Grogu wriggled in Din's arm. Oh good, the kid was waking up just as Din was nodding off. They were back again at the Panopticon in the New Republic's temporary headquarters. Leia herself had been whisked back to the flagship by anxious medical personnel. After getting more bacta patches for his knee (was there a way to invest in that stuff?) he had gone to a quieter corner behind broken engine parts with his sleeping child and made a temporary bed of packing materials.
"You need more sleep," Din told Grogu. The boy shook his head, looking at Din with big, somber eyes, and Din sighed. Well, no use scolding. It never worked. Din through about the disastrous experience in the ice cave with their amphibious passenger. Din had been sharp with the boy and immediately regretted it. The kid had been a handful, sure, but what did Din expect? Looking back, Din now knew that he had been overwhelmed with the responsibility of taking care of a child, grieving his covert, and truly unsure of himself for the first time in many years. He had also been ashamed when the passenger had delivered a stinging scolding of her own, causing Din to lash out in turn.
He did not want to be the kind of father who took out his grumpiness and frustration on his son.
"Want a story?" Grogu nodded eagerly. Din propped his head up a bit so he could lay back but still see Grogu's face. "Which one?" In answer Grogu pointed firmly at Din's helmeted face.
"Boo." The story of you.
Din had told him this story, about his parents and how he came to be a Mandalorian, before. He usually tried not to dwell too much on the frightening and sad details. He tried to talk about what he remembered of his mother and father, and his early days as a Foundling.
But now, it was different.
The memory came to him as always—the explosions, the fear, the panic. His mother weeping. His father's desperate eyes. The closing doors. The thunderous blast. The battle droid. How he had squeezed his eyes tightly shut, hoping that it all might go away. The armored hand pulling him to safety.
And now Grogu could see this memory as well. Instead of telling the story, Din was sharing it in his thoughts. A wave of love and sympathy from Grogu for the long-gone little boy washed over Din like a wave. He swallowed hard.
"And then…then after he rescued me, I was with a group of Mandalorians in a ship orbiting Aq Vetina," Din said. "I never dreamed anyone could be so strong. So brave. They didn't speak much, but they were kind. They were patient with me. I never wanted to talk. Big surprise, huh? They did look for my parents—for anyone—but there were no survivors. The entire continent was a ruin. They offered take me to a camp of survivors on the other side of the planet. But I wanted to stay with the Mandalorians. And so I did. All I wanted was to be just like them. I didn't want to be afraid and helpless ever again." And I didn't want to love anyone ever again. Look at me now.
Grogu's thoughts touched his. Did you get a buir like I did?
"It's…complicated. The Mandalorian who rescued me was my guardian, for a short time, and I was part of his clan. But he was killed by the Empire, along with most of his clan. So another clan took me in, but soon I took the Creed because I wanted to be an apprentice just like you." Grogu held up his chin. "My teacher took me on his jobs, just like I take you."
Was that your buir?
"No, he didn't adopt me. Not like I did with you. But he was important to me." He too was gone, killed when Din was still quite a young man…
I have made you sad. Grogu's ears drooped.
"No, buddy! It's all right. It happened a long time ago. Usually I don't like to talk about any of it, but I like to talk with you. Even about sad things."
Grogu frowned. Then an image came to Din: light sabers, and blaster fire, and…and children.
Children fighting and dying to save Grogu.
Din felt the little boy's confusion, terror, and grief as if it was his own. Trying so hard to remain calm, like his masters had taught him, but where were they now? Why were their friends attacking them? In the hazy memory, a lithe figure, a grown human man, leapt to take the place of the fallen children. In skill and speed, he was similar to Ahsoka. He cut through the troopers, and then…
Then darkness fell, like a curtain.
It is very hard to remember after that. The little boy was weary and sad, as if he had grown suddenly ancient. Heartbroken, Din held him close.
"It's all right. I didn't want you to think of sad things if you weren't ready."
