with an electrostaff nearby. "Take it!"
"Shut up, willya? Three…"
Blaster fire pinged off Din's left pauldron like a punch on his healing injury. "Mayfeld…"
"Two…"
Din moved to fire once more but the Imp-made weapon jammed. Oh great. He threw it at an Imp's head and turned his flamethrower on a second, but nothing. The fuel was exhausted, finally.
"One." A whine and an explosion far up above, on the roof of the cave. Blue shocks crackled along the ductwork, followed by acrid black smoke. "Got it. No thanks to your interruptions."
The Engineer's shrill voice now. "You've done it, young man! Mandalorian, listen to me. The floor is now totally under the control of your vambrace only. Use it!"
Din stopped, held out his left arm, and felt for the controls. The floor setting was only on one, enough to cause pain. Din's heart pounded and he paused for breath. They had done it. He could turn it on any minute, give the Imps a good nasty shock, if not kill them…
…and he found that he didn't want to.
He was worried about hurting his friends in the surrounding melee, to be sure, but that wasn't the whole reason. And it wasn't exactly as if he was full of compassion for Imps. Mandalorians were all for turning the enemy's weapons against them.
But this killing floor, after all he had seen and heard and experienced, after all of the cruelty and pain and death…it felt profoundly dishonorable, even immoral to use this soul-corrupting weapon himself.
Even if it meant victory.
Din thought of Kino Loy's body back at the Arena and his harrowing tale of Narkina 5. He felt, too, Grogu's bright stare on him even though he could not see the boy from this angle.
"No," he said. "Engineer, destroy it. Make it so no one—NO ONE—can ever use it again."
"Is that such a—oof!—such a great idea?" yelled Cara.
"WHAT!" yelled Mayfeld. "Are you SERIOUS? Have you gone CRAZY?!"
"Are you sure about that, Mandalorian?" asked the Engineer.
"Yes," said Din. "I'm sure."
The lights of the Panopticon flickered and went dark. The fighting briefly paused as everyone looked up, some fearfully, some hopefully. Then they came on again, but more dimly.
"It is done, Mandalorian. The controlling circuits throughout the facility have been effectively melted. For better or for worse I cannot say."
"For better," said Din.
A roar came from the sunny blue sky outside the hangar. And then a calm, well-known voice over the comms channel.
"This is Teva, Adelphi Rangers."
Din shut his eyes.
"Hope we're not too late to the party."
"Just in time," said Cara. "Think you could help us out at the hangar?"
"Glad to. Might wanna duck."
An x-wing fighter roared past the open hangar, firing with extraordinary precision on a group of Imps leaving a lander. The rest of the stormtroopers, dismayed, fell back to the troop carrier, but another x-wing disabled its engines.
"Good shooting, Nik!" said Teva. "Dune, Mando, can you take over from here? There's a heavily armed cruiser plus a squadron of tie fighters. More help's on the way but we're a tiny bit outnumbered."
Din looked around the hangar. There were some cargo and transport ships…and an old-fashioned two-seat C-5 star destroyer. Not quite like an x-wing but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Need a hand? I see a spare C-5."
"Be my guest," answered Teva. "That cruiser keeps spitting out damn tie fighters. We think our friend Gallia Varro is on board. It would be nice to disable the ship and take her alive for questioning."
"I think I have an idea," said Din. "I'm going on board."
"Hang on, I didn't say 'take down an Imperial cruiser single-handed,'" protested Teva.
"Maybe not single handed." Mayfeld came up, rifle slung over his shoulder. "Got room for one more?" he asked.
"Absolutely," said Din.
"Two men taking down a cruiser. Much better."
"Time to fly, pal," Din told Grogu. The boy wriggled in excitement. He turned to Cara. "Got this mop-up?"
"We do now," she said. An odd shadow crossed her face. "And for what it's worth…I think you made the right call. Some weapons are just too much."
At the pilot seat of the C-5, Din prepared for takeoff. Grogu sat on his lap, carefully strapped in. A little awkward but there were only two seats. The boy watched closely, and Din wondered what kind of a pilot Grogu might be one day. "Not as nice as the N-1, is it?"
"Nooooo."
"It's traditional at this point for me to ask whether you should really take a kid with you," said Mayfeld.
"And you know my answer."
"Right. I guess the toddler can handle himself."
Soon they were out of the hangar and into the twisting canyons surrounding the Panopticon. The controls were sluggish. Din missed the N-1, but even more he missed the old Razor Crest. Around a sharp bend they came up behind two tie fighters pursuing an x-wing. It looked like Teva's. Swiftly Din targeted the tie fighter's right ion engine and it went hurtling against the canyon wall.
