For what felt like forever Din, Omera, and Mayfeld stood paralyzed in a triangle of stunned misery, the two men watching each other, watching Omera weeping as she gripped Din's hands in hers.
Grogu was perfectly still on Din's back.
Karga now also came into the garden and looked from Din to Mayfeld in bemusement.
Then Omera released Din's hands and rushed to Mayfeld.
"You're here," she said. She threw her arms around his shoulders. "I knew he'd bring you back. I knew it."
Mayfeld's face was frozen for a second, but then crumpled. His eyes shut and he wrapped his arms around Omera's waist, gripping her as if she were a life buoy. "I'm here, baby," he muttered. He whispered other soothing nonsense into her ear as the pair stood oblivious to everything around them.
Din turned away.
It turned out he had still been carrying some tiny sliver of hope this whole time, even when he had learned Omera had married Mayfeld.
And now he knew in his heart that she really was lost to him forever.
But he also knew that he would bring Winta back to her mother if he had to kill every Imp in the galaxy.
###
Huddled in the safety of her farmhouse, they all listened as Omera told the whole story. Several of the grim-faced villagers had joined them as well, filling in the details as best they could. Some of the bereft parents couldn't stop their tears. One young father seemed almost catatonic with terror and grief. This terror was why Varro had taken the children, after all.
Yet Omera had regained her composure admirably. Din had some inkling of what she must be suffering and it was a feeling he would not wish on anyone. A stew bubbled on the cooktop, but no one seemed very hungry. Even Grogu only ate two bowls.
"So Varro escaped Riello and met up with an Imperial light cruiser on…Hoth?" asked Karga.
"That's what we heard from a New Republic officer," said Omera. She took Grogu's clay bowl. "Some ice planet. It was supposed to be a Rebel fortress back in the war. The New Republic thought they had Varro cornered but then they were taken by surprise and outgunned when the cruiser arrived. Then they came here to…to reclaim their property."
Din nodded. The New Republic was stretched thin and Sorgan was the last place they thought Varro might go to. Where was that cruiser now? They needed more help, fast. But the Imps were jamming communications from the station in orbit. They had to take that station not only to rescue the children but to call for more help.
Mayfeld was restless, unable to eat or sit. While they talked he had gone to the kitchen and begun to clean frantically. Obviously he was intimately familiar with this home and where everything belonged. Pots shone, bowls were dried and put away in cupboards, and the prep surface was immaculate. Now he was obsessively sharpening a knife.
But Din's own fury was buried beneath his sense of cold purpose, much like he had felt when Moff Gideon had taken Grogu. Numbly wandering the wreckage of the Razor Crest, he had despaired, but then Boba Fett had offered help, he channeled his rage into a plan. That was what they had to do now.
Din tried not to think of Winta and the other children huddled in cells, frightened and hungry. And what if that maniac had tried to install the electrified floor?
"How many stormtroopers did you see?" Din asked.
Omera and Lavik, one of the younger men, looked at each other. "I would say forty, which doesn't seem like much, but there's still about a hundred Merrix employees helping them. Guards but also logistics people."
"And there's still prisoners up there?" asked Din.
Lavik shrugged. "I think so. When I was in the settlement some of the Merrix people said there weren't any transports left so some prisoners were still held there. The New Republic took over the station and were trying to figure out what to do with the prisoners and with all of the Merrix employees." He shook his head in wonderment. "Merrix. That whole company was an Imperial front all along, just under our noses."
"But how many prisoners, and what kind?" asked Karga. "I mean, are we talking about tax evaders, or axe murderers?"
"Does it matter?" asked Mayfeld. "They'll side with us if we just give them a chance. Hell, we saw it on Riello. We need to just go, and go now!" He looked like he was going to burst out of his own skin with impatience. Grogu looked ready to join him. The boy had been wriggling with suppressed energy. Now he bounded to the door, and looked back, waiting for everyone to follow.
"We have to make a plan," Din reminded them. "Or we can't save the kids."