Grogu yawned. It is like you said. Sometimes there are sad things, Buir. But I like to talk with you. Even about sad things.
I will sleep now.
###
He awoke to laughter, a pleasant sound after the sorrow from before.
Grogu was sitting across from Isidore. They were playing a little game, rolling the old gear-shift lever ball back and forth, trying to roll it past each other. Isidore laughed again. He had the face of a teenager but the expression of a much younger child. And Grogu definitely seemed like the eldest here.
Din had to fight down instinctive revulsion at seeing a face so like the man who had destroyed Mandalore and hurt his son. But this poor creature clearly was not Moff Isidore Gideon. What were they going to do about him? Nothing had been resolved in the chaos caused by Leia's ship crashing and the subsequent rescue. But an atmosphere of uncertainty hung over everything and everyone here, especially this clone…this child. The New Republic wanted to take him, Axe Woves wanted to destroy him, and the clone prisoners wanted to protect him.
Not to mention Grogu. It was not a good idea to get on his bad side.
Isidore looked over shyly at Din as he rose to his feet. He was clearly intimidated by the helmet, but Grogu gave the other boy a reassuring pat on the knee, a gesture that said, it's okay, he's with me. Sixty came around the corner to join them. He was cleaned up and better fed, but he and all of the other clones had that same wary, hunted look on their Boba Fett-like faces.
"Playing a nice game with your friend, Izzy?" Sixty crouched down next to Isidore and also gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The young man smiled back. "Well, that little fellow's crafty! Don't let him get past you." He stood up and went to stand beside Din, and the two of them watched the boys play in silence for a minute.
"Mandalorian, my brothers and I will die if need be to protect this child."
Din gave Sixty a sharp look. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"We were designed to protect each other, especially the most vulnerable. This one reminds us so much of the little brothers we have lost along the way. I know that the Mandalorian people too are bound to protect children. I hope we can rely on your people to do the right thing."
"Oh, these Mandalorians are super noble. Don't worry about that." Sixty and Din turned to see Mayfeld leaning against a metal container.
Din sighed. Still sulking about being tied up. "If you're waiting for me to apologize for trying to save your life, you're going to wait a long time."
"Oh, goodness, I wouldn't dream of it," answered Mayfeld. He looked at the pile of packing material and lay down with a sigh. "Comfy enough. Doesn't look like I'm going anywhere soon anyway."
Teva chose that time to approach. Sixty looked at him suspiciously but Teva raised his hands.
"The Councilor has called for a meeting about our mutual friend," said Teva, glancing at Isidore.
"Knowing the New Republic there will be a great deal of noble talk and nothing decided," sneered Sixty.
"Sounds accurate," said Mayfeld.
Teva shook his head. "A VIP is on the way. I think you'll want to be there. Bring the kids," he added.
Mayfeld leaned back, shutting his eyes. "Fine. Wake me when the meeting of the minds is over."
"No, you're coming too."
Mayfeld opened one eye. "Little old me too?"
"Everyone's coming," said Teva.
Grogu tapped on Din's shin. Din could read the meaning behind the big, dark eyes as if the child had shared his thoughts. That boy is like us. We must help him
Din sighed. He trusted Grogu's judgment absolutely. He had opened his heart before…maybe he could open it again. He picked up his son. "I'll do my best," he said quietly.
Teva ushered them through the chaos to a large, windowed conference room offering a spectacular view of the steep canyon. Merrix and Gallo had spared no expense here—nothing but the finest for the Empire's lackeys. Leia sat at one end of a long table. She looked like a new woman—clean, rested, and dressed in a soft, high-necked blue-gray gown instead of fatigues. Her braids were piled into a bun at the crown of her head.
This elegant diplomat certainly didn't look like someone who had rescued herself from a crashed ship, stunned an Ubese prisoner, and stolen his armor, clothing, and weapons, much less infiltrated a Hutt's crew.
