Suggested Listening:
A Gift - Joseph Shirley, Ludwig Goransson (from The Book of Boba Fett) | ...i spy
Arose - Thomas Newman (from American Beauty) | ...make sure he's protected
They Called It - Alan Silvestri (from Avengers) | ...by invitation of fennec shand
Two Paths Diverged - Joseph Shirley, Ludwig Goransson (from The Book of Boba Fett) | ...mos pelgo
Beth's Secret - Thomas Newman (from Little Women) | ...the remains

"I spy… with my little eye…"

"… If you say 'something green' you're going in the pond," muttered Din drily.

I chuckled and pulled my feet up onto the bench, hooking my elbows around my knees and tilting my face up toward the clear blue sky.

We had been waiting on Ossus for what felt like quite a while. Luckily, the planet where Grogu carried out his training was beautiful — lush and viridescent, soft with plant life undulating in the gentle breeze that carried the scent of something floral and mossy and fresh. I hadn't known what to picture when Grogu departed with the Jedi back on Gideon's ship, but finding his new home to be so very, very green seemed fitting.

"What's taking so long?" Din's voice was low and agitated as he shifted his weight on the makeshift bench we were sharing. "Are we really supposed to just wait here?"

I shrugged.

"You could try asking him again." I nodded toward the astromech droid that was standing stoically nearby.

"It's off," Din grumbled. I chuckled again, directing my attention back to the rather cute spidery droids before us that appeared to be building some sort of stone frame.

"You know, I think this is good for you," I remarked wryly. "Droid exposure therapy."

I looked over at him with a playful smile, but it faltered as I took in his tense frame, his head slightly slumped as he stared at the ground.

"Sorry," I murmured.

He shook his head slightly.

"I'm just… I hope he's doing good."

I knew what was going unsaid. I hope he is safe, I hope he is happy, but also I hope he's glad to see us. I hope he hasn't forgotten about us. It was a nervous sentiment I shared.

"I can't imagine he isn't enjoying exploring his gifts in a place like this," I said warmly. "… And he'll be even happier when he sees you."

He looked at me and I could feel his figure relax ever so slightly. I imagined his face softening… maybe even a gentle smile. I had never seen him smile before — I wondered if I ever would — but it felt wistfully comforting to picture it.

"Please. You're the fun one," he replied with a dry humor. "I bet he waddles right past me when he sees you."

I laughed and looked back out at the verdant vista before us.

"Do you think…" I pondered. "… do you think he'll be surprised? About us I mean?"

I looked back at Din, who let out a thoughtful exhale. He put one hand next to mine on the bench, letting two fingers drape over mine.

"Probably not as surprised as we were."

I smiled and shook my head, closing my eyes against the fresh breeze, relishing the subtle touch.

Suddenly, in a snap of movement, his blaster was drawn and trained at something behind me. I froze, my breath catching in my chest. I slowly looked over my shoulder.

There stood the regal figure of Ahsoka Tano herself, looking just as mysterious and powerful as she had back on Corvus.

"You," murmured Din, lowering his blaster. "I didn't think we'd see you here."

"I'm an old friend of the family," she said with an enigmatic smirk.

"I thought you weren't going to help train Grogu," I said, still processing the surprise of seeing her.

"I'm not," she said plainly, her arms crossed. "Master Luke is."

"Then… what are you doing here?" Din sounded fed up with trying to figure out the Jedi's rules. I wondered privately if he had any idea that his own culture's seemingly disparate codes and morés often prompted a similar reaction.

"That's my question for you," she parried, walking toward us with an easy, curious gate.

Uh oh, I thought as we cautiously stood. I feel like we're in trouble at the principal's office.

"We're here to see the kid," said Din.

Ahsoka smiled elusively and placed a warm hand on the round cap of the astromech droid — which was now wide awake and shaking happily.

"That's why R2 brought you both to me instead."

Din and I exchanged a look of burgeoning concern.

"We'd like to know how he's doing," I ventured, aiming for a diplomatic tone.

"He's doing fine," replied Ahsoka, fixing her azure eyes on me. Her expression was so inscrutable it was intimidating.

"We want to see him," said Din, far more bluntly.

Ahsoka sighed patiently, looking almost amused by his gruffness. She dropped her arms to her sides and began taking a few steps into the woods.

