Suggested Listening:
Lost at Sea - Thomas Newman (From
Finding Dory) | …rubble and ash
River's Path - Murray Gold (From Doctor Who) | …alley battle
Chisolm Enrolled - James Horner & Simon Franglen (From The Magnificent Seven) | …alley allies
Lets Just Do It - Ludwig Goransson (From The Mandalorian) | ...Migs Mayfeld


The rubble and ash crunched under each footstep as Din and I silently scoured the smoking crater where the Razor Crest had been only moments before.

The Empire.

I wasn't surprised. Ever since Din had told me about his run-ins with Moff Gideon, I had known that the Empire had a far bigger presence in the galaxy than any of us were led to believe — and my upbringing had taught me that when it came to power, there were no "good guys", really — at least, that was the cynical stance my father took. What I took from it was that when any group takes power, regardless of how good they may be perceived to be, there was always more going on under the surface than most people had knowledge of.

And now… the Empire had Grogu. I scuffed my feet in frustration — I didn't even know what I was looking for. Everything was gone, reduced to black soot. I looked over at Din, and my heart sank. I knew that his silence was cover for the fact that he was terrified — and furious.

I watched him stoop down and brush some dirt away, picking something up — my heart swelled as I realized it was Grogu's silver ball. He looked over at me and held it up between his finger and thumb, like he'd done for Grogu back on the ship. I smiled, sadly.

"Did you find anything?" He asked, walking over to me.

"Wasn't much for me to find," I answered.

He nodded and looked down at the ball again, pensively.

"Din, I'm so sorry." His head lifted at the sound of his name. I didn't often use it — somehow it felt too intimate, too vulnerable. But here, it slipped out. He sighed.

"Nothing for you to be sorry for."

"No, I just mean… your ship."

He looked around at the wreckage.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered.

I knew it did — I knew he was grieving the loss of his home — but I also knew that any loss was wildly overshadowed by the one that was the hardest to even say out loud.

"And… and Grogu…" I murmured, cautiously. Just saying it out put a sinking stone in my stomach and a lump in my throat.

His body tensed, and I worried that I'd overstepped. He shook his head and let out a pained sigh.

"I failed him."

"What are you talking about, you didn't fail him!"

"He was under my care," he growled. "I'm responsible for this."

"He was under my care, too," I insisted. "I share that responsibility, Mando. We did everything we could've."

"Clearly not," he said in a flash of anger. "Between the two of us we should've been able to keep him safe."

"What were we supposed to do?" I challenged, stung.

"You came aboard to look after the kid, that's the reason you're here, you could've stayed up with him!"

"Well you could've listened to me when I told you to stop throwing yourself into a force field — then we could've had time to actually come up with a plan!"

We were squaring off, keeping our agitated voices as quiet as possible so that Boba Fett and Fennec didn't hear from where they were standing nearby. After a beat, Din sighed and looked away, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," he wavered. "I'm sorry, I don't mean any of that, this isn't your fault."

"It's not yours either," I said in a softer voice.

"He just—" he stammered quietly, his gravelly voice breaking. "He's gotta be so scared up there…"

"Hey," I soothed, putting a firm hand on his shoulder and looking up into his T-visor. "He's gonna be fine, okay? We're gonna find him, and we're gonna get him back."

I was talking to myself as much as him, trying to battle the unshakeable images of his little face creased with fear, so very far away. He nodded, and I could hear his unsteady breathing through his vocoder.

"Besides," I continued, wryly. "You know how strong he is. I bet he's up there throwing troopers around like they're anti-gravballs right now."

I heard the faintest chuckle.

"Come on," I said, turning toward where Fennec and Boba Fett were waiting respectfully. "Let's figure out how to get off this rock."

He nodded and we started walking, but my toe caught on something. Din shot a hand out to catch me as I stumbled, but I was focused on the shining glint that had caught my eye. I bent down and reached into the soot, wrapping my fingers around the beskar spear from Morgan Elspeth's city. I gently shook the dirt off and held it out to Din, a half-smile playing at my lips.

"That'll come in handy," I quipped.

He took it reverently, running his hands up the shaft and gripping it firmly.

We made our way over to the other two.

"This is all that survived," said Din, holding up the spear.