Cara stood nearby, hovering over the Councilor protectively. She looked a little scraped up and bruised after their expedition into the Arena, but otherwise in fine form. Grogu hopped over the table to Leia and Cara.
"Grogu, not on the table," said Din.
"This kid," said Cara fondly.
"It's all right," Leia said with a smile as she rose from her chair. "You seem back to normal, friend." Grogu leapt to her. In a natural movement she shifted the child to have him rest on her hip, as if he were her human child. It was an arresting sight. Images tumbled through his mind: Had his own mother carried him like this? Did Omera carry baby Winta like this, once? "Mr. Mayfeld. It's good to see you again. I owe you my thanks."
"Ma'am," said Mayfeld, turning pink.
"I've called a meeting of all stakeholders here to help determine next steps."
"For what?"
"The fate of this planet and the people on it," said Leia simply.
"Oh, is that all," muttered Mayfeld. Leia turned next to Sixty and Izzy.
"I'm told your name is Sixty. I'm grateful to you and your comrades for the role you played here." Sixty nodded, face expressionless and immune to the charm offensive. "And you must be Isidore. I've heard a lot about you," she said warmly. Isidore returned a bashful smile.
At that moment the door opened again and Teva led in Woves. "Djarin," he said. "Any idea what this is about?"
"Axe Woves, is it?" said Leia, the picture of graciousness. But Woves narrowed his eyes at Izzy.
"I will NOT share a space with that THING."
"Here we go again," said Mayfeld.
Teva sighed. "I'm gonna ask you to cool it. One more VIP is on the way."
"Oh good, is it the Hutt?" snapped Woves.
"Axe Woves," said a ringing voice. They all turned to see the Armorer standing at the far entrance. "Peace."
Din and Woves nodded respectfully as the Armorer walked into the room. The New Republic guards around her seemed awestruck. Leia set down Grogu and offered a courteous greeting in halting but intelligible Mando'a.
"Daughter of lost Aldaraan," said the Armorer, inclining her head gravely. "I am pleased to see that our people have helped defeat the Empire's forces. Lady Kryze sends also her greetings. She regrets that she must attend to pressing matters on Mandalore."
"I understand," replied Leia. "I have learned that your people helped mine in the search for Gallia Varro. We almost had her on Telleras, but in the heat of battle she escaped. I'm sure you share my determination to find her."
This was news. Mayfeld looked as startled as Din felt. Grogu had said he could sense Skywalker was in a battle—was this the same thing? He looked at Grogu, who did not look surprised.
"I thank you for making this great journey," Leia went on with a regal nod. "We meet now to discuss the fate of this planet, and I hope that we can discuss the relationship between the New Republic and your people."
"The nature of our relationship with the New Republic has yet to be determined. The fate of this planet does not concern Mandalore. Yet the fate of one here has caused much strife, I am led to understand." The Armorer stepped closer to Sixty and Izzy. Sixty put a protective arm around the boy's shoulders. Izzy looked down from the intense helmeted stare. "This then is the clone of Moff Gideon, who killed so many of our people?"
"Yes," said Woves.
"Yes and no," said Din.
"Explain."
"Varro was using the resources of this prison factory to revive Moff Gideon's cloning experiment," Din said. As he spoke he scooped up Grogu from the floor. "She seems to have been…attached to him." Woves's face mirrored the disgust in Din's voice. "As Grogu and I fought to defeat Varro, a Dark Trooper broke the tank containing this clone. My son used his abilities to revive him. He wasn't fully formed yet."
"He is not to blame for his genes," burst out Sixty. "He is a boy. The clone maturation process has been compromised, making him vulnerable in mind and body. My brothers and I have experience with clones who have gone through the same trauma. It happened to us. We can help him."
"The safest place for him is with the New Republic," argued Teva. "We can help him, we have the expertise and the facilities. No one's going to mistreat him. We need to make sure any other Imperial lunatics don't try to seize him for their own ends."