"Come take a walk with me."

We exchanged another look and I could feel the frustrated eye roll through his helmet.

"I warned you when we met that your attachment to him would be difficult to let go of," mused Ahsoka as we made our way through the spindly green bamboo stalks that made up the forest.

"He was a Mandalorian foundling in our care," rumbled Din. "We just wanna make sure he's safe."

"There is nowhere in the galaxy more safe than here with Luke."

Din made to speak again, but I could sense it was going to be more confrontational than would be helpful, so I held up a gentle hand.

"We just want to understand," I said carefully. "Why is it that you're alright with Luke's decision when you yourself said he shouldn't be trained?"

Ahsoka came to a stop and turned to face us, heaving a thoughtful sigh.

"Because it was his choice," she said after a moment. "I do not control the wants of others."

"Then its our choice to go and see him," challenged Din. I watched this land with Ahsoka.

"Of course," she said, putting her hands behind her back pensively. "If that is what you both wish."

We watched as she slowly turned her gaze through a clearing in the trees. Atop a mossy hill in the distance were two figures. One, the tall, slim Jedi we had met before, bending down to say something to the tiny silhouette of the other.

Grogu.

My heart leapt at the sight, even though he was so very small in the distance. I could make out the shape of his waggling ears and a lump appeared in my throat as I remembered eagerly how wonderful it felt to hold him, to have his little hand wrapped around my finger or clutching my jacket tightly as I carried him. I couldn't wait to see his wide, dark eyes and hear his cheerful little babbles, simultaneously so innocent and still so bizarrely wise.

My hand involuntarily flew out to clutch the fabric of Din's shirt between his vambrace and shoulderplate. His hand clutched my forearm and he took purposeful strides toward the hill, taking me with him.

"Are you doing this for Grogu?" Ahsoka's voice halted us in our steps. "… Or are you doing this for yourselves?"

My grin faltered. I heard Din hiss a frustrated sigh. He released my arm and reached back to retrieve a little parcel from the back of his utility belt.

"I just…" he grumbled, holding the cloth-wrapped gift up so that Ahsoka could see. "I wanna give him this."

"Why? So he will remember you?"

"No…" Din sounded frustrated that he even had to explain. "As a Mandalorian foundling, he should have this. It's his right."

"Foundling…" mused Ahsoka, crossing her arms again. "Perhaps he is a Padawan now."

I felt my eyes rolling before I had the chance to police them. Ahsoka's eyes flicked to me, too poised to look taken aback, but I could tell she had caught me.

"Sorry," I said, meaning it. "I don't mean any disrespect. I just… I think we three all have very different perspectives. I don't… I come from a world very different from yours. And from his. I don't understand why he can't be both a Foundling and a…"

I trailed off, afraid to get the word wrong.

"Padawan," repeated Ahsoka reverently.

"Either way," said Din softly, looking down at the little package. "This armor will protect him."

I looked up the hill again, squinting to find Grogu's little figure again. He was right there… and yet it felt as though a great crevasse was piercing the ground between us, shifting us worlds apart once more.

"If you're set on it," said Ahsoka, a thin thread of sympathy in her voice. "Allow me to deliver it."

I looked from her to Din, pain creasing my face. He was still looking down at the armor in his hand, as though an alternative option would appear beside it. But it didn't.

He looked past me to where Grogu and Luke were working.

"We came all this way," he said, his voice so small and vulnerable it threatened to break my heart. "He's right there…"

I spun around and looked at Ahsoka, begging her silently to give us permission to do what we came to do. She sighed and took a step toward Din, placing a gentle hand on his shoulderplate.

"Grogu misses you a great deal," she said, sending an ache through my chest. "If he sees you, it will only make things harder for him."

I looked over at Din, solemnly. After a moment, he looked back at me, and I saw his shoulders slump a little, his body registering resolved disappointment.

"Make sure he's protected," he rumbled, handing the parcel to Ahsoka.

She took it respectfully. Din looked at me and jerked his head, signalling for us to go. I took a final look at where Grogu's little shape was sat contentedly on the hill and fought the pricking of my eyes.

I hurried through the trees to catch up with Din, who was taking purposeful strides back to where the ship was parked.

"Hey," I said, matching his stride. "We could push for it. They won't physically stop us from seeing him."