"Beskar," observed Boba Fett. "... I want you to take a look at something."

He pressed a button on his vambrace and a hologram of golden characters appeared — a code.

"My chain code has been encrypted in this armor for twenty five years." He pointed at a character low to the metal. "See, this is me. Boba Fett. This is my father, Jango Fett."

Something dawned on Din.

"Your father was a foundling?" He asked.

"Yes," answered Boba Fett. "He even fought in the Mandalorian Civil Wars."

I looked over at Fennec to see if she was as much of an outsider to these talks as me, and was taken aback to find her staring intently at my face — not the chain code, not her boss, not her old acquaintance, but me. I instantly became uneasy.

"Then that armor belongs to you," conceded Din.

Boba Fett nodded, solemnly.

"I appreciate its return."

"Then our deal is complete."

"Not quite."

"How so?"

"We agreed," Boba Fett said, looking over at Fennec. "In exchange for the return of my armor, we will ensure the safety of the child."

Din swallowed.

"The child's gone," he said in a numb voice. My heart broke a little.

"Until he is returned to you safely," declared Boba Fett. "We are in your debt."

We looked from him to Fennec, who nodded, nobly.

"Thank you," I said. "I think, if you could get us to Nevarro, we can figure out the best way to do this."

"Nevarro?" Queried Fennec.

"We have friends there," said Din, picking up my thought process instantly. "Friends with better knowledge of current Imperial matters than us."

"Can you bring us there?" I asked.

Boba Fett nodded.

"There's room for you in the Slave One," he said. "Follow me."

We turned and began walking toward his ship.

"By the way," Boba Fett said to me over his shoulder. "What do we call you?"

"Kyra," I answered, amused that no one ever seemed to ask Din's name. They were all seemingly content to assume Mandalorian was his principal identity — which perhaps it was. "My name's Kyrani Moss."

"Is it?"

Fennec's voice was so low and casual that neither of the men reacted, and she said it more like a statement than a question. I shot her a look, trying to conceal my instant alarm, but her face was calm and stoic.

Oh kriff, I thought. She knows.

Our flight in Fett's ship was mostly silent, save for occasional planning. Din decided that the best course of action was to get Cara Dune to let an old contact — Mayfeld — out to help us infiltrate an Imp base. Apparently this Mayfeld had been a sharpshooter in the Imperial Army, and I wondered how Din came to know him.

When we arrived on Navarro, we agreed that Din would go and touch base with Cara, while the rest of us would stay in the ship. I assumed that had partly to do with what I was rapidly starting to believe to be fact — that Boba Fett and Fennec Shand were criminals.

When Din left, we sat in silence for a while. Adrenaline was coursing through my body, and when my knee-bouncing and measured breathing became too much for me, I stood.

"I'm going to get some air," I announced, and cast a pointed look at Fennec before climbing out of the ship. I walked into the town, meandering through the bustling market, hoping for the first time that I was being followed. My senses told me that I was. I ducked into a dark, shrouded alleyway and quickly climbed up the crags in the wall, hiding in the shadows like a cat on a ledge. Sure enough, I watched Fennec Shand enter the alleyway and immediately register confusion when I was nowhere to be found.

I dropped down behind her. She wheeled around, immediately grabbing me and pinning me against the wall of the alley. A surge of adrenaline took over my body and I countered her, steering her to the opposite wall and slamming her against it, my elbow held dangerously against her neck. She grasped it and chuckled in surprise.

"You're feistier than you let on."

I didn't want to be doing this. I didn't want to have my weight on anyone's neck. Yet here I was, my eyes wide and flicking between hers, my nostrils flared as hot, ragged breaths shot through them like flames licking out of a dragon's snout.

"You're also surprisingly strong," Fennec breathed, her lips curled in a dangerous smile. "You get that from Daddy?"

Rage coursed through my veins, and I fought back the urge to pin her tighter — That's what Father would've done.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I growled.

"You sure about that, Brui?"

Her eyes flashed as she watched me react.

"That's you, isn't it? The missing Brui heiress?"

I shook my head.

"No," I said in measured tones. "You've got the wrong girl."

"Really," she smiled, her gaze dropping down to my arm across her throat. "So all this is about something else?"

