Disclaimer: not mine

Borrowing a title used in another fic since I couldn't find one that fit for Tim. Found it in the fic, Walk a Different Path by alexjanna91 on AO3. Great series but they haven't posted the third part or anything in a few years.

Chapter 4

"Staring at it won't make it go away, Jas'buir," the amused comment had him looking up to see his youngest leaning against the doorway, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

It was amazing the difference a year could make. Ad'Alor be Mandalore was what his people had taken to calling Tim, a title that had caused the teen to go bright red when he worked out the translation. In the last year he had grown three inches, filling out to match his new height, not that he was overly tall but he'd caught up with most of his human agemates. Jango teased him though since he was still taller, though not by much now. Black hair was down to his shoulders and his skin was tanned from time in the training fields. He wore training armour, his body still adjusting to the weight and the Goran was having fun making armour to fit his flexibility and liking for flips. He'd be ready for full beskar'gam soon though and Jaster was looking forward to him being properly protected.

He'd really settled into life on Manda'yaim, no longer shy or hesitant. His voice had never fully recovered, retaining a rasp even as it broke with puberty, but that didn't stop him from speaking up in strategy meetings. He was good, very good at strategy. Thanks to some of his comments and plans they were doing a lot better at rooting out Kyr'tsad.

"Kryze," he explained, and Tim grimaced in understanding, moving to sit in front of his desk. "Don't you have training right now?"

Tim nodded. "The Goran said I should come to you."

Jaster leant forward, he didn't know much about how the Goran was training Tim with his abilities but Tim was definitely showing signs of having more control. "What is it?"

"A feeling…calling? She said I'm meant to follow it."

Jaster frowned. "Is it on planet?"

Tim shook his head. "It feels far away, out of the system."

He stared at his son; he had not left Manda'yaim in the past year since he had so much to catch up on. He'd had training, but not in their ways and his education had been so far behind…more proof his world had yet to discover hyperspace. Thankfully, Tim was highly intelligent but it would still take longer to catch up in his education. He didn't like the idea of Tim leaving without full armour either. Durasteel or Beskar, either would be better protection than the partial set Tim currently wore.

"She's finished my armour," Tim told him, shifting slightly in the chair, a nervous action.

He hadn't sworn the Resol'nare or undergone his verd'goten yet, despite being almost fifteen. Those who came to them older either had already been through enough to count or would take it older. Could this be the Ka'ra pushing him towards his verd'goten?

They were still searching for Earth as best they could but there were no leads. Tim still kept a lot of his old life back but that was alright, he was still seeing the mir'baar'ur and hopefully had opened up more to them. Cin vhetin was central to their society, if Tim chose to leave his past in the past, then that was his choice. He knew his ad still missed his old family, he likely always would, but he didn't let it stop him from reaching out to his new one.

"Do you know anything of what is calling to you?" he asked, bringing up a blank report form.

"It's dangerous," Tim murmured, eyes closed as he focused. "A war?" he frowned and then his eyes opened and he shrugged.

Well, he wasn't sending Tim into a potential warzone alone. He brought up a list of available ships and verd'e. Jango's squad was available and his ad would likely not be pleased if he sent Tim without him. He had really taken to being a big brother, even if it wasn't by much. Thankfully, Tim's calendar translated to their own and he had been born in the mid-year, what he called July, so in eta'tuurar, while Jango had been born in the second month of theirs, tad'tuurar. Jango had already turned fifteen but Tim would in another two months. Sending both of them into a possible warzone might be risky, but he trusted they would be able to protect themselves and each other. They would have a well shielded ship and a full squad to back them up.

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Tim shifted to make sure his kute was comfortable and settled. The material was different to his old Robin suit, designed to help regulate his temperature and ensure he didn't end up soaked in sweat, it was also knife resistant. Then he pulled on his nearly knee-high boots, testing the flexibility. They were longer and lighter than traditional for a human but Tim needed the extra movement, he was more acrobatic than the average Mando.

He entered the main room where the Goran waited with his armour only to find his buir and ori'vod there as well. They were both smiling proudly at him and Tim fought down a blush.

"Of course we came to see you put your beskar'gam on for the first time," Jango grinned at him.

"It's not the real beskar version yet though," Tim argued.

"Doesn't matter," Jango smiled at him. "This is a big step in an ad's life, the lead up to their verd'goten and swearing the Resol'nare."

Tim nodded. Sometimes it all still felt unreal, like he'd wake in his bed in Drake manor any moment, alone as always. Or he'd wake up in Wayne Manor to Alfred calling him to breakfast, Bruce and maybe even Dick at the table. But that never happened and he had the feeling it never would, that he'd never see them again. His family and friends were so far away that he could see no way home.