"She's right," he grumbled. "She's always right, have you noticed that? It's annoying."

I chuckled, despite myself.

"I just can't help but think…" I trailed off, not quite sure how I wanted to put it.

"What?" Din said, coming to a halt and turning to me. I looked up at him and sighed.

"If he is as empowered with The Force as Ahsoka and Luke and everybody seems to think, then it's a good thing he's being trained — that kind of power unfocused can't be good. But…" I rubbed my neck and lowered my voice. "Is it a good thing to strip a child of their connections? Of their f—" I faltered nervously, before deciding to commit to the word choice. "… Family?"

The word felt foreign in my mouth. "Family" had meant something so dark to me for so long, I was surprising myself by using it now. Not to mention, I hadn't described the three of us as such out loud. I swallowed nervously, hoping that it wouldn't land wrong with Din who had thus far seemed wary of labeled commitment and attachment. He looked at the ground, thoughtfully.

"It's the opposite of my own creed," he murmured.

"Really?" I was surprised. "Isn't your creed… isolating?"

I immediately regretted the word choice, but Din continued thoughtfully.

"The foundation of the Mandalorian way is rooted deeply in loyalty, community. We are bound to each other by our creed, not kept apart by it."

I furrowed my brow as I processed this. I considered pointing out that his creed had, in fact, disconnected him from his own people — And, I thought with a stab of frustration that I wasn't proud of, it's doing a pretty good job keeping us from really seeing each other.

I chose to save that difficult conversation for a less raw moment. Instead, I put a hand on his arm.

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

We returned to the Arrowhead to find a message from Fennec Shand, of all people.

We need you on Tatooine.

I smirked as Din looked at me, dry amusement in his body language.

"Your favorite," he said.

"I mean at this point, we might as well just get a place there," I laughed, punching in the coordinates and revving up the engines as Din tracked a path. I was proud to find that driving the ship myself was becoming more and more achievable with a few lessons. "What do you think she wants?"

"Does it matter?" His voice was a dull monotone. I knew he was hurting, aching to go back and fight to see the child, but smart enough to override that urge.

As we zoomed away from the lush foliage of Ossus, I took a sad final look out the window. I couldn't shake the feeling that despite how positive the training of a Jedi surely was for him, an upbringing that centered around learning to control a dangerous power while forsaking the warmth and love of home and connection felt… a little too chillingly familiar to me. I swallowed it down.

"Wow. They've been busy."

I stepped off of the ramp onto the hot desert sand and gazed up at the yawning mouth of the cave entrance. Built into the rock was a sturdy, regal compound — part palace, part fortress — guarded by what appeared to be a rather unwelcoming Gamorrean.

"We come at the invitation of Fennec Shand," called Din.

The guard relaxed his grip on his weapon — only a little — and gestured for us to come inside. We exchanged a look and followed, curiously.

We made our way silently as the cave turned into dimly-lit, high-security hallways. The echoes of Fennec's voice were instantly recognizable to me. They grew louder and louder until we came to a room in which a gathering of people were circled around a holographic map. Fennec was walking slowly around them, hands clasped seriously behind her back.

"… Here's a map of where they are gathering, based on whispers," she announced. "The three crime families of Mos Espa seem willing to lay low, and let the Pykes move in on our territory. This is the Mandalorian Din Djarin…"

She turned to look at us for the first time, a small smile playing on her lips. My heart warmed as her gaze locked with mine, and I realized with surprise that I was beginning to have people in my life that I missed when we were parted. Those are called 'friends', said an amused voice in my head.

"… and the sharpshooter Kyrani Moss," she continued, raising one eyebrow.

I fought a wry smile at the generous description.

"Thanks to them, we now have enough experienced muscle to act as enforcers," she continued. "The Mods have done a thorough job of surveying the streets, but we lack the numbers to cover our territory if an all-out war comes. We need foot soldiers."

Ahh, I thought. If anything could keep us busy and our minds off the kid… this certainly could.

"We might be able to help with that," said Din.

The group turned to look at us, curiously. It was a hodge-podge crew, none of whom I recognized, but all of whom were wearing beleaguered expressions of concern and weariness.

Fennec jerked her head and disappeared into another room. We followed, passing the strangers. I exchanged a few nods. Others met my gaze with a wary distrust. Another Gamorrean stood to attention when we walked into the chamber — a small stone seating area took up most of the room, dimly lit by a few industrial bulbs lining the ceiling.

