"Mica," Omera said.
She must have recorded the holo in a hurry. Her hair was pulled back loosely, tendrils framing her face. Her cheeks were wet.
"I just, um, received your message. A New Republic patrol ship actually landed and brought my your holo. Caused quite a stir. I haven't told Winta yet. I get the impression there's some big scandal—there's a lot of chaos at the settlement. All of the Merrix people seem to be scrambling and the New Republic's everywhere." Omera chuckled a little bit now. "I guess now you've met my Mandalorian friend. He said he was looking for you, for people like you. He keeps his promises, doesn't he? I hope his little boy is safe." She sniffled. "Look. All I care about is getting you back home with me. Where you belong. I don't care what you've done in your past. We'll work that all out. Just…please, get back to me. As soon as you can."
Mayfeld's back was turned to Din but it looked like he was wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He was sitting behind stacked crates so he could play back the holo in privacy. Din hadn't meant to listen in, but he had been searching for Mayfeld as planning for the rescue planning got underway, and when he heard Omera's voice he had frozen. Now he stirred and moved away, chiding himself for eavesdropping. Grogu had been quietly exploring a pile of tools at the far corner of the warehouse. When he saw his father he trotted up expectantly and lifted his arms.
"Let's go," Din said quietly. "Mr. Mayfeld will join us later. Let's see what we can do to help."
Soon Din was gazing at the group of grim faces gathered in the hangar around a schematic of the Arena. Grogu perched on his shoulder for a better view.
Greef Karga stood with arms crossed, flanked by two of his hard-looking crew of mercenaries. Teva also stood with two of his team, fellow veteran pilots. Cara Dune looked like a bomb about to explode. Woves and several Nite Owls studied the others warily. And then there were Burg and Fazzakkaar. As former prisoners—maybe current?—their status was unclear. But Burg had survived and thrived in the Arena for months. His knowledge of the place and its inhabitants was invaluable as they planned the rescue mission for the downed shuttle.
And its passenger, Councilor Organa Solo.
One small, pregnant woman alone in the Arena with hundreds of dangerous convicts.
The Engineer circled the holographic schematic in her wheeled contraption. "The shielding above the Arena itself has been deactivated, which allowed the shuttle to crash land there without exploding. It has what you might call a doomsday option. When activated to a certain frequency, a mini radiation flash, much like a small thermonuclear blast, ignites the atmosphere within a certain perimeter, snuffing out all life."
"So when Varro threatened to kill everyone, she wasn't bluffing," said Mayfeld. He had approached the group quietly while the Engineer spoke. His face and eyes looked puffy and red.
"Oh, indeed not, young man."
Somber silence greeted this information.
"But Mando and the others here made them deactivate the shield," said Karga. "Why haven't the prisoners there made their escape? What's keeping them behind the wall? They sure as hell could climb it."
"There's a secondary fail-safe system embedded in this wall," she said, pointing to the black metal wall surrounding the ruined town. "It gives off lethal shocks. It's linked to the doors controlling access to the tunnels and safe rooms, and that's all thanks to the abundant solar resources. So far, the convicts have not achieved control of that system."
"But now they have access to all of the weapons that shuttle was transporting," said Teva. "Including heavy weaponry meant to repel air attacks. So landing will be tricky. And it's not like we can just shoot the place up and put the Councilor and our people at risk."
"How many others were on the shuttle?" asked Woves.
"The pilot, plus the Councilor's two personal guards. They're our best people, but there's only two of them."
"Where is this Varro woman?" asked one of Cara's rangers. "She couldn't be there, could she?"
"No evidence of it," said Teva. "But the mineral content on this planet makes scanning for life forms difficult. We're blind."
"So the convicts have access to the tunnel system now, and the safe room?" asked Mayfeld. "They must have made a big dent in that spotchka collection."
"I don't like it," Din said. "They'll be able to see us. Merrix and Varro must have installed surveillance cams everywhere. They did here at the Panopticon. They wanted to record the 'entertainment.' But it's not controlled from the safe room. I've been there. There must be another control area we haven't found."
"It's not on any schematic," said the Engineer.
"We still have to take our chances and go in," said Cara.
"The tunnel from the Arena to the docks collapsed," said Din. "But the river's our best way in. There must be another tunnel."
The Engineer pressed something on her controls, and the schematic changed. "Deep in the archives we found this old map of the mining town before Merrix turned it into the Arena. The docks were the sole link from the mine here to the town and the station midway. You can see other entrances here, here, and here."
"I never knew there was a river just under our feet," said Burg. "That whole time I was there."
"Hopefully no one else knows," said Din.