Before I had a chance to think of a response, she had grabbed my arm and twisted it, the painful wrench sending shockwaves through my muscles. We fought, equally matched in skill but I could tell instantly that hers were in more frequent, more polished use — I was going to be bested, and quickly.

I'm not going back there, I thought desperately.

Throwing her off of me, I drew my blaster and trained it right between her eyes. She froze, looking up at the barrel, then back to me. Slowly, she lifted her hands.

"Does the Mandalorian know who you are?" She asked.

"I'm not telling you anything," I replied, coldly.

"Does he know how much you're worth?" she narrowed her eyes. "I find it hard to believe a hunter of his experience would knowingly harbor a bounty that valuable—"

"Then you didn't pay close enough attention the first time you met him," I said, darkly. The implication that Din would ever betray me — a deep-seated fear, no matter how comfortable I got — sent a fresh flash of hot anger through me.

She raised an amused eyebrow.

"I pay attention, though," I continued. "I hear you speak. I have no doubt you'd sell someone like me out if the price was right."

She took a step forward and I tightened my grip on the blaster.

"One more step and you're dead."

She looked into my face, searching it.

"No," she said eventually, that small smile creeping back across her face. "No, I don't think so."

"I'll do it," I threatened, my jaw clenched. "I'm not going back, I'll drop you where you stand."

"I don't think you will," she said evenly. "Two things I noticed about you very quickly: you're a hell of a shot… and you're inoperably burdened by conscience."

I gritted my teeth as I could feel beads of sweat slipping down my temple. She doesn't know me, I thought furiously. She doesn't know what I've done, what I'm capable of. My hand shook as it clenched the blaster, and I didn't dare blink. Finally, I let my arm drop in defeat.

...She was right.

"Thanks," she said with an air of relieved amusement. "I would've hated having to kill you before you had the chance."

I laughed, despite myself.

"How did you figure it out?" I asked, my heart still hammering.

"I know your face," she replied. "I've seen the ransom holograms. Figured a prize that big was worth memorizing."

"Funny, I've been pretty lucky so far."

"Yeah, well… I may have a more personal connection."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I've done a few contract jobs for your family, back in the day," She said, causing my breath to speed. "Don't think we ever crossed paths, I think it was after your time."

"I would've remembered you," I said. "So… what do we do now?"

She considered me for a moment.

"I'm not gonna cash you in."

"Why?" I asked, immediately suspicious.

"Because," she said, cocking her head to indicate we should start heading back. "I don't like your dad."

I hesitated for a moment, then we started walking back through the market. Her voice had so much venom at the mention of my father that I couldn't help but believe her.

"Take a number," I muttered wryly.

When we neared the ship, I stopped her.

"I noticed two thing about you, too," I said, seriously. "You're mercenary… and you're loyal."

She nodded.

"So lets make a deal." I stuck out my hand. "You promise — you pledge — not to sell me out, and I will be your ally in return. I'm loyal, too. I give you my word that if you keep me safe, I'll go to the mat for you."

She took my hand and shook it, firmly.

"Deal."

I decided to trust her at her word.

She looked past me over my shoulder and smiled in recognition. I turned to see Din and Cara Dune walking toward us through the market, purposefully. I raised a hand in greeting.

"By the way," she said quietly. "That's what he likes about you."

"What?" I asked.

"That conscience," she said with a knowing smirk. "You're two peas in a pod."

I was getting tired of people looking at me like that — like they knew more than I did about my partnership with Din — but I didn't have time to protest.

"Kyra," greeted Cara warmly. "Good to see you again."

"And you," I replied.

"Cara Dune, this is Fennec Shand," said Din. They nodded in greeting.

Boba Fett emerged from the opposite direction — Looks like he disappeared off the ship for his own reasons, too, I thought suspiciously, but I decided it wasn't my business.

"And this is Boba Fett," said Din, sounding a little unsure of the name. "He and Fennec have pledged to help us rescue the child."

"Alright," said Boba in a gravelly voice when all hellos had been exhausted. "Let's go pick us up a prisoner."

"So how do you know this guy again?" I asked under my breath as the Slave One descended toward the surface of Karthon. Din and I were seated next to each other in the back of the cockpit watching the Chop Fields emerge through the clouds.