"Eat? Drink?" Fennec looked at us inquiringly, gesturing to the Gamorrean. We shook our heads. "Leave us, Lanak."

He grunted and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Thank you for coming," she said, leaning against the backs of one of the stone thrones.

"It's good to see you," I said, smiling.

"Sounds like quite an operation," said Din. "How did things get so bad since we left?"

Fennec cocked a challenging eyebrow.

"It would be ten times worse if it weren't for us, believe me. The Pyke Syndicate are running rampant with their spice monopoly — this planet is a time bomb and no other towns seem to want to acknowledge that."

"Have you talked to them?" I asked, my mind immediately going to Mos Pelgo. She nodded solemnly.

"The best Boba Fett could do was to get the powers that be in Mos Espa to swear neutrality. No one wants to stick their neck out."

"What about the Marshal Cobb Vanth?" Din spoke up, putting a voice to my thoughts. "I've fought alongside him, he's a reliable leader."

Fennec's eyes sliced to me and she surveyed my face for a moment.

"We hadn't made contact with Mos Pelgo yet — that's one thing I thought you two could take care of."

Din and I exchanged a look.

"You lived there," continued Fennec. "Right?"

"I also died there," I muttered. "Technically."

"I can go," Din said quietly to me.

"No, we'll both go." I swallowed and took a breath. "I've known the Marshal for years. Din's right — he's the right person to have on our side. Between us I'm sure we can convince him."

"Good," said Fennec with a slow smile. "Then get moving."

"I don't know if this is a good idea."

I tightened my grip on the wheel as we navigated through a turbulent air pocket.

"Oh come on," I said, holding down a button and breathing out with relief as the ship stabilized. "You said yourself I was good to drive this thing."

"That's not what I mean," grumbled Din from the copilot's seat, flicking a few things on the dash and correcting the tilt. "The last time you were here, you were almost killed."

"If we're playing by those rules, then we can't go many places in the galaxy, can we?"

"… Good point," he conceded after a moment of thought.

I followed the radar's indication and turned us to the right. My breath caught in my chest as Mos Pelgo came into view.

"There it is," I breathed. It was so small. A huddled hamlet, hazy in the dust, such an anomaly in the middle of a yawning stretch of desert that if one didn't know better, it could've been a mirage. I reeled a little as my heartbeat quickened, my mind racing with memories and anxieties that had appeared as though out of nowhere. I began to bring us down.

"Landing gear," barked Din, pointing at the other side of the wheel.

"Dank Farrik," I hissed, pressing the right series of buttons.

We landed, our approach a little shaky but not unacceptable. We unbuckled and stood, staring out of the viewport at the edge of town, so familiar to me and yet so detached.

"Look at it…" I mused, my low voice and still face masking the tumult of feelings below the surface. "It really is just a little spit of land, isn't it?"

"You want me to take care of this?" Din looked down at me. "You could stay on the ship if its too much."

I smiled, grateful for the offer.

"For better or worse, this was my home for almost six years. I'm not going to hide away from it now."

I looked back through the viewport, but I felt Din's gloved finger touch under my chin gently. He tilted my face back to look up at him. His thumb grazed my chin gently and a moment of silent connection passed between us.

"It'll be fine," I reassured softly.

"Okay," rumbled Din. "Just… know I've got you."

A warmth bloomed in my chest.

"I know."

He traced his fingers down my neck and placed his hand at the nape, sweeping his thumb affectionately across my collarbone. I reached up and grasped it, gently.

"Okay," I said with a nervous attempt at humor. "Lets go resurrect Kyrani Moss."

The white sand stretched endlessly around us, reaching so far that it almost gave me vertigo. We closed up the ship and began taking purposeful strides toward the little town of Mos Pelgo — only something about it felt like revisiting a place in a dream. Like when you know you're somewhere, but there's something about it that tells a deep-rooted part of your subconscious that no, this isn't the place you think it is.

I took a deep, stabilizing breath.

"You wanna park your starship, you gotta do it over in the flats."

A young man appeared from the sheriff's office at the northern post of town. He was walking toward us with a sour face and a cocky swagger that immediately struck my memory. I squinted through the dusty haze, recognizing the figure from a montage of raucous nights at the saloon.