"We have two collapsable boats the Empire brought," said Karga.
"What about our murder boat?" asked Mayfeld. "Still busted?" The Engineer lit up.
"F-562 has been brought back online after the ion blast. Perfectly charming but a tad eccentric."
"That's one way of putting it," said Mayfeld.
"We don't know if the Councilor or her people have been captured or not," said Teva. "Hopefully she's hiding—she's been in tight spots before and can handle herself. If the prisoners have her, they might try to use her for leverage, keep her unharmed." The faces around them all seemed to share the same dark thought—the much, much worse alternatives if the prisoners wanted to inflict suffering.
There was a crash as Cara kicked over a stack of crates.
"Then we have to stop talking, and JUST GO," she said.
Soon the small force was gathered at the dock far below, readying for the trip down the river. A heavy force remained in charge of the Panopticon, and the clones remained with Isidore in their care. Grogu had put his worry aside to enjoy the near-free fall from the top to the bottom, held tightly in Din's arms. The New Republic demolition experts were clearing away the last of the wreckage blocking the tunnel. Teva would provide distraction from the air while the main force would come from the river.
Now Din went over his equipment in his mind: jetpack and flamethrower both refueled, whistling birds loaned from ones of Woves' people, blasters, knife, extra charges. As he tightened the straps of the back sling for Grogu, the boy gestured at him. His look was urgent, but not fearful. They crouched together in a sheltered spot behind a pile of twisted metal. Despite the chaos around them, Grogu could concentrate enough for his thoughts to reach his father.
There is danger around her, but she is safe and not afraid! And the Tadpole also is safe.
"Tadpole? Oh, her child. Do you think Skywalker knows?"
I think so. But he is caught in a great battle with the Enemy. Many people he must help. As Grogu became better at communicating his thoughts, he was developing a distinct syntax. All species had unique ways to use and process language.
"He won't be able to get here in time," said Din. "It's up to us, then."
We are strong. Help her we will. And she has been in danger many times.
A yell interrupted their conversation. Grogu secured himself on Din's back. Cara was glaring at the ferry droid.
"Will you talk some sense into this thing? Gave me a shock."
"Departure time in six minutes," said the ferry cheerfully in its prim, distinctly female voice. "Paid passengers only."
"Don't worry," said Mayfeld. "That thing just loves Mando."
Thank you, Mayfeld. "F-562," said Din. "All of these people are authorized personnel and paid passengers."
"Tickets please!"
"I have their tickets. I'm authorized, remember?"
"Very good! Departure in five minutes."
"F-562, we have to go now. Authorized personnel urgently need your help. No stopping on the way."
"ENGINES ACTIVATING."
"See, what'd I tell you?" said Mayfeld, ignoring Din's helmeted glare. "You two are a match made in heaven."
The small force set off down the black, silent river. Din had hoped never to see it again, or the Arena, but here they were again. When could they get off this planet? Beside him, Burg grumbled. "Going back there. Can't believe it." Fazzakaar growled in agreement.
"Hey, did you find Boxer? Your old partner?" asked Mayfeld.
Yes, answered the Wookie. It was good to find him. But now what will become of us? If we can leave, where can we go? I cannot return to my own people in disgrace. I have nothing.
"Yeah," said Burg contemplatively. "Wasn't a bad gig back at the Arena if you were big and on top of the food chain. What am I gonna do now?"
"Aw, lots of career opportunities out there for Devaronians with your skill set," said Mayfeld.
"Maybe," replied Burg. "And I could land myself back in prison too. I kinda wanna go but I kinda wanna stay."
"Speak for yourself," said Mayfeld. "I am out of here as soon as possible." Burg and Fazzakkaar shuffled off to another section of the boat, maybe looking for ration bars.
"You shouldn't have come," said Din. "Your job is to get back to your family."
"Yeah? How? I'll go crazy waiting back there at the Panopticon. I hate that place."
"Stay on the ferry."
"On this thing? No fucking way, Mando. Helping this lady might get me in the New Republic's good graces," Mayfeld said. "And then I can get transport out of here. Hell, I got two murder raps."
"You didn't kill that officer," said Din.
"Yeah, didn't save him either."
"You were protecting an innocent person on Sorgan."
"Still got the rap."
"I promised I'd bring you back," said Din stubbornly.
"Yeah, so you said. You've done what you could. Look. No matter what happens now, I gotta say I owe it to you. You didn't have to come here at all but you promised Omera." Now he was looking closely at Din. "I'm just glad you and Dune helped her and Winta before with those raiders. I owe you for that too."
There were clearly unspoken questions on Mayfeld's lips—What is Omera to you, really? Why did you make this promise to her?