"Thanks for the assist," said Teva.
"No problem," said Din.
"We'll do our best to handle these tie fighters. The fleet's on the way but we need to buy time. When they drop out of light speed, we need that cruiser disabled. And we need to get your Miss Varro."
"Understood." They rose out of the canyon and escaped the atmosphere, Mayfeld and Din talking over their rough plan. The old C-5 rattled.
"Great ship we got here," said Mayfeld.
"Perfect for us."
"Just like old times, huh?"
"Which old times might that be?"
"The two of us pretending to be Empire, sneaking in with a crappy vehicle." He looked sideways at Din. "I am NOT referring to that shitshow with Qin. Speaking of crappy vehicles, whatever happened to that old Razor Crest?"
"Vaporized by the Empire, when they took Grogu," said Din tersely. Grogu's ear drooped.
"Aw, man, sorry I asked."
Looming against the stars, they saw it—the dark shape of an Imperial light cruiser. Grogu snuggled closer to Din. "You'll be with me," muttered Din. "And Mr. Mayfeld. We'll both keep you safe. Understand?" Grogu said nothing but looked up at his father and gave a determined nod. Mayfeld frowned. "He had kind of a rough time the last time he was on a ship like that," Din explained.
"I'll bet."
Din switched on the ship-to-ship comms on the C-5's control panel and nodded at Mayfeld. Mayfeld cleared his throat. "Justice," he said in his best good-little-Imp voice. "This is C-5-146. Request permission to board."
"C-5-146. Permission denied."
"Justice, I have a prisoner. Two, actually. Tell the commander there's beskar involved."
Silence, then "Permission granted."
Mayfeld switched off. "How many times are they gonna fall for this?" he asked.
"The Empire didn't get where they are by being clever, Mayfeld."
"Tell me about it," Mayfeld answered as he pulled on the guard helmet he brought.
When they pulled into the hangar they were greeted by a squad of troopers surrounding the craft. Mayfeld popped the hood.
"Get up, Mando," he snarled. "Or the kid gets it."
Din stood obediently with his hands raised. Mayfeld followed, clutching Grogu. He held a blaster (with an empty cartridge) aimed menacingly at the child. Grogu swooned dramatically.
The stormtroopers stepped back but kept their weapons trained on Din. "Get down, you," an officer ordered. Din did as he was told. "Move. That way."
"I wanna go straight to Miss Varro," said Mayfeld. "I want my reward."
The stormtrooper officer snorted. "This way."
They walked from the hangar through the twisting corridors of the cruiser. The ship seemed undermanned, chaotic—most of the troops were planetside or in fighters. Typical Imperial over-engineering, familiar from their assault on Gideon's ship. The thought made Din's stomach tighten. He could not see Mayfeld's face behind his helmet but could feel his tension. A criminal, an Imperial deserter who had helped destroy a critical facility. He was doomed if they saw through this ruse. All of them were.
But Grogu was still playing his part of frightened hostage with aplomb, striking a series of heartrending poses. It was probably helping the boy cope with the terrifying memories this place brought back. For the same reason, Din worked to focus on their surroundings. Don't think about the perfect despair he had felt as he poked around the ruins of the Razor Crest. Don't think about the hideous saber held above Grogu's head, tiny manacles binding him...
And then they came to the bridge. A small skeleton crew manning their stations. A uniformed Imperial lieutenant turned to face them—bland, officious, cold.
"Where's Miss Varro?" asked Mayfeld.
"Too busy for the likes of you," said the lieutenant with icy contempt.
"He wants his reward," said the stormtrooper officer, nodding at Mayfeld.
"Oh, you'll get yours all right," said the lieutenant with an unpleasant smile.
"Funny, I was about to say the same thing," said Mayfeld as he dropped to his knees. Grogu opened one eye. Din knelt. His last three whistling birds flew out and hit three Imps. Mayfeld tossed away the empty blaster, pulled out one that was fully charged, and shot two more. The stormtrooper officer, bigger than the others, broke out his stun stick and swung hard at Din. He was better trained than the others. Din could parry his first blow but the next hit him solidly in the back. He gasped from the pain and briefly struggled for breath.
"No," said Grogu from Mayfeld's arms.
The officer tripped over his own feet. Din caught him by the neck with his whipcord and slammed him hard against the wall, leaving no more Imps standing. The bridge crew and the lieutenant, unarmed and uninterested in sacrificing themselves to the cause, cowered. Not true believers like some of them. Din relieved the down stormtroopers of their blasters.