"Scott Dracut?" I hooked a thumb in my belt and surveyed him with a cocked eyebrow. "Who gave you a badge?"

His eyes glanced from Din to me dismissively, but they widened when they took in the details of my face.

"Kyra Moss?" His face paled, like he'd seen a ghost. "You're supposed to be—"

"—Dead," I nodded, shrugging. "It's a funny old galaxy, isn't it?"

"We're here to see Marshal Vanth," said Din.

"Well, look, I don't know what's going on," he stammered, trying to regain his authoritative composure. He looked at me and pointed at Din. "But your friend here still better park in the flats or there'll be trouble."

"I'll take it from here, deputy."

I felt my face spread into a slow smile. Marshal Cobb Vanth appeared behind him, looking older than the last time I'd seen him, but still as handsome and magnetic as ever. He had a sly smile on his face as his eyes flicked from me to Din and back again. Scott begrudgingly left us.

"He's new," Vanth explained, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

I laughed, crossing my arms.

"I didn't think I'd been gone so long that Scott Dracut would somehow be in charge of telling anyone what they can't do. I once saw him lose a drinking contest to a droid."

Vanth narrowed his eyes at me and chuckled.

"You…" he pointed at me, raising an accusatory eyebrow. "I knew you were out there somewhere. Never would've guessed it would be with this old star-wrangler."

I bit back a laugh and looked over at Din.

"Is that…" Vanth pointed past us at the Arrowhead. "Is that a… tourist van? What, are you two on a safari honeymoon?"

"I told you thats what it was," said Din, looking over at me.

"Hey," I replied with a laugh. "A ship's a ship."

Vanth put his hands on his hips and assessed it.

"Haven't seen you since you gave up your armor," said Din, coming to stand alongside him. "How've you been?"

"More careful," he quipped. "Where's the little guy?"

"He's… with his own folk," answered Din.

"Too bad." The Marshal looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. "I guess we both lost something we cared about."

He exchanged a long look with Din, then clapped me on the shoulder and squeezed, steering me in a turn toward the town.

"It's good to see you alive, kid. Come on. I'll buy you both a drink, and you can tell me all about how you faked your own death —" He turned to Din with an accusatory eye. "— And how you kidnapped our best bartender."

I felt a jolt of anxiety at the word "drink".

"Did they rebuild the saloon?"

"Not exactly," he replied.

We came to a stop in front of the old mechanic's garage. Cobb Vanth opened the door for us.

"After that freak fire took away the hottest spot in town—" he raised a dry eyebrow. "—No pun intended — nightlife pretty much moved over here."

We stepped inside where a cantina had been set up, the bar and tables made of an array of rusted speeder parts and defunct pod racers.

"Wow," I breathed. "What happened to Slick?"

"He fixes whatever needs fixing via house calls," answered Vanth with a chuckle. "Doesn't mind making rent from this place, let me tell you."

The cantina was empty save for a Weequay figure behind the bar. He looked up when we entered and did a double take when he saw me.

"Well, well, well," he said gruffly, leaning one hand on the bar.

"Taanti," I said in greeting. "I see you're still putting the bottles away cap-off."

He almost smiled, but thought better of it.

"I liked you better when you were dead," he grumbled. "Just wait 'til Marfa gets wind that you're here to burn down another business venture."

"Marfa?" My mouth went dry and my pulse quickened. "Is he here?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Din turn toward me, concerned. Taanti shook his head and picked up a mug to wipe down with a rag.

"Mos Eisley," he said. "But he'll be back by tonight, this is his place — and don't even think about muscling in, we're fully staffed."

I laughed despite myself, but my mind was still processing. I looked over at Din and nodded slightly, assuring him I was alright.

Marfa's back in business, I thought with relief. Good. This is good.

We ordered a round of drinks and filled each other in, quickly. I kept my story simple — I had run into some old enemies and slipped away in the closest ship I could find. I left out anything about my family, and skipped over the fire — to be honest, any mention of it still twisted my stomach with a wretched guilt that was only magnified by being here.

We were far more detailed when getting down to the business of why we were there.

"We need foot soldiers," said Din, echoing Fennec's words. "It's a numbers game."