"Migs Mayfeld," rumbled Din with a steely tone, tilting his head toward me. "I met him on a job a while ago. Prison break."

"That's ironic."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I guess so."

"Can we trust him?"

"Not as far as we can throw him," he said, shaking his head. He glanced over at me. "And between us… I don't know how far that would be."

I shot him an offended look and he chuckled.

"Not as far as we can sweet talk him and shoot him from fifty yards away, hows that?" He murmured in a low, teasing voice. He was so serious so much of the time, I always found myself caught off guard by these little moments of levity. I'd almost think they were flirtations if I didn't know him to be such a solitary, pious creature.

"We could always try trusting him as far as we can use a flame thrower instead of actual skills," I retorted, and the immediate snicker that rumbled out of his vocoder brought a smile to my face.

"Coming down," announced Boba Fett and the ship swiveled on its axis, coming to a graceful landing on the edge of the prison field. Cara left first, and as Fennec and Boba descended the ramp, Din turned to me as I unstrapped.

"By the way, the last time I saw this guy, he left me in a prison cell to die, and then I escaped and locked him and his friends away and set them up for capture, so… don't be surprised if it's a little icy."

"Wow," I murmured. "You really do make friends everywhere you go, don't you?"

As we descended the ramp I heard a nasal voice.

"Woah… for a second there I thought you were this other guy."

He was talking to Boba Fett, who was standing proudly in his armor. When Din stepped into view, I saw the prisoner's face turn white. He was middling height with a patchy red beard and a weathered visage that was currently registering a complex mix of fear, anger, and guilt.

I decided the guilt was a good sign.

Din approached him.

"Mayfeld."

"Hey, Mando," he wavered with a feeble attempt at a smile. "Long time. So, what… you came here to kill me?"

"All you need to know," interjected Cara in a dominant voice. "Is that I bent a lot of rules to bring you along."

"Why am I so lucky?" He asked.

"Because you're Imperial," she answered immediately.

"Hey," he said defensively. "That was a long time ago, alright?"

"But you still know your Imperial clearances and protocols," said Din. "Don't you?"

Mayfeld's brow knit together in confused curiosity. Wordlessly, we made our way back up the ramp, confident he would follow — and we were right.

We assembled in the passenger deck.

"We need coordinates for Moff Gideon's cruiser," commanded Din next to me as the ship lifted into the air.

"Moff Gideon?" Mayfeld scoffed. "Yeah, forget it. Just take me back to the scrapyard, I'm not doin' that."

"They have his kid." Cara leveled a steely gaze on the prisoner, who raised his eyebrows.

"The little green guy?" He asked.

"Yeah," said Cara. "'the little green guy'."

Din and I exchanged a look.

"So…" mused Mayfeld. "I help you guys get him back, you guys let me go?"

"That's not how this works," said Cara, shaking her head.

"Well then what's in it for me?"

"You get a better view."

He turned this over in his head and reluctantly shrugged.

"Alright, but here's the thing. I can't get those coordinates unless I have access to an internal Imperial terminal."

I leaned forward on my knees, studying him intently. He looked at me and shifted uncomfortably.

"I believe there's one on Morak."

"Morak?" Mando sounded mistrustful. "There's nothing on Morak."

"It's a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?" Mayfeld muttered. "If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates."

I narrowed my eyes.

"And what are you looking at, cutie?" He spat, defensive under my scrutinizing gaze. I cocked an eyebrow.

"Easy," warned Din in a dangerous voice. Mayfeld looked from him to me and back.

"Oh, I get it," he said with an amused smirk. "Got yourself a new little girlfriend, eh, Mando? She's definitely a different type from Xi'an, I'll give you that."

I looked over at Din with raised eyebrows. Xi'an, eh? Well then, I thought with an involuntary stab of jealousy. Maybe he's not as pious as I assumed…

Din didn't answer, but I could feel anger radiating from him.

"Do you want to go back to prison?" Asked Cara incredulously.

Mayfeld's smile dropped.

"No, ma'am," he muttered.

After a dangerous moment of silence, Din put his hand on the comm button.

"Fett, punch in the coordinates to Morak."

"Copy that," came the reply, and within moments we had swooped into a hyperspace lane.