Grogu's ears drooped, but he nodded. "Fine," said Mayfeld. "We do the old 'put on a helmet trick.' How many times you think that'll work, Mando? No, fuck it. We shoot our way in."
"We need to give this woman what she wants," said Karga slowly. All heads turned to him.
"Which is?" asked Mayfeld.
Karga gestured at Grogu, Din, and Mayfeld. "Why, the three of you. Especially Mando and the boy."
"Seems to me we've tried this little playbook before too," said Mayfeld, and Din was inclined to agree. "The old 'let's pretend to be prisoners' trick. What makes you think this will work again?"
"You have me with you now," Karga said. "I'll say my group captured you. We want a reward and, more importantly, protection." He smiled without humor or happiness. "I've done this kind of thing before. We're up against a lot of Imps and Merrix guards. I have twelve people with me now, plus you three. And maybe the prisoners…if we can get them loose, and if any of them can be trusted. But we have to be realistic. We can't just shoot our way in. We have to play subtle."
"We can pull it off," said Mayfeld stubbornly. "We did it on Riello."
"There weren't dozens of children in that prison," said Din as gently as he could. They all sat for a moment with that, contemplating the potential horror of the situation.
Mayfeld exhaled loudly. "Oh hell," he said. "Fine. Fine! But you better sell this."
"Oh, I'll sell it, all right. I'll offer you three as a bargaining chip to get on board that station," said Karga. "Then from there we'll locate the kids."
"Hold on," said Omera. She looked with dismay at Grogu. "Don't tell me you're taking this little boy. I can't have another child in danger."
"I couldn't make him stay away," said Din. "Even if I tied him up." Not that anyone could tie him up. Now that Grogu had more command of his powers, good luck to any unlucky Imp trying to put him in manacles again.
"Hon, trust me, I've said the same thing to this bucket-head lunatic about a dozen times," said Mayfeld. "But the kid can help. Seriously."
"All right. I'm going with you," Omera said.
"Oh, no. No no no."
Din wanted to say the same thing. Yet he knew that anything he might say here would be unwelcome in the extreme.
"I'm not just sitting here waiting while Winta's in that place," she said. "I can handle myself." She looked appealingly at Din. "You know I'm a good shot."
After a pause, Din said, "You should stay here and keep this village safe, in case the Imps come back." The look on Omera's face told him that using the words "you should" might have been a mistake.
"Well, then Mica should stay. You're the sheriff now?"
"Marshal," said Mayfeld. "And no!"
"Look," said Omera. "I'm coming. That's all there is to it. I won't be in the front line or anything, but when you find the kids, they'll need to see a familiar face to calm them down."
"They know Grogu," said Din.
"Yes, they do. And they've known me all their lives as one of the village parents." She knelt down to give Grogu a serious look. "Between the two of us, we can protect the children and lead them to safety. Does that sound like a plan?" Grogu gave a one big, serious blink in return. Well, that was settled.
"All right," said Din with a small sigh. Karga just shook his head.
"Guess we know who's really in charge around here," muttered Mayfeld.
###
Shortly they were in Karga's yacht, about to leave Sorgan's atmosphere. After a lot of debate, two of Karga's people were left behind to guard the village if the Empire decided to come back and wreak havoc. This new crew seemed like a more trustworthy bunch than Din remembered. Bounty hunters were a mixed bag at best.
"Not long now," said Karga with a sigh, leaning back in the command seat of the little ship.
Din looked around—Grogu was staring out the window, and the pilot was focused on her job. Mayfeld and Omera were in the main sitting area, near the galley. "Are you going to be…all right?" Din asked Karga quietly. In return he got a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, come on. I'm feeling fine now. I wouldn't put those kids at risk if I thought I wasn't up for it." When Din responded with silence, Karga added, "And don't think I have some kind of death wish or anything. I'm not aiming to go out in a blaze of glory. Not dead yet, Mando. Life left in this old man yet." He raised his eyebrows. "My question, are you going to be all right? We have to sell this. Seems like a might big step."
"I'll be fine." He knew what part of the plan Karga was talking about, and he hated it, dreaded it…but they had no choice.