"I still don't see what all that's got to do with me," said Cobb Vanth, heading up to the bar for another pour of nog. Taanti was shamelessly eavesdropping on every word.

"We need you to lead a garrison," said Din. He glanced over to me for a moment. "Your people are good fighters, and there's plenty of credits in it for them, too."

Vanth slowly made his way back to our table and sat down, his expression closed off.

"The peace is intact, Mando," he said quietly. "We took out that dragon, my people don't want to fight no more."

"It's not a question of wanting, Marshal," I said, leaning forward on my elbows.

"Your town might be good for now," rumbled Din. "But it's all part of the same planet. We need good people to step up, or the spice is bound to come through these parts."

Vanth surveyed us over his drink.

"As long as I'm here, thats not a problem. So why should they risk their lives for this Boba Fett?"

He said it like it was the name of an unappealing meal.

"Mos Pelgo might be good right now—" I insisted, becoming frustrated.

"Freetown."

The three of us looked in surprise at Taanti, who was leaning over the bar to address us.

"Excuse me?" I furrowed my brow.

"It's Freetown now," said Vanth, taking a sip.

"We changed the name," continued Taanti gruffly. "Suits us better."

I looked from the bartender to the Marshal and back, incredulously.

"That's a terrible name," I exclaimed, glaring at the Marshal. He laughed and took another sip.

"Well," said Din in a peacekeepers voice. "I fought side-by-side with the citizens of Freetown—"

"—unbelievable," I muttered, taking a sip of my fire rum.

"…and they're brave people," continued Din, ignoring my interjection. "The Pyke syndicate has us outnumbered, and we need your help."

"The town wants no part of it," barked Taanti. "Thats a city folk fight."

Din and I exchanged a look. He leaned forward onto his elbow and directed his attention to Vanth.

"Is that what you think, Marshal?"

Cobb Vanth's eyes flicked from mine to Din's T-visor, assessing us. He heaved a deep sigh and put his glass down on the table.

"We're square, you and me," he said to Din.

"Yes we are," replied Din with a steely tone. "But I didn't think you were the type to back down from bullies."

Vanth leaned back in his chair, beginning to look annoyed.

"That big smile of yours lets you get away with anything."

I couldn't hide the curl of my lip as I looked at him with disappointment.

"When did you get so gun-shy?" I asked, leaning forward. "You used to come into my bar and tell me the wildest stories of fierce conquests, of how you won this town over by defending it almost single-handedly — and the crazy thing is, unlike most of the blather I heard, your stories were true."

He chuckled, staring down into his glass.

"And now we need you," I said. He looked up and met my gaze, his eyebrows raising. "And you're suddenly an isolationist."

He opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it.

"Look," said Din softly. "There's no easy way to ask for a favor."

Vanth looked over at him and sighed, shaking his head with a weary hint of a smile.

"Alright. I'll tell you what. Things are tough around here… but I'll see what I can do."

I looked over at Din, who nodded slowly.

"Thank you," I murmured, finishing my drink.

Vanth regarded me for a lingering moment and shook his head.

"You know, you scared a lot of people."

I looked up at him, startled.

"Not to say you did anything wrong," he continued, surveying me. "You did what you had to do. But people grieved. I feel like you might not know that."

I froze as his words hit me, the weight of them sinking down through my chest and stomach. I began to speak but the words — whatever they were — hitched in my throat.

I had never dared surmise that I mattered in this town. So much of my life here had been keeping my head down, fading into the background — or so I had thought. Seeing Marfa again back in Mos Espa had shaken me to my core, but it hadn't occurred to me that anyone else had even noticed I was gone.

Din looked at me and moved his hand from its spot on the table to cover mine with subtle reassurance. Cobb Vanth's eyes flicked down, examining Din's fingers gently landing between mine. An inscrutable small smile appeared on his lips.

"Well," he said after a moment, standing. "Mando, it's always a pleasure crossing paths with you."

We stood, too. Din took Vanth's outstretched hand and shook it, their eyes meeting with mutual respect.

"And, uh…" Vanth lowered his voice a little and took a step closer to Din. "You take care. There are plenty of people in this town who would be very interested to know how to find you if anything happened to her. Again."

My eyes widened as I registered the protective, almost familial threat.

"Understood," rumbled Din with a hint of amusement. He looked over at me and I could feel an eyebrow raise beneath the helmet.