"Nice performance," said Mayfeld to Grogu. The boy jumped out of Mayfeld's arms. With extreme drama, he collapsed to the deck, tiny arms and legs akimbo and eyes shut. Then he opened one eye to make sure they both saw.
"That's enough, buddy," said Din. Good that the helmet was hiding his slight grin. With the sigh of an underappreciated artist, Grogu hopped back up to perch on Din's shoulder. Din looked over at Mayfeld. "'The kid gets it?'"
"It worked, didn't it?" answered Mayfeld, securing the door. "So where is Miss Varro?" No one said anything.
"Maybe you didn't hear his question," said Din, towering over the quivering lieutenant. "Where's Varro?" As if in answer, the ship seemed to tremble.
"She's not here. I swear. That was her escape shuttle jettisoning."
"Shit," said Mayfeld.
"Teva, come in," said Din. "We've secured the bridge. But they say Varro's escaped in a shuttle."
"Understood," answered Teva. Explosions and the shriek of a tie fighter in the background. "Dammit. They have us outnumbered. We're just a small patrol—"
"Sir, another ship just came out of light speed," another New Republic pilot broke in excitedly. "It's an x-wing!"
"X-wing fighter. Please identify yourself."
There was a short pause. "Red Five."
The voice was…familiar. Grogu squirmed wildly.
"Red FIVE?" asked one of the pilots. "THE Red Five?"
"Can't be," said another.
Teva's voice sounded stunned. "Uh. Red Five?"
"Yes. The New Republic fleet is coming behind me. How can I help us buy time, Captain?"
"We've got our hand full down here. Can you help me handle these tie fighters in the canyons?"
"On it," said the familiar voice. The newcomer sank into the atmosphere and joined the fight alongside Teva's small patrol. But they were still badly outnumbered.
Grogu now stood on the cruiser's control panel. "Is that who I think it is?" asked Din quietly. In answer the boy pointed at the viewscreen, then turned back to Din in triumph. A helpless moment passed. Din itched to be in the pilot's seat again, even in that inadequate C-5, but they had to stay in control here. He turned to Mayfeld.
"You know how to use this ship's cannons?"
"I mean, I guess? Gun's a gun."
Well, not really, but Din didn't argue. "Okay, you take the aft cannon, I'll take fore." He ordered the Imperial crew members out of their seats. Five of them huddled in the corner. "None of you move. Grogu, keep an eye on the crew." Given an assignment, Grogu turned away from the viewscreen and bounded towards the captives. He glared up at them fiercely. The captive crew huddled together even closer.
Mayfeld and Din aimed the cannons at the swarming tie fighters surrounding the ship. It took them a while to understand that their own ship was firing on them, but finally they began to strike back. The ship shuddered under their blows. Blaster fire sounded outside the bridge door—the rest of the crew were beginning to figure out what was going on and were trying to break in.
"Ship's coming out of lightspeed," said Mayfeld. "If it's more Imps, we're done."
A ship came into view.
And Din felt his shoulders sag with relief.
"It's a New Republic cruiser. No, two of them."
An incoming message lit up the ship's comms panel. "Imperial ship," said a woman's firm voice. "This is the New Republic cruiser Bail Organa. Stand down immediately or we will open fire." Grogu turned toward the screen again, his ears perking up at the voice.
"Bail Organa, this is…" Din paused. "This is Din Djarin on the Imperial ship Justice. I'm a contractor working for Captain Teva. I'm here with some…" He paused again. "Some friends. We've taken control of the bridge. We can use some support here."
"Understood. Standby to be boarded. Captain Teva, situation."
"Senator!" Teva's voice was astonished again. "Uh, glad you're here. We can use more reinforcements planetside. The facility is pretty much secure on the inside but we're taking heavy fire from Imperial fighters."
Mayfeld and Din continued to fire on the tie fighters around the cruiser, but they were falling away, dismayed at the New Republic force.
"Understood," said the woman calmly.
"No!" cried the lieutenant. He made a run for the door. Or tried to. He tripped over nothing and fell spectacularly to his back where he lay groaning.
"I told you not to move," said Din. "Mayfeld, you got this?"
"Yup. Think it's all over but the shouting."
Din rose and went to Grogu, training a stolen blaster on the Imps, who had learned their lesson. The boy leapt up to rest comfortably in his free arm.
"I think we did it, ad'ika," Din said softly. He exhaled deeply. "We did it." He touched his helmet to the boy's tiny forehead, and his son leaned into the contact with closed eyes.
They stood that way for a long time.