The Goran handed him the first piece of armour and he began securing it to his kute. This armour didn't have the ka'rta beskar, not yet, but it had everything else. It was heavier than his Robin armour but he'd spent the last year getting used to wearing heavier pieces so it wasn't too bad. It'd be even heavier in beskar.

"This, however, is beskar," Jaster held something out and Tim reached out to take it, frowning in confusion before his eyes widened.

He found the activation and it extended into a bō…made of beskar. "Buir…"

"Even has a hidden blade in it like you told me," Jango smirked. "You should have a familiar weapon after all."

Blasters and beskad had been what he'd been using in training. The beskad wasn't so bad, Shiva had insisted he know to use any blade he could get his hands on, including swords. But blasters were very different to guns, the closest he'd found in his research were slug throwers and they were considered archaic by most. The weight, balance…everything about blasters was so different. not that he had much experience with guns but when he was ten Jack had decided he needed to do some father-son bonding, and he'd been home because his school was shut due to a virus. So, they'd spent four days at some rich retreat for fishing and hunting, a place where money was what mattered rather than the fact Tim was very underaged. He'd learnt to shoot there and hadn't been too bad. But he wasn't very fond of guns, even with silencers they were loud, not to mention too easily lethal.

But he was a Mando now, or at least one in training. Which meant making lethal shots, defending his vod'e to the death. He just…he'd never killed before. They knew it too, had expected it since he'd said he'd been in training. Explaining vigilantes was kind of hard and he couldn't tell them everything about it or Earth, because if they did find his home planet then others could too.

Tim raised the bō and then moved, spinning with it, fighting an invisible enemy.

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Jango watched his vod move and yeah, he could see that Tim had primarily trained with that weapon. He looked so much more natural with it then anything they'd worked with him on so far. Sure, he was adjusting to a blaster and even beskad but this was someone trained by a master in their weapon. And his armour moved with him as he flipped into the air. Some of the moves he pulled had Jango wincing. He couldn't move like that! But Tim had a rather different body type to him, his vod'ika would never pack on the muscle the way Jango had begun. But that was good, the more differences between all of the verd'e, the better since their differences made them better fighters.

He wondered what colours Tim would choose to pain this armour and then his beskar'gam. Maybe white and grey, some blue? And then the Goran handed Tim his buy'ce and Tim stared at the t-visor before putting it on.

"Oh," Tim murmured, shaking his head.

"Tim?" Jaster sounded worried.

Tim pulled it off, blinking.

"I thought that might happen," the Goran murmured.

"What happened?"

"It's the beskar, Tim may not be a jetii but he has subconsciously been using his connection to the Ka'ra all his life and now he has begun training to use it consciously. There is a reason beskar is so useful again jetii, it blocks their connection to the Ka'ra."

"Osik!" Jango swore.

"Is it only the buy'ce that will give him problems?" Jaster asked in concern.

The Goran nodded. "We've found the buy'ce causes the most issues, that is why I tested it now."

"So, what does that mean for me?" Tim asked, eyeing the buy'ce warily. In response she handed him another that he studied before slipping on.

"That one is durasteel mixed with a very low level of beskar," she told them.

"How does it feel?" Jango asked, worried, at least he hadn't pulled it off yet?

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Tim was thankful when it didn't feel like he'd plunged his head under water this time. That had been a very strange feeling and one he couldn't stand. He hadn't realised it was beskar till he'd put it on, he'd been around beskar plenty during his lessons in the forge. So, using it wasn't an issue and he'd even been used to size a pair of kom'rk with no issue. So, was it just having it over his head that was the issue or would wearing a whole set be bad too? He wasn't the only one with the Ka'ra but she had admitted he was one of the stronger blessed. He could use more instruction than the Goran could give but there hadn't been a jetii among the Mando'ade since Tarre Vizsla.

The new buy'ce was a lot better. It was still a little weird but nowhere near as bad as the first one. It was like he had his old Robin comm in his ear too snugly, cutting off a lot of the surrounding noise but still able to mostly hear through it.

"How does it feel?" Jango asked him.

"Like I've got one ear mostly blocked but it's not throwing my balance off like that can," he explained. He shook his head and then flipped around, all without stumbling so it definitely wasn't affecting his balance.

"Wear it on the ship to get used to the difference," the Goran told him, and he nodded. "I have a few options to go through, we'll find something that works properly."

"Vor entye."

The HUD was very different and was taking some getting used to. Sure, his domino had an inbuilt camera, zoom, and night vision but this was very different. He'd gotten so used to the domino on his skin that he'd barely noticed it but a full helmet was very different. The HUD gave more data than he was used to but it wasn't something he couldn't get used to.