"I'm sorry, but what sort of life is he really going to lead, no matter where he goes?" asked Woves. "He's a danger to himself and others."
"Speak plainly, Axe," said Din softly. "What are you saying?" Grogu glared.
"You damned well know what I'm saying, Djarin."
The Armorer studied the young man intently for what seemed like a long time in silence. Then, slowly, she reached for his face. He flinched away and Sixty tensed but she put up her hand, wordlessly asking for calm, and for permission. The boy allowed the Armorer then to touch him on the chin and tip up his face to meet her gaze, with almost shocking gentleness.
"This individual carries Moff Gideon's genetic material, but is innocent of Moff Gideon's crimes," said the Armorer at last. "It is clear that he requires protection against the Enemy who might exploit him. Clan Mudhorn. You wish to claim him as a Foundling, in accordance with Mandalore's ancient rights and customs?"
"Hold on," protested Teva, but Leia put up a hand.
Din exhaled. "Yes. We do." Grogu held up his chin proudly.
"Moff Gideon tried to destroy our world by exploiting our division," said the Armorer. The full force of her regard now fell on Woves. "Yet in the end Mandalorians united to defeat him. If our people embrace this individual, a clone of our greatest Enemy, as a Foundling, there could be no greater proof of our victory."
The silence in the room was absolute.
"Then it is settled," said the Armorer. "This young person, Izzy, is under the protection of Clan Mudhorn and the Mandalorian people as a Foundling. None other may claim him. An attack on him is considered an attack on all. This is the way."
"This is the way," echoed Din.
"Dissssiss da waaahhh," said Grogu. His pronunciation was improving.
Everyone looked at Woves. There was a small struggle on his face, but then he sighed resignedly. "This is the way." He came to stand next to Din and Grogu.
Teva looked back and forth from Leia to the Mandalorians. Leia nodded. "I will not protest this claim. I respect your traditions, especially regarding children. I would ask in return that you remember this as we continue to build the relationship between the New Republic and your world."
A shrewd, canny diplomat and negotiator, Din thought. She would observe and respect the traditions of another culture—as well as the divisions inside a culture. Then she would use that understanding to make a path forward.
"Hold on," said Sixty. "Nothing's settled. What happens now to Izzy?"
"That is the decision of Clan Mudhorn."
All eyes on Din and Grogu now. "My son and I will confer," he said. He carried Grogu out of the room and around a corner, back to the relatively quiet nook where they had slept. They sat facing each other and Grogu concentrated so he could reach out with his thoughts.
Buir, it is good that we have helped my friend!
"Yes, but now we have to decide how to best care for him."
Grogu's thought was wistful. We cannot take him with us?
"Our Creed tells us to return a Foundling to his own kind, if we can, or care for him until he comes of age." He looked closely at his son. "You told me to search my feelings once. Search your feelings, ad'ika. I think you know what the answer is. I think you know where he belongs now."
Grogu's ears drooped, but he nodded. I do. And it is good. But can we visit him?
"Yes, of course. He's always going to be under the protection of our clan."
Can he have a beautiful thing like mine? Grogu parted his little robe to pat the mudhorn rondel.
"We'll see, buddy," said Din indulgently.
While they were away, more people had arrived at the conference room: Greef Karga, the Engineer, Boxer, Burg, and Fazzakkaar, along with a group of New Republic officials and scientists. There were also a small group of the former guards, including the officer who had been on the lowest level, and other prisoners who had been floor supervisors like Mayfeld and Boxer. Mayfeld quietly spoke to Din.
"Nice job. Your boy Woves did a pretty abrupt about-face. From 'kill the kid' to 'he's one of us now' in like thirty seconds."
Din shrugged. "Mandalorians like consensus."
"I was a little worried there you guys might whip out the old flamethrowers on each other."
"Mandalorians like a robust debate. But Grogu would've stopped things from getting out of hand."