But to Din's relief these questions stayed unspoken.
"I'm gonna look for some food too," Mayfeld muttered and moved away.
Din adjusted his hold on Grogu as the little boy scanned the dark water with his sharp eyes. When the child had gone with Skywalker, Din had been…empty. With his quest fulfilled, the child safe, his people scattered, and his ship destroyed, he was bereft of purpose, utterly hollowed out. And he had broken the Creed, so he no longer even had that. There might have been a place for him working with Boba Fett, but their agreement with each other had been fulfilled, and Fett didn't push it.
So after being dropped off at Halax 5, Din had worked his way from planet to planet taking guard gigs on freighters and private yachts, taking small Guild jobs, simply surviving and trying not to think about anything, ignoring the weight of the hateful Dark Saber. Then one day he had overheard one of his employers, a smuggler, talk about making a run to Sorgan for a spotchka pickup.
And a voice inside Din had said, Don't you want something just for yourself, now that you have nothing?
Omera…that connection between them had been real, hadn't it? Din had felt a burst of longing. He had a brief vision of what it would be like if he came to Sorgan and knocked on her door. When she opened it he would remove his helmet and say, I'm ready to stay now. And she would look at him with her hopeful face and lovely dark eyes, maybe draw him into her room at the back of her house. He would remove his armor, take her in his arms and lose himself in her.
Then he imagined how it would really go.
There would be unspeakable awkwardness as he stumbled over his words. What exactly was he going to do—try to kiss her like an inexperienced teenager? Kissing wasn't exactly a strong Mandalorian courtship skill. The sheer humiliation would kill him. What was a woman like her supposed to do with someone like him? He had nothing to offer her or her community beyond his skills in violence, and he would lose his mind from boredom. He knew his own restless heart.
And how selfish of him to even fantasize about her this way—did he think she had been waiting for him the whole time, like she had no life or purpose of her own? What about Winta? The vision was actually an absurd daydream.
And Din had realized also that it would not fill the gaping void inside of him. Not really.
Only one thing could do that.
Din had no idea how long Grogu needed to train, but they would see each other again one day. He was sure of it. So Din had to be someone worthy of Grogu. Worthy of being his father, although at that time Din couldn't bring himself to think that way. The first step was finding his people again.
His purpose restored, he had begun his search for his Covert. And he did not go to Sorgan.
Din had made the promise to Omera for two reasons. He was sorry for something he had not even done. And he was grateful to her for helping him understand his true path forward, without her even knowing it—the path leading to his son.
And, ironically, she had chosen Mayfeld.
What he could he possibly tell Omera if Mayfeld got himself killed now, in a fight that wasn't his? They could have never brought down the Panopticon with him—hadn't the man done enough?
Nearby, two of Karga's mercenaries were whispering. "Why are we bothering with this lady? This wasn't part of our agreement."
"She's a higher-up in the New Republic government. And she's the heir to the Alderaan royal house. There's a reward in it."
"What reward? Hasn't been an Alderaan for years."
"Yeah, but they had a lot of assets."
Cara was close and she was clearly listening. Barely contained anger seemed to shimmer around her like heat waves. Greef Karga was shaking his head very slightly. But the first mercenary did not seem to value his own life very highly. "Well, I heard she was adopted anyway. Not real family. Of course, at least she's human, it's not natural when humans adopt non-humans, and—"
Cara delivered a swift crack to the man's jaw, making his head jerk back sharply. Karga and Din gave the man a stony look.
"Do you have any more interesting insights to share, Kamus?" asked Karga.
"No sir." The mercenary was fortunate not to have broken bones in his face, but he seemed to be wiggling a loose tooth with his tongue. Grogu frowned disdainfully at the mercenary, then returned his attention to the water.
"Good. Let's enjoy this nice, quiet ride then, shall we?" Karga's smile didn't reach his hard eyes.
###
The river rounded a corner and the lights on the boats revealed the docks. The people on the boats tensed and drew their weapons as they grew near. Perfect silence and blackness hung over all. Cara was first off, rifle ready as her feet hit the stone pier. At her nod the other rangers under her command fanned out. Karga's mercenaries came next, followed by the Wookie, Mayfeld, and Burg. Din and Grogu took up the rear.
One of Cara's team said something quiet over his comms device. In the sky above, Teva and his people would cause some distractions. At the same Din sent a coded signal over his comms interface to Woves. According to the plan, a small team of Mandalorians would use jet packs to jump the wall at a point with spotty surveillance and infiltrate the Arena.
Din fell back, staying close to F-562. "Mayfeld," he said Din. "Hold on."