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Jaster drew Tim into a gentle mirshmure'cya, for the first time it was buy'ce to buy'ce. "Come home safe," he ordered, and his ad nodded.

"Ret'urcye mhi," he answered.

The rest of the verde were already on board, the ship ready for take-off. Jaster forced himself to release Tim, pulling Jango in as well. Sending them both into a potential warzone was not something he wanted to do, but even on Manda'yaim they weren't truly safe, not with Kyr'tsad still causing trouble. They didn't like him having another ad at all but Tim had been kept too close to truly be a target.

He watched his ade walk up the ramp which sealed behind them and then the ship took off.

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Dick quickly opened the door and let himself into the bedroom, glancing around. Nothing had changed since he'd last come, a shrine to a missing child…just like Jason's room. It wasn't fair! He wanted his little brothers back. That was impossible with Jason but with Tim…the hope hurt so much but with no body it was hard to not hope the kid was out there somewhere.

Hal, John, and Kyle were searching for any sign of Tim among the various corps but surely, he would have reached out to them if he had been chosen by a ring. Though if it was a yellow or red ring…Tim reduced to a creature control by his rage and base instincts made him feel sick. The only way to free someone from the Red Ring safely was using a Blue Ring and they were hard to find. And if he wore a Yellow Ring…he'd heard the horror stories of what happened to them, bearers subjected to psychological and physical reconditioning to ensure their loyalty to Sinestro. It was meant to be very brutal but Tim had to have been terrified so it would be understandable if a Ring had come to him.

But if the Lanterns weren't involved, then how did Tim vanish? Diana had used her lasso on the Joker to force the truth from him and he claimed Tim had vanished from right in front of him, injured but still alive. So there had to be either aliens or magic involved. Constantine, Zatanna, and Raven were doing their own searching as they had time but so far there was no sign of Tim. It had been a year, surely if he could, Tim would have come home or contacted them. Was he being held prisoner somewhere? Or…had he succumbed to his wounds?

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Tim looked over the available paints, not entirely sure what to go with but…he could use Robin's colours, their meanings worked. They would be darker than even his costume but still the right colours. Red for honouring a parent, black for justice, and green for duty. To any aruetii, he would appear a full Mando which was for safety. In just over a year, he'd be old enough to swear the Resol'nare, because he'd been over thirteen when adopted he had to wait till then. Jango had been allowed to swear at thirteen after his verd'goten as normal.

The first thing he painted on was the mythosaur of the Haat Mando'ade in white onto his right bes'mabur. On the left was a stylised bat with an R through it in black and grey for his home and life with the bats. He was Clan and House Mereel but Jaster had been exiled so didn't use the clan symbol, just the mythosaur. The base colour he used for the two pieces was green. In the end, the colours ended up spread over the armour in a similar way to how his suit had been coloured, though not exactly. His t-visor was also outlined in white, most of the helmet black.

The surprise on Jango's face when he saw it was amusing. "What?"

"Good colours," his ori'vod answered. And apparently not the ones he was expecting. "We're coming up on the next check point."

Tim nodded and headed for the cockpit. He liked flying though he wasn't yet ready to fly a ship yet, but he was the navigator since they were following a feeling in the Ka'ra.

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He pressed his hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding even as he tried to take the pain. Joli whimpered, tears in his eyes but Obi-Wan had no words of comfort, all of his focus on keeping the younger boy alive. He was so tired, so hungry, that focusing enough to use the Force was harder than it had ever been. But he had to get Joli stable enough to move back to the sewers.

Finally, he sat back, wiping the blood off his hands before picking Joli up and rushing for the nearest entrance. But in the back of his mind there was something…a whisper…hope. Hope for what? No one had come since Master Jinn had left him behind. He'd held onto hope for several months after than an aide mission would come for the Young, but there was nothing. So, what was there to hope for now?

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Silas watched as they dropped out of hyperspace, feeling nervous. He'd passed his verd'goten and sworn the Resol'nare six months ago but this was the first big mission since then. He'd never been into an actual war before and it didn't help that they had no idea what they would be walking into. Why had Tim been called to this world? A solid hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up at Myles who nodded at him.

"Melida/Daan," Jango read out the name of the planet except that one sounded very strange. And then he cursed. "Well, here's the war you mentioned vod'ika."

"Jango?" Tim asked warily.

"A centuries long civil war between the Melida and the Daan…records of the jetii managing to negotiate short cease fires but no lasting peace. So why are we here?"

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Tim frowned, staring at the planet before them. Why had the Ka'ra called him to such a world? Were they meant to stop the war? Surely even an entire traat'aliit wouldn't be enough to… "Oh," his eyes widened in shock.