"Yeah, I can believe that," said Mayfeld fervently, having experienced Grogu's power first-hand.
"Clan Mudhorn," said the Armorer. Everyone, Mandalorian and otherwise, fell silent at her ringing voice. "You have reached a decision?"
All heads turned. Din took a deep breath. Ever since Grogu came back into his life, he had been speaking in front of big groups quite a lot. If someone had told Din this five years ago, he would have never believed it.
"The Mandalorian Creed deems that Foundlings must be reunited with their own kind if possible. If Isidore wishes it, we believe that he should remain with Sixty and his brothers. They are best suited to care for him because they are clones and understand his needs better than anyone else. But our clan will always come to help him if there's any danger."
Grogu gestured to be put down. Once on the floor he approached Izzy and patted his leg, gazing up at him intently and pointing at Sixty. Izzy cocked his head as if he were listening to something none of them could hear. Then Grogu nodded and Izzy looked up at Sixty with a tentative smile.
"I think he agrees," said Din.
"We will do right by him," said Sixty. "But what will become of me and my brothers, then? And all of the prisoners? This boy can't live with us if we are going to be put back in a prison."
Din was about to reply when Leia held up her hand again. "That's what we're all here to discuss. I have a proposal. Professor Lumara?"
The Engineer looked startled. "Yes, that was my name once, wasn't it? My, it's been so long, I had practically forgotten." As she spoke, she rolled around the room. "I have been working with the New Republic geologist here to analyze the mineral makeup of this planet. The mining settlement on this planet was abandoned nearly a century ago when the mines dried up. Many valuable elements remain but are difficult to recover except by the crude method the Empire employed, setting enslaved prisoners to dig by hand. But we think there is better current technology to extract minerals in a less dangerous way, taking advantage of this planet's solar and hydro energy. And there will be enough energy left over to restart the factories and power a settlement."
The prisoners started to grumble. "You're saying you're restarting all this?" asked Boxer incredulously. "I should have known, nothing's changing."
"Pipe down!" said Cara. "Let the Councilor finish."
"No and yes," said Leia. "We will restart the factories and mines. But this world will not be a prison. It will be a colony."
No one spoke.
"The prisoners here have been grossly abused," Leia continued. She paced slowly as she spoke. "No matter what crimes they committed, nothing justifies this. They deserve compensation to build new lives but frankly we don't have the resources to give everyone what they deserve. There's a risk that many of these people will return to criminal activities because they have no other choice. We also have to acknowledge that some of the people held here are still…dangerous." She paused in front of Burg.
"Yeah," he admitted.
"And the same goes for the former guards and staff here. I'll be very honest with you all. The New Republic is under a lot of pressure to maintain law and order. We need to look tough on crime and former Imperials. We can't just offer a blanket amnesty. But at the same time we're in debt to the prisoners who helped us fight the Empire. It's complicated. What to do?" She looked out the window at the great canyon, her small form silhouetted against the hard desert sky. Then she turned back. "I'll tell you. We convert the existing infrastructure and use the natural raw materials to turn this planet into a massive asset for the New Republic."
A murmur grew.
"I'm prepared to send our best minds to this planet to make this place into a functioning, self-governing, safe, industrial colony. Former prisoners will live and work here not for free but for pay—good pay, with decent living and working conditions. They'll also manage operations. The New Republic and our allied systems will pay fair rates for the products we need for our forces: raw materials, weapons, machine parts. All workers will also be shareholders in a profit-sharing arrangement. The longer they remain here, the more they earn."
"I don't want to stay here," piped up one of the human prisoners. "I want to go home to my family."
"Then you'll be given a small, token compensation and free transport to the next New Republic-controlled system. But you won't have the job or the profit-sharing option. And…if you stay, you can invite your family to come. You can also invite friends and former associates to come participate in this legitimate, lawful enterprise."
Teva eyed the former Imps. "That goes for everyone?"
"Yes, this goes for everyone. With a few caveats."
"Here it comes," someone muttered.
"Former guards, Imperials, and prisoners with a more, ah, violent record will also be able to work and participate, but they will be required to remain here for a set amount of time to finish their sentences. They can work and earn money like everyone else. Their loved ones can even join them. When their sentence is up they can leave or stay. This is something that will be determined on a case-by-case basis. Everyone's history is different. We're not the Empire—we don't just apply the same rule unthinkingly for everyone."
"What about, uh, females?" asked Boxer delicately.
"Nonviolent prisoners of all sexes and species at the chop fields and other New Republic facilities will be given the option to settle here, along with their families. Families and children will be a stabilizing factor."
"Reasonably nonviolent," added the Engineer. "I mean, let us be realistic."
"How are you gonna keep this place safe?" asked someone else in a skeptical tone.
"Violence in this colony will not be tolerated," said Leia sternly. "Offenders will go to the chop fields. New Republic troops will help keep order, at first. Former prisoners will gradually take over that responsibility, but abuse and brutality will be unacceptable. I also propose to ask our Mandalorian allies if they can contribute a small force. They'll be well-compensated and the currency will help your people buy food and needed supplies as you rebuild Mandalore."
Woves looked at the Armorer, who nodded. "This proposal will be considered."
"Can this place really turn that big of a profit?" asked Karga.
The Engineer pressed a button to create a holo display. "I'm no economist, but I've run a mathematical model with the numbers provided by the New Republic." Years and digits rose up. "At the beginning profit margins will be very slim. Then, see what happens to the projection in the next five years." A vivid green arrow shot up…and up, and up. Someone whistled.
"The Hutts aren't gonna like this," said Burg. "They're gonna want in on it."
Wordlessly the Engineer pressed another control. A holo of Nalab the Hutt appeared. He wore enormous manacles and a sulky expression.
"Nalab," said Leia.
"Huttslayer," said Nalab. His voice was thick with hate yet also grudging respecting
"Nalab has agreed to be our interface with the Hutt cartels. He will remain here on Riello, but will negotiate with his people to make sure the Hutts don't interfere with our trade or this colony."
"Yes," said Nalab. "I have no choice but to agree. My people will be made to see there is more profit in cooperation." He shifted restlessly. "What more must I say to convince these people, Huttslayer?"
"That's enough. I just wanted everyone to hear you."
The holo switched off. Teva shook his head. "Councilor, I just don't know about dealing with Hutts."
"I don't like it any more than you do but we have to make compromises to get this to work."
"Why is he helping us?"
Leia looked surprised by the question. "Profit if he helps, death if he doesn't. It's really pretty simple with Hutts."
Fazzakkaar growled. How can we trust the New Republic? Your corrupt people gave us all to Merrix.
Leia obviously understood Shyriiwook. "Fazzakkaar, I'm glad you're here. I know you lost your brother in this fight. Please understand that this whole debacle has been a wake-up call for our government to root out the corruption and inefficiency that enabled this place. What we do here on Riello will help the galaxy understand what the New Republic really stands for." Her shoulders sagged a little and she settled into a chair, looking worn by all the talking. She patted her belly unconsciously. "Magistrate Karga, I'm hoping you and I can speak together after this." Karga raised an eyebrow and nodded. "But does anyone else have any more questions?"
The room erupted.
Din carried Grogu to a corner and watched the clamor as everyone shouted questions at once. Mayfeld came to join him, crossing his arms and shaking his head.
"Well, money's tempting, but I'm still going back to Sorgan," he said. "Mando, I don't know if this is the stupidest idea I've ever heard, or the smartest. Do you think this is really gonna work?"
Din could only shrug in amazement at Leia's bold, astonishing, idealistic, impractical, visionary, borderline insane, completely ridiculous proposal. Turning over a prison to inmates. How could this project possibly succeed?
"What do you think?" he asked Grogu. The boy gave a big, thoughtful blink. "Yeah."