Vanth released his hand and he gave me a parting nod.

"Ma'am."

He exited through the swinging metallic doors and left us with nothing but empty glasses and Taanti's scrutinizing gaze.

Din looked at me again and shifted his weight to one hip.

"And I thought the only family I had to worry about were the ones trying to kill you."

I smiled wryly and jerked my head.

"C'mon, Mando. Let's say goodbye to Mos Pelgo."

"Freetown," barked Taanti.

"Still terrible!" I waved at him, to which he responded with a rude gesture.

We were nearly at the edge of town when something stopped me in my tracks. A hand involuntarily flew to Din's arm.

"Wait," I murmured, my blood beginning to rush. "Can we just…"

I trailed off, pivoting on my heel and walking down a side street. Din followed me silently. When we came to the end of the road, I stopped. He followed my gaze and I heard a low exhale rumble through his vocoder.

Before us were the charred black remains of Marfa's saloon. Plenty of the mess had been cleared, but it was clearly a work in progress — the frame of the building lay in long charcoal beams and there were still piles of wreckage that had yet to be excavated. I stood there uselessly, my mind at once running a million miles a minute and completely empty, my body vibrating and hollow.

I took a few dazed steps and walked into the ruin, my eyes scanning the mess for something — anything — that I could recognize.

"There's a piece of the register," I murmured, pointing at a melted bit of metal. "The stairs were here…"

I followed the map in my memory until I came to stand between two large, jagged pieces of wall that were leaning against each other precariously.

"This was my room."

Din followed me, watching me carefully. He came to stand next to me and looked around.

"I slept here," I breathed, staring down at my feet, remembering. "For years. I ran and ran and for years, this was the safest place in the galaxy I could find."

As I spoke, my mind flashed back to when the Razor Crest was destroyed — when we stood in the rubble of his safest place.

There was a moment of silence, then he stooped down and picked something up, dusting it off gently. It was a warped metal pole with a diamond-shaped molding at the end of it, on which was embossed the charred but still visible shape of a sun.

"That's my bed," I gasped, my lips curling in a bittersweet half-smile. "It had two suns — one on this and one on the other side."

Din ran his thumb across the engraving, clearing it of soot. He handed it to me and began taking careful steps around, searching the ground. I clutched the piece to my stomach, absent-mindedly wrapping my hands around my own waist in a self-soothing hug. After a moment, he bent down again and brought forth another, slightly more warped piece of the bedframe — just like the other one, it had a dingy engraving of a sun in the top piece.

"Two suns," he murmured, looking at it. "For Tatooine I'm guessing."

"I think so," I whispered through a wan chuckle. "I don't know where it came from, it came with the room."

I remembered nights spent clutching the rough blanket and staring out the window, trying to will myself to fall into a dreamless sleep but too afraid to sink into the darkness. I would look up at the corner of the bedframe and trace the shapes of the suns rays with my eyes, my body eventually relaxing with the repetitive motion until finally I could get a few hours of much-needed unconsciousness.

Din examined my face, then slowly moved his cloak aside and hooked the metal piece into his utility belt.

I smiled gratefully and did the same with the one in my hands.

"Thanks for letting me take this pit stop," I said briskly, wiping an errant tear with the side of my palm. "I just… I just had to see it."

"I wanted to come here," he said quietly. "This is where we met."

My gaze snapped to him as my heart turned over in my chest. He was right. Memories of that night appeared in my mind, his gruff, detached stoicism being such a front for the complex, vulnerable man that lived beneath the beskar.

"Actually," I said with a half smile, walking back through the rubble and coming to a stop near the front of the ruin. "This is where we met."

I looked back over my shoulder at him and smiled. He strode slowly over and came to a stop next to me, looking around at what was left of the saloon.

"Remember?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Could never forget," he replied. He turned his head to look down at me and a moment passed between us — our feet in the wreckage of our first meeting, the air between us charged with the electricity of a new beginning, rising from the ashes like a phoenix.

I didn't believe everything happened for a reason. I never subscribed to any spiritual notions of fate or destiny. But what I did believe — what I had learned to believe since that pivotal night — was that life was long, and that out of the darkness and the nightmares and the fear could come the most beautiful, brilliant things — things one could choose and fight for.

"Come on," I said warmly after a moment. "Lets keep going."