"Tim?" Jango called in alarm.

"I…I think there's someone down there…someone like me."

"From Earth?" Silas asked, and Tim shook his head,

"No, the Ka'ra." Was that why he'd been called, to save someone?

"I want full scans before we even consider landing. Watch out for anti-ship weapons too," Jango ordered.

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Cerasi ducked into the alcove, feeling bad for doing it, but Obi-Wan was their best bet for knowing who was landing and why they might have come. He stirred as she approached, pale and thin, covered in dirt just like all of them. When he'd arrived, he looked so different, healthy and clean, more than she'd ever seen in another child. Food was scarce planet wide as more and more farms had been abandoned or destroyed. She didn't think anyone had been truly well fed in at least a generation or two.

"What is it?" he asked, blinking blearily up at her, pushing himself upright tiredly.

"A ship."

He jolted up, eyes wide. "Has anyone seen it clearly?"

"It's not like the one that brought you, it's a lot bigger."

She could see his hope fade a little, she knew part of him still held onto the belief that his Master would come back for them.

"Where are they landing?"

"Outside of the city and not near the Melida or Daan bases." Which might be good, maybe it was just a ship that had been forced to land for repairs or fuel and wasn't there to fight.

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Obi-Wan knew better than to hope and surely, he would sense if the Jedi came. He was exhausted, had barely slept, but he still grabbed his rifle and slipped away with the others to see who the ship belonged to and why they had come.

His blood ran cold as he got a look at the armoured figures milling about the ship. No. if either side had hired them… he felt a jolt of terror and then his eyes widened as one of the figures spun to face where he was hidden.

"Pull back," he hissed into his radio.

"Obi?"

"Mandalorians, nothing we have will get through their armour. Go!"

"It's okay!" the figure who had turned towards him called; voice distorted by their helmet. "We're not here to hurt you." They reached up, removing their helmet to reveal someone who looked around his own age, human or near-human. Not an Elder.

"Vod," another figure snapped.

"It's okay Jango," he answered. He held his hands up and moved a closer. "I can feel you; you don't have to be scared. The Ka'ra…the Force, it called me here."

Obi-Wan stared at the Mandalorian in shock. The Force? But when he hesitantly reached out, he realised he could feel the other, warm and welcoming. He shuddered at feeling another Force sensitive for the first time in a year. Before he realised it, he'd moved out of cover, freezing as he did realise what he'd done. But no one shot at him or even reached for weapons, despite his rifle.

"My name is Tim Drake," he smiled at Obi-Wan.

He looked between the warriors warily but the other who had spoken removed their helmet, revealing another teen. Was it a ship of Young Mandalorians? A few of the taller ones removed some of their most obvious weapons, setting them aside.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he finally answered, tensing as several of the warriors reacted. He shifted back and Tim stepped closer.

"It's okay," he promised before glancing back, saying something in Mandalorian, another answering. "Oh…" he looked back at Obi-Wan. "Ah, do you know what your name means?"

He grimaced but nodded, he'd found out when he was seven and researching in the Archives. He knew what his name meant, had read up on Stewjon's attitude towards Force sensitivity. No-one, child of nothing really did describe his life.

"The Force called you here?" he asked, reaching to feel for the truth.

"Yes," Tim answered, and the Force rang with agreement.

Why would the Force bring Mandalorians to Melida/Daan?

TBC…

Ad'Alor – alexjanna91 used it for the closest they get to prince in Mando, child leader, child of the leader

verd'goten - Mandalorian ritual to become an adult, taken around the age of 13 (lit. birth of the warrior)

Resol'nare - Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life

beskar'gam - armour

Cin vhetin - fresh start, clean slate (lit. white field, virgin snow) - term indicating the erasing of a person's past when they become Mandalorian, and that they will only be judged by what they do from that point onwards

Verd'e – soldiers

eta'tuurar – seventh month

tad'tuurar – second month

ori'vod – older sibling

ka'rta beskar – iron heart. It was a hexagonal shape integrated in the clothing, design, and architecture. It was notably featured on the chestplate of the Mandalorian armour.

buy'ce – helmet

Vor entye – thank you

mirshmure'cya - Keldabe kiss - slang for headbutt (lit. brain-kiss)

Ret'urcye mhi. - Goodbye (lit. Maybe we'll meet again)

kom'rk – gauntlet.

Aruetii - foreigner, outsider, traitor

bes'mabur – shoulder armour

traat'aliit – squad, team

Armour paint colours I found - Grey: Mourning a lost love

Red: Honouring a parent

Black: Justice

Gold: Vengeance

Green: Duty

Blue: Reliability

Orange: A lust for life

White – fresh start, clean slate