"All right. Get ready for the performance of your lifetime. Go get Mayfeld." He looked at Grogu. "Little man, you ready too?"
In answer, Grogu pulled away from the window. He put his hands on his chest, rolled his eyes, and collapsed into a pathetic heap. He twitched a little for extra realism.
"He's ready," said Din.
"Missed his calling as an actor," said Karga.
Din made his way to the main room. He exchanged nods with the assembled mercenaries and bounty hunters as they sat cleaning their weapons or speaking quietly with each other. They all seemed stoic, but the tension in the air was thick. They were about to go up against the Empire, after all. Mayfeld and Omera were tucked out of the way, at a small table tucked into a kind of booth. Din came close, but paused out of sight when he heard them talking in soft voices.
"Babe, I guess…I guess I gotta come clean. I was a sharpshooter with the Empire, years ago."
Reluctant to interrupt, reluctant to eavesdrop, Din found himself unable to move.
"I knew that, or guessed at it," Omera said. "You're not the only one. There are millions and millions of former soldiers out there."
"Yeah, I guess it was sort of obvious in hindsight. And then afterwards I did some things I'm…I'm not proud off. I got sent to the chop fields—"
"Stop. I know all this, Mica."
"That's not my real name. I mean, that was my nickname when I was kid, but really—"
"I know all this," she said. "I'm not dumb."
"Well, I never thought you were, but is it that obvious?"
"I told you before. Most of the settlements on Sorgan were founded by people escaping war. By people who had a history and needed to lie low. My grandfather was an escaped convict. My first husband was an Imperial deserter."
"Really?"
"Really."
"We never talked about him."
"We never talked because I don't care about your past either. No one on Sorgan does. I knew who you were the first time we met because you're not the first. You're good for Winta. You're good for me. We're good for each other and you're part of our community. That's all I care about—our life now, our family now. Our future."
"We'll get her back," said Mayfeld. Din could not see him but his voice was rough. "We will. And I won't fuck up again. And when things calm down and you wanna try for a baby I'm good with it. And—"
"Shhh."
Din sighed to himself and after a few moments he gently rapped on the wall near the table. Then he came into view. Omera and Mayfeld drew back from each other's embrace. Omera wiped her eyes, and Mayfeld's face was pink. His pale eyes seemed to glow from unshed tears.
"It's almost time," Din said.
"We're ready," Omera answered. Mayfeld said nothing, but kissed Omera's cheek.
Back in the cockpit, Karga put manacles on Mayfeld and Din after shooing out all but his trusted pilot. Grogu settled in Karga's arms and closed his eyes. And just in time. A tie fighter sent from the station sent a warning shot across the hull.
"Are we, uh, sure about this?" asked Talliss, the Togruta pilot.
'Stick with the plan," said Karga.
"Incoming comms."
"Put it on."
"Unidentified vessel, you are in violation of Imperial space. This planet has been claimed by the Empire. You have ten second to identify yourself and your purpose before we open fire."
"This is Magistrate Greef Karga, High Magistrate of Nevarro and late of the Galactic Bounty Hunters' Guild," he answered proudly. "I'm come with a peace offering for Melia Varro."
"You have nothing she wants."
"What I have wears beskar and has a small, green child. I could even wrap up my gift with a bow, if you'd like. Or I could find another interested party. Would you like to tell her that you let her gift go to someone else?"
Silence.
"Allow me to speak with her. Immediately. Face to face. Old-fashioned viewscreen channel so she can see for herself."
More silence.
"Magistrate," said the pilot. "Incoming comms, video."
The screen lit up and Varro herself appeared. No more fashionable hairstyles or flowing robes. She wore the dark uniform of an Imperial commander, the cap above a severe bun. "Magistrate Karga," she said. "What trick do you think you're trying to pull?"
"No trick. Just a truce." He gestured at Din and Mayfeld in restraints, glowering. He held up the unconscious child as another exhibit. "As you can see."
"Indeed. And here I thought you were all such close comrades. I heard about your capacity for treachery, Magistrate, but they said you'd reformed."