Mayfeld cocked his head. Din gestured him over. "What?" Mayfeld started to say.
Din's whipcord lashed out and wrapped up Mayfeld tightly, binding his arms to his sides. Din's gloved hand covered his mouth. Mayfeld's pale eyes grew wide with astonishment. "Shut up," Din warned. He cut off the whipcord and tossed Mayfeld unceremoniously onto the ferry. "F-562, take this passenger back down the river out of harm's way. Keep him safe. I'll contact you on this frequency when we need you to return."
"Understood!" said the ferry conspiratorially.
"Wait, what?! You asshole!" Mayfeld whisper-shouted, torn between outrage and not wanting to attract attention from unfriendly ears.
"This is for your own good," said Din firmly. "We went through a lot of trouble to find you. Think about Omera and Winta."
"You're taking your KID but leaving ME here? You buckethead PRICK! You…" But the ferry was already sliding away silently.
Once they were out of sight, Din sighed. He would miss Mayfeld's help and sure aim, but he felt freer, less worried with Mayfeld out of the mix.
"For his own good," Din repeated to Grogu. Mayfeld angry but alive was better than the alternative. The boy nodded, not needing a lot of convincing. They rejoined the others as they prepared to flank the doors leading to the tunnels.
"You finally convinced Mayfeld to get out of here?" asked Cara softly. "Because of Omera?"
"Sort of."
"For his own good," she said.
The mercenaries and rangers set grav charges at each tunnel entrance. Hopefully the sound would be muffled—and hopefully there weren't dozens of convicts waiting just on the other side. Cara counted down on her fingers—three, two, one…
BOOM
They stormed into the tunnel before the dust had cleared. No one was there. Trying not to bunch up, the force broke into two groups to make their way down the tunnels. They met no one in the dark. At last they made their way through the tunnels and the secret doors to the surface. It was now nightfall.
Silence, except for an occasional shot from a passing x-wing.
No one.
After moving down several alleys, Cara gestured Din over. "I don't like this," she whispered. "Where is everyone?" The comms channel crackled as Karga joined in the conversation as he led his own team.
"They must be gathered somewhere. Maybe having fun with the captives," Karga added grimly.
"We don't know they have captives," said Cara, but horror filled her eyes.
"They might still be gathered," said Din. "At the safe room, or the control room, wherever that it."
"Or that ballroom," said Burg, nodding at Din. "Where you and me had our little fight. That's the biggest place here." Grogu squirmed. But before Din could learn why, the loudspeaker system shrieked into life. A deep voice filled the Arena in thickly accented Basic like it was bubbling up through mud.
"Looking for someone, friends?"
They froze.
"These people on the shuttle must be very important to you."
"Oh, that's Nalab," said Burg. "He's a Hutt. He's sort of in charge now. Took over from me when Mando beat me."
"WHAT?" said Cara. "A Hutt, here?"
"These people are our hostages. We hear that the Empire is driven from this planet. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Your food drops are very much appreciated, but we want something more. We hear the human prison has been destroyed and prisoners freed. Why not us? Maybe you are afraid, yes? We wish to leave this planet. We do not trust your precious New Republic, because after all they sent us here. You will arrange a ship for me and my followers in the next hour. Otherwise these hostages will be used for our entertainment. If you attempt to rescue them they will be killed immediately and painfully. Also, please stop those fighters from taking potshots. It makes my people angry."
"They're watching us," said Din. Cara circled around, looking at the crumbling walls. Suddenly the eye of a tattletale droid, a single robotic eye on a long stalk, sprang out from a nearby wall. They all jumped.
"Ah'chu apenkee?" it asked.
"How do we know they're alive?" Cara shouted, moving closer to the eye droid.
A pause. "Ah. I hear you wonder if they live. Worry not! The people on the shuttle are unharmed," said the thick voice over the loudspeaker. He was interrupted by a bone-chilling scream, a human male's voice in pain. "Mostly."
Grogu squirmed again.
Din grabbed Cara's arm and murmured something close to her ear. She nodded, then shouted again. "One of your hostages has a health condition that requires special care. How do we know everything's okay?"
The pause was longer. "He is fine enough. This communication will now end. Bring us our ship."
Cara swung her rifle with a frustrated snarl and snapped the droid's eyestalk in half. Din looked back at Grogu, who shook his head. "They don't have her," Din said. "They have maybe a guard or pilot, but not her. They would have mentioned her pregnancy, tried to use that against us. But they don't have her and they don't know there was a human woman on that ship, much less a pregnant one."
"So then where is she?" asked Cara.
"Hiding." Din looked around at the walls, trying to use the heat vision of his helmet and getting no results. "I hope."