"I'm only doing this because I'm trying to guarantee my safety, and the safety of my world and my crew here," Karga growled. "I take no pleasure in this but I have to do what I have to do. I'll only deliver them to you but only if you can provide protection to Nevarro."
"I thought you looked to your precious New Republic and Mandalorians."
"The New Republic let us down. I don't trust their long-term commitment or their competence. And the Mandalorians have their own planet to worry about now."
"Why shouldn't I blast your absurd little ship to atoms?"
"Because I know you have plans for these three. Especially the boy."
"I know what that little creature is capable of. I find it hard to believe you were able to best him and the Mandalorian."
Karga's face twisted with shame. "They trusted me. I used that against them. Gave the boy here some drugged candy. Once I had him, the others had no choice but to play along." He stood up, holding Grogu at arm's length. Then abruptly, brutally, he dropped him onto the deck. The metallic thump was wince-inducing. "Would he let me do that, if that weren't the case?"
Out of the visual range of the viewscreen, Grogu had stopped his fall several centimeters above the flooring. The thump was him slamming a stray boot onto the floor, out of sight.
Varro raised an eyebrow at the show.
Karga nodded at Talliss. Ungently she seized the limp child, his eyes still shut, and held a blaster to his little head.
"And would I be able to do this?" Karga asked. He went to stand behind Din and placed his fingers near the catches of his helmet.
And Din trembled, his gut churning. Because the other times he had removed his helmet before others it had been different.
Once, IG had saved his life, and although he had a soul, he was no living thing.
Twice—on Morak and Riello—he had taken on the disguise of an enemy in the service of a greater mission.
And, of course, for his son. Now many times.
But this…this was the ultimate shame and degradation of a Mandalorian, to have another remove the helmet from his head. In the service of a mission, but still shameful. Deception or not, it the shame was still there. Even the Mandalorians who followed Bo-Katan's path would consider this a black mark, a stain on soul and honor.
This time, no matter what anyone said, there would be no turning back.
But it was worth it, for Omera's child.
He held his breath.
"Stop," said Varro. "I want to do that myself."
Everyone in the cockpit sighed.
"I will remove every piece of beskar myself, one by one. Then I'll remove each part of his body, one by one. Perhaps I'll flay him alive."
Everyone in the cockpit froze.
"Or maybe I'll throw him to the guards and the criminals in the lower levels to have some entertainment first. And that little monster will be made to watch every glorious minute." Her eyes gleamed. "I imagine it will be quite an education."
"That's enough," barked Karga. "I don't want—"
"Don't want to hear the gory details? Can't face what you've done? If you're having second thoughts, I'll blast into pieces right now." Silence. "Very well. Bring him here and we will discuss your terms."
The screen went dark. Talliss exhaled loudly and dropped her blaster to the deck with a clatter.
"Well, that was terrible," she muttered. Grogu opened an eye at her. "Sorry, kid. Karga, don't you ever ask me to do anything like again. What's next? Kicking a loth-cat?"
Din and Mayfeld both stared at Karga.
It was a good performance, all right.
Maybe too good?
Karga glared back at them. "You can't be serious." He went over and unfastened the manacles.
"Hey, Mando said you had a silver tongue," said Mayfeld. "Just didn't know how silver."
"You can't possibly believe I would do anything to hurt that child," Karga said in an injured tone. "Or his father. I'm wounded to the core." Grogu reacted by leaping into Karga's arms and nestling comfortably against his chest. "See? Grogu understands. My fellow performer." He put his head down to whisper in Grogu's ear. "They don't understand us actors, do they, little man?" Grogu preened, smoothing back his fuzzy ears.
"Don't encourage him," said Din.
"All right. Guess that part of the plan went okay," said Mayfeld, rubbing his wrists. "Boy, she's got it in for you, Mando. Now all we have to do take this station and fight off stormtroopers while rescuing a dozen or so kids. Easy."
"We'll do it," said Din. "We have no choice."
"Yeah, I know." Mayfeld looked at the station, growing closer every second. "Another fucking